"That won't do," my mother's troubled voice rang; "the whole place looks untidy, and you know that I have no maid. If you want to go out, you must at least take the two little ones with you."
"I will certainly not take them," I said, and tears filled my eyes. "They are far too small for our games."
"I am very sorry, but you will have to play something that the little ones can play also."
At first I would not consent, and decided to stay in; but as it was nearly eleven o'clock, the time when I knew that my friends left the school, I could resist no longer. I took the two little ones, not very gently I believe, and went away. My sister was about two years old and was able to walk, while my brother was still quite small and had to be carried. My sister clung to my skirt, and so we walked along slowly, much too slowly for my impatience. A few people, mostly those who were about to go to their work in the vineyards, looked at me strangely, spoke to each other, and laughed as they passed. I felt as if they were laughing at me, and I was terribly ashamed because I thought they all believed me to be the mother of the two children. It was very foolish of me to think such a thing, but at that time I did not know that a girl of my age could never be suspected of being the mother of children; all I knew was that it was considered a disgrace for an unmarried girl to have a child. My anger concentrated therefore on the two innocent little creatures, and I felt very much inclined to beat them.
We got to the school at last, and I noticed with great satisfaction that the lessons were not finished, and that I was likely to catch my friends. After a few minutes I heard the great noise that was made when the boys were getting ready to go. Then they appeared, pair after pair, and my heart beat faster. After the boys came the girls. First the very small ones, then the class I had been in. Hilda and Leopoldine appeared at the same time, and I trembled with joy and excitement when I saw them coming along in the gay, careless fashion characteristic of children. My time seemed to have arrived. I stepped out of the corner in which I had hidden myself, and called their names aloud. Both of them turned round at once, and dragging my little sister behind me, I ran towards them.
"Anna!" they called, but then they looked at each other and kept silent. I knew at once that something was the matter, and the blood mounted into my cheeks. In order not to let them see my embarrassment I controlled myself, and asked with apparent indifference:
"Where shall we go?"
"We are not allowed to speak to you," said Leopoldine at last; "your father is locked up."
"Was," corrected Hilda softly, and then they ran away before I even knew what they meant. A little boy, whom I had seen in the company of my brother many times before, came along, said something very rude as he passed and put his tongue out at me. But what did that boy matter? What did the whole world matter now? I stood as if I was dazed, and might have stood there longer if my little brother had not begun to cry. That made me conscious of a terrible shame and of a sharp pain in my arm, and I felt that the child was heavy. I noticed also that it was nearly dinnertime and knew that my mother was waiting for me. I called my little sister, who had been ceaselessly picking up stones from the ground, and, avoiding the crowded streets as much as I could, I made for home. My mother was standing in front of our gate, and looking searchingly up and down the street. Having caught sight of us she came to meet me and took the boy from my arms.
"Where have you been?" she asked; "you look hot."