“Dis place reminds me more than anything I have seen in America, of my fadder’s place in Germany. De trees, de flowers, de shrubs—dey are all de same. You know,” he added, “I live in Baltimore, dat iss true, yet, I see very little of it. My list of pupils iss as large as I could well desire, und my time iss taken up in my little studio.”
“But one should have plenty of fresh air,” said Aunt Betty, “It serves as an inspiration to all who plan to do great things.”
“Dat sentiment does you credit, madame. It iss not fresh air dat I lack, for I have a little garden in vhich I spend a great deal of time, both morning und evening—it iss de inspiration of a grand estate like dis. It makes me feel dat, after all, there iss something I have not got out of life.”
There was a suspicious moisture in the Herr’s eyes, brought there, no doubt, by recollections of his younger days in the Old Country, and Aunt Betty, noticing his emotion, hastened to say:
“Then it will give us even greater pleasure, Herr Deichenberg, to welcome you here, and we trust your visits will be neither short nor infrequent.”
“Madame, I am grateful for your kindness. No one could say more than you have, and it may be dat I vill decide to give Miss Dorothy her lessons in her own home, dat ve may both have de inspiration of de pretty trees und flowers.”
“Aside from the fact that I am anxious to see your studio,” said the girl, “that arrangement will please me greatly.”
“It vill please me to be able to show you my studio, anyvay,” said the Herr.
“How long have you been in America?” Aunt Betty wanted to know, as the Herr again turned toward her.