"Oh, mother, do say you are ready," pleaded the child, who, for all his twelve years, and his finely developed body, was yet a boy, and impulsive.
"Yes, I'm all ready," she replied.
And, for the rest of the evening, silence descended upon the boy, his small brain being filled with visions of the coming pleasure.
When Herr Müller returned to his home the following evening, he found a letter, postmarked "Linz," awaiting him.
"Hello," he said, half aloud, "here's word from our friend Herr Runkel. Wonder if there's anything happened to upset our plans?"
"Oh, father, please don't say it," pleaded the boy; "I shall be so disappointed."
"Well, cheer up," replied his father, "there's better news than you thought for. We shall leave on Saturday morning as planned; but to-morrow Herr Runkel's sister from the convent will come to us. He asks us to take charge of her, as the Sisters find it very inconvenient this year to send an escort with her; and, as we are coming up in a day or two, perhaps we would not mind the extra trouble."
"Oh, father, won't it be fine! How old is she?"
"I believe about your age."
Friday morning Frau Müller and Ferdinand jumped into a fiaker and drove to the railroad station to meet Teresa Runkel. She was a fine-looking child, with round, rosy cheeks; quite tall, with the fair complexion, sunny hair, and soft, Austrian blue eyes that makes the women of that land famed for their beauty. She was overjoyed at this unexpected pleasure of spending a day or two in the city of Vienna, which she had never seen, although she had passed through several times on her way to and from the convent. She enjoyed the brisk drive to the tall apartment house in the Schwanengasse, and she fairly bubbled with chatter.