“Ah, here iss de mistress of de house,” he said to Dorothy, then turned to Aunt Betty, who had extended her hand with the words:
“Welcome again to Bellvieu, Herr Deichenberg.”
“T’ank you, madame. It iss very kind of you. Really, if I sit here much longer, admiring de flowers und de trees, I shall forget dat I have come to give dis young lady a moosic lesson, und dat I shall have another pupil vaiting for me in de studio at eleven.”
“But it is well that you occasionally forget your labors, Herr.”
“Ah, yes, but—”
“I know what you are going to say—that you have your living to make.”
“Madame, you have read the sordid t’oughts of an old man who is supposed to have made a great success.”
“And I’m sure you have made a great success. As for the money, Herr, is that any reason you should ruin your health?”
“No, no, madame, but—”
“Ah, Herr,” she interrupted again, “you are becoming too thoroughly imbued with the American spirit, which thinks of nothing more than to catch the dollars as they go rolling past. Then, after they are corralled in a bank, or invested in property, you are not satisfied, but begin to covet more.”