“Not furnished, my sweetheart,” said Gertrude, “and you know Kinder you’re all running on very fast about servants—the good Frau is our housekeeper.”
“Will she have meals with us?”
“Gewiss Jimmie, meals.”
“Mon Dieu, vous êtes terribles, toutes!” came Mademoiselle’s voice. It seemed to bite into the table. “Oh, c’est grossière!” She gathered herself up and escaped into the little schoolroom.
“Armes, armes, Momzell,” wailed Ulrica gently gazing out of the window.
“Som one should go, go you, Henchen,” urged Emma.
“Don’t, for goodness’ sake, Hendy,” begged Jimmie, “not you, she’s wild about you going downstairs,” she whispered.
Miriam struggled with her gratification. “Oh go, som one; go you, Clara!”
“Better leave her alone,” ruled Gertrude.
“We miss old Minna, don’t we?” concluded Bertha.