"Aunt Seréna!"
"What is it, my boy?"
"I want to go!"
Aunt Seréna threw back her head, that she might give him a good look through her spectacles. Her face took on a very grieved expression.
At last, after a long pause, she asked, in her gentle voice, "What do you mean?"
"I want to go away. I cannot stand it. I want to be with my friend."
"Do you think he will take better care of you than I do, Johannes?"
"I do not believe that, Aunt Seréna, but he is being treated unfairly. He is in the right."
"I will not take it upon myself...." said Aunt Seréna, hesitating, "to say that he is wrong. I am not clever enough for that. I am only an old woman, and have not studied much, although I have thought and experienced a great deal. I will readily admit that perhaps I was at fault without knowing it. I did my best, to the best of my belief. But how many there are, better than I am, Johannes, who think your friend in the wrong!"
"Are they also better than he is?" asked Johannes.