To my great surprise the trunk really arrived about three weeks after. As a matter of course I was very pleased to have my things back, but to what kind circumstances I owed it I never knew. The very first thing I wanted to do now was to obtain a situation. The circumstances of my parents were no better than their letters had led me to expect. The rent especially proved to be a burning and everlasting question. But where was I to take a situation again? At Langenau?—I would not hear of it. At Krems?—that did not suit me either. I decided to write to my brother, and to ask him to find something suitable for me. The letter, however, was never answered, and things grew no better. I earned nothing, and consequently could buy nothing. A new pair of boots was once more a tempting suggestion. Not wishing to lose more time, I had decided to look out for a situation at Krems after all, when the postman called one day and delivered a letter for me. I recognized at once the Hungarian stamp, showing the sloping cross and above it the flying eagle.
But the handwriting did not seem familiar to me, and fearing that I was going to be reminded of my debt to the cook, I opened the letter with some alarm. After I had read it I did not quite know what to think of it. It was written by Mr. Sandor; mentioning nothing about my last place he told me of a situation which he had vacant, and which he thought would suit me excellently. There were only two children—a boy and a girl, aged between three and five years. The wages were the same. My parents tried hard to persuade me to accept the offer at once, but I had my own thoughts about it and could not make up my mind. Another letter, coming from the same place, was handed to me the next day. Mr. Sandor wrote that as the matter was very urgent, would I be good enough to let him know my decision by return of post.
I put all my things together now, and examined them thoroughly. If that blouse, I thought, received a new pair of sleeves it might do quite well at home; and if I sewed a new belt on that skirt, it would not look so bad. I put aside piece after piece, and decided to start with the mending at once; but before I sat down to take up the needle, I wrote to Mr. Sandor that I should certainly feel very pleased to obtain the situation in question.
On the day before my departure I could not stay indoors, but went out. It was evening, and under cover of the growing darkness I visited all the places that I knew so well and loved so dearly. I passed the house which we had inhabited after our very first removal, and looked in at the open gate. The brooklet there flowed through the yard as it had done at the time when I was a little child; but in the corner, where my flowers had closed and opened themselves so generously for me, there stood a kennel, and a large bushy dog darted at me distrustfully. Very sadly I moved on. The church square had not altered. The church stood in its centre, dark and quiet as of old, and opposite to it there loomed up the house of my former friend Leopoldine. All the windows were illuminated, and the whole building suggested comfort and ease. I walked on again down to the very end of the street, leaving behind me all the well-known cottages, together with the dyer's house, until I reached the graveyard. I used to be afraid of that place when I was a child, and always avoided it as much as I could, but to-day my heart was filled with such sadness that all other feelings were overcome by it.
Leaning myself against the low grey wall, my thoughts went on freely. What had life been to me so far? Scorned and avoided ever since I was a child, with nothing for my own but the quiet thoughts and the secret dreams. How different this might have been if "he" had come, my prince out of the fairyland! But he had failed me too.
And as I stood there staring into the darkness above and beyond the graves, I saw a vision—a circle of flames, growing into enormous size, embracing all the world except myself, leaving me outside and alone.
My parents went to see me off again the next day. On this occasion, however, I did not speak, and walked to the station almost reluctantly. When I was seated in the train I neither smiled nor cried, being utterly indifferent. I did not know that fate was ready for me.