“How old is the eldest? She ought to be old enough to understand my reasons,” remarked the gentleman.
“Nika is in her fourteenth year. Her education is, of course, still incomplete in many ways,” replied the lady. “Dino is twelve and Agnes eleven years old. The latter must first of all complete her compulsory school years.”
“Still rather young people,” said Mr. Schaller, shaking his head. “I am sure of one thing, however. The longer their education will take, the shorter should be the ways to the goal. I am more and more convinced that my advice is right. If you give your little daughters into the hands of a clever dressmaker, your moving to the city will have been of some real use.”
In his great zeal to convince his silent listener, the visitor had not noticed that a small boy had entered. This little fellow had at first hidden behind his mother, but, at a sign from her, approached the gentleman. He noticed the child only when a small fist pushed itself forcibly into his closed right hand.
“Please forgive the rather aggressive greeting of my small son,” begged the mother.
“Oh, here is another, still. I knew there was a smaller one,” exclaimed the dismayed visitor. “Well, boy, what is your name?”
“Mux,” was the reply.
The gentleman looked questioningly at the mother.
“That is the name his brother and sisters have given him and the one which seems to have remained quite permanently,” she replied. “His name is really Marcus and he is just five years old.”
“Well, well, and what do you want to be when you grow up, my young friend?” asked Mr. Schaller.
“An army general,” unhesitatingly replied the small boy. After these words the gentleman got up.
“It seems to me, my dear Mrs. Halm, that all your children have pretty high-flown ideas,” he said impressively. “I can only hope that before long they will learn that in this world it is not possible for everybody to do what he pleases.”
The mother approved this good wish, but added: “I have to tell you, though, that Mux has gotten this idea from his favorite book, where the picture of a general on horseback interests him more than anything else. This, of course, is a passing impression, like many others.”
“One can never urge proper and successful work too soon nor too often; please do not overlook that, my friend!” With these words the guardian ended the interview and, saying goodbye, carefully descended the steep staircase.
Just then a child was running up the stairs so quickly that it actually seemed as if she had no need to touch the steps at all. As the gentleman was taking up all the room, the only space left for a passage was under the arm with which he held the railing. Here the lithe creature tried to slip through.
“Stop, stop! Do you not belong to the parson’s widow, Mrs. Halm?” asked the gentleman, making a barrier with his arm.
“Yes, I belong to her,” was the quick answer. And stooping down still lower, the small person again tried to pass.
“Just hold still one moment, if you can,” the gentleman now demanded. “You probably know that I am Mr. Schaller, your guardian. I have just given your mother some advice, which was meant for your good. You do not look in the least stupid, so you can help to persuade your mother. I am sure you can understand what is good for you. Are you the elder?”
“No, the younger one,” came quickly back for answer.
“So much the better. Then the elder will be still more sensible. If you take my advice you can both contribute to the prosperity of the whole family.” With these words the gentleman gave the little girl his hand and went away.
Agnes flew up the rest of the stairs and into the narrow hall. Her brother Mux was standing expectantly in the open doorway. He did this every day at the time his brother and sisters were coming home from school. He loved the change that their coming brought after the quiet morning.
“A fat gentleman was here and mother said afterward: ‘Oh God!’ and you can’t play the piano any more,” he reported.
Agnes ran into the next room and as quickly out again. “Where is mother? Mother, mother!” she called, opening one door after another.
“Here I am, Agnes, but do not be so violent,” sounded the mother’s voice from the kitchen.
Agnes ran to her. “Mother, what is Mux saying? Is it really true? I know that Mr. Schaller has been here and that he can tell us what we have to do. What did he say? Is it really true what Mux has said? Oh, I’ll never eat again! I don’t want to sleep or do anything any more. Everything, then, is lost!”
Agnes was frightfully excited. Her cheeks were dark red and her eyes seemed to shoot forth flashes of lightning.
“But, child, you must not speak this way. Do not get so terribly excited,” the mother calmly admonished her. “There is no time now to discuss a subject which we have to talk over quietly. We shall do so tonight. You know perfectly well that I have the greatest sympathy for your wishes and ambitions, and that it means as much to me as to you. As soon as we have a quiet hour together we can talk it all over.”
These words quieted the child. She knew that her mother always shared every experience with them. In coming to town, mother and daughter had hoped to be able to carry out their most fervent wish, namely, the completion of Agnes’ musical education. Agnes
