'A convenience?' suggested my cousin Lieschen, the rather pretty unmarried daughter, a girl with a neat head, an untidy body, and plump red hands.
'An ornament?' suggested my cousin Elschen, the rather pretty married daughter, another girl with a neat head, an untidy body, and plump red hands.
'A thing you go in at?' I suggested.
'No, no,' said Tante Else impatiently, determined to run down her word.
'A thing you go out at, then?' said I, proud of the resourcefulness of my intelligence.
'No, no,' said Tante Else, still more impatiently. 'Ach Gott, where do all the words get to?'
'Is it something very particular for which you are searching?' asked my step-mother, with the sympathetic interest you show in the searchings of the related rich.
'Something not worth the search, we may be sure,' remarked Onkel Heinrich.
'Ach Gott,' said Tante Else, not heeding him, 'where do they—' She clasped and unclasped her fingers; she gazed round the room and up at the ceiling. We all sat silent, feeling that here there was no help, and watched while she chased the elusive word round and round her brain. Only Onkel Heinrich continued to eat herring salad with insulting emphasis.
'I have it,' she cried at last triumphantly.