“Martha,” the Director finally interrupted her, “according to your account, it would be a great blessing for my daughter to spend even a day in such a family.”
“If you would really take her there, Director, I certainly would be happy—ah! I would not know a greater happiness.”
Martha had to wipe her eyes, she was so stirred.
“You shall know it, Martha. We’ll go tomorrow, and on the same evening you shall hear an account of all that happened.” With these words the Director seized her hand, and after shaking it heartily, departed.
“Get everything ready, Cornelli! We are going to town tomorrow,” he called to his daughter, who sat on the garden bench quietly thinking. “Esther shall call you early, at six o’clock.”
“Indeed, I shall,” came Esther’s voice through some open window. She was a good sentinel, for she always seemed to know what was going on in the house and its immediate neighborhood.
Early next morning the two shiny brown horses were trotting down the valley. They had to go for four full hours, but that seemed a pure pleasure to them; the longer they ran, the more spirit they seemed to get, and Matthew had to keep them from galloping all the time.
In her corner Cornelli meditated as to how she could tell the maid at her arrival that she wanted to visit no one but Dino, and wanted to be taken straight to his room. She planned also to forbid Dino to call his sisters and his mother, for she wanted to see him alone. She would pay Dino a long visit and then steal quietly away without being noticed. She was also reflecting about everything she wanted to tell her friend. First of all, she had to tell him that the news had at last come out regarding who had been standing on the sofa. She had told him all about this deep grief she had borne for so long.
So they came to town much sooner than Cornelli had ever thought possible. The carriage was already halting before the hotel where her father usually stopped, and Cornelli jumped down.
“Shall I come back again in four hours, Papa?” she asked. “I can find my way alone, for Dino has described it to me.”
“Stop, stop! That is not the way; I am coming, too,” the father said.
Cornelli was quite sorry not to be able to start off alone, for that had been her plan. Now everything was quite different.
As Dino had written his exact address in his letter and the Director knew his way about town very well, they passed quickly from street to street till they reached a narrow little lane. Here stood the house they had been seeking. When finally four high stairs had been climbed, the Director stood on the highest narrow step where the door took up half of the standing room.
“If the inhabitants correspond to their dwelling place, we shall probably not remain here very long,” he said, looking up doubtfully at the inconvenient entrance.
“Dino does not correspond,” said Cornelli quickly. She had not quite understood her father’s words, but felt them to be an attack on her friend.
“Climb up there, Cornelli, and pull the bell-rope!” he commanded. “When the door is open I’ll probably find room to stand there, too.”
Cornelli obeyed. A slender girl a good deal taller than Cornelli opened the door and looked with surprise at the new arrivals through a pair of dark and serious eyes. Cornelli retreated suddenly.
“Well, what I see is not very dreadful,” the Director said, stepping forward.
“How do you do, child. Is your mother at home, and can I speak to her a moment?”
The girl who had opened the door was Nika. With great politeness she led the gentleman to a room and informed him that she would go at once to fetch her mother, who was with her sick brother.
Upon her polite invitation the Director followed her, and settled down in an armchair. He looked about him with astonishment at the small but scrupulously neat room, which was decorated with several charming pictures.
When Nika neared the door, Cornelli said to her in a low voice: “I want to visit Dino.”
“Come, I’ll show you the way,” came a small voice from behind the door. It was Mux, who had quickly hidden there to peep with curious eyes at the new arrivals. He came out and seizing Cornelli’s hand, pulled her away with him. The mother had heard the stranger’s voice and at this moment entered from an adjoining chamber.
“She does not correspond, either, as Cornelli puts it,” the Director said to himself with a smile. He rose and introduced himself. “Following your son’s summons, Mrs. Halm, I have brought you my daughter,” he said. “She can stay a few hours with her sick friend, if that suits you, and then she can join me again at my hotel.”
“I am so much obliged to you for the great favor of bringing her. My son has looked forward so much to this visit. We all know and love Cornelli already from what he has told us about her. She has been so kind to him and has entertained him so well when he was alone in Iller-Stream that she has earned his and my sincere thanks. Could I not beg of you to leave Cornelli here for a few days, or at least for all of today?”
“You are very kind, Mrs. Halm,” he replied, quite astonished to hear that his shy, unfriendly child should have furnished the boy any entertainment. “Those are just polite words,” he said to himself, but aloud he added: “I am afraid that it won’t be possible, for my child would not stay. She is very shy and has all kinds of peculiar habits, as you probably have noticed from her looks. Your daughter certainly looks different.”
“I shall not keep Cornelli here against her will, of course, but may
