Trina burst in upon her mother while the latter was setting a mousetrap in the kitchen.
“Oh, mamma!”
“Eh? Trina? Ach, what has happun?”
Trina told her in a breath.
“Soh soon?” was Mrs. Sieppe's first comment. “Eh, well, what you cry for, then?”
“I don't know,” wailed Trina, plucking at the end of her handkerchief.
“You loaf der younge doktor?”
“I don't know.”
“Well, what for you kiss him?”
“I don't know.”