“Oh, I am so glad that you have settled it all between you! I am so pleased that you are going to stay, Cornelli,” she said, full of joy. “I was just going to propose it to you, and I am so glad that Dino has persuaded you. Your father has already given me his permission and all I have to do is to let him know right away. Now you can stay quietly together, for there is no hurry about supper.”
The mother immediately wrote to Mr. Hellmut, and soon after that, fat little Trina was running over to the hotel.
Cornelli had again settled down beside Dino with a mixed feeling of wonderful delight and fear. He noticed her timidity.
“Oh, yes, Dino, I love to stay with you and Mux,” she assured him. “Your mother is so good to me, too, but I am afraid of your two sisters. I have to think of poor little block-headed Trina all the time, when she does everything wrong and does not know how to do otherwise; you all despise her for it and she can’t help it. I know what it is like to be so block-headed.”
Dino had to laugh a little.
“Why do you suddenly think of our Trina?” he asked. “Do not worry about her, for mother is very good to her. Just be happy, Cornelli, and do not imagine all kinds of things about block-headed Trina.”
Cornelli did not say another word, but Dino noticed that she kept on thinking just the same. After a while the mother came to announce that it was time for Dino’s rest. The prospect of seeing each other again on the following day was a great consolation to them both.
Then Cornelli and the mother went back to the room where the sisters were sitting at their school work. Mux was bending over his picture book, hatching out new ideas, no doubt. Just then the half grown Trina entered with a basket on her arm. While she was passing Nika’s chair, her basket got caught on it. Pulling violently to free it, she turned the chair around quite suddenly.
“You are getting more awkward every day, Trina,” Nika said crossly.
Cornelli blushed. She felt as if these words were meant for her as well. She must be just as awkward in Nika’s eyes as Trina was. The latter failed to excuse herself and from embarrassment became more clumsy in her movements. Cornelli understood this perfectly; that was what she always did, she knew it quite well.
“Now we shall have supper,” said the mother, “and when the children’s work is done we shall all sing together. Don’t you sing, too, Cornelli?”
“I probably do not know the songs, and so I can’t sing,” she replied shyly.
After supper Mux fled back to Cornelli with his book. He wanted to renew his conversation with her, but his mother had a different plan.
“Give your book to Cornelli, for it is time for you to retire,” she said. “You can join us again tomorrow.”
Mux departed reluctantly.
When his mother was firmly leading him away, he was still able to call to Cornelli: “Be sure not to go till I come back!”
Cornelli felt quite frightened when her confiding little friend had gone. Now for the first time she was left alone with the two sisters. She wondered what would happen. But nothing happened. They were both so deeply occupied with their work that they did not even raise their heads. Cornelli now remembered the lovely story book. She had already begun a story and she simply had to know how it would end. So she began to read. As soon as she finished one story, a new wonderful picture would lead her to another story.
Suddenly some splendid music sounded close beside her, and Cornelli started. Agnes was sitting at the piano close to her side and playing. Cornelli could not read any more, for Agnes played one lovely tune after another as quickly and easily as if it did not cause her any trouble. She knew from Dino that Agnes was not much more than a year older than she was. She listened with admiration to the beautiful melodies that were pouring forth from the instrument. Finally the mother returned. She had made her nightly visit to Dino and had had several things to say to him.
“Mama,” Agnes called to her eagerly, “I am playing all the merry pieces I know tonight, for I have just finished my long composition.”
“You are right, Agnes. And how are you getting along with your painting, Nika?” asked the mother.
Nika replied quite sadly that she had hoped to finish it that day, but the days were very short now and she could not paint by lamp light. Her mother should see how little her work still lacked.
“If I had one hour more of daylight, I could finish it,” she sighed.
Nika placed a large painting under the bright lamp. It somewhat resembled the beautiful pictures which decorated the walls of the room. The colors in it were perfectly wonderful, and Cornelli had never before seen such a lovely picture. Sparkling crimson roses were hanging down an old wall and dense ivy was creeping up between them with shiny green leaves. An old oak tree was stretching large gnarled branches over the decayed wall, and below, a clear stream was peacefully flowing out to a meadow, where glowing red and blue flowers seemed to greet it joyfully.
Cornelli stared at the lovely picture; she had never seen anything like this glittering stream, the painted trees and flowers; one seemed to hear the murmuring of the brook, far, far away through the meadow. It was all so full of life! And to think that Nika had painted it! Cornelli felt as if a deep, deep gulf lay between her and the two sisters, a chasm
