Days went by. The Judge had much to do. Elise occupied herself with her little girls, and the Candidate with Henrik and his own studies.
The children grew like asparagus in June, and the father rejoiced over them. "The Queen-bee will grow over all our heads," prophesied he many a time; and when he heard Eva playing "Marlbrough s'en va-t-en guerre," on the piano, his musical sense awoke, and he said, "what a deal of feeling there is already in her music!—is there not, Elise?"
The evenings, on which all the members of the family assembled, assumed constantly a livelier and more comfortable character for every one; often they played and danced with the children.
The children! What a world of pleasure and pain do they not bring with them into a house! Of a truth all is not of as rosy a hue as their cheeks. Elise discovered that in her children which was not always exactly good. "Do not to others what thou wouldst not that they should do to thee." "People should think of what they do." "Patience is a good root." "You do not see that your father and mother do so; look at me, and do as I do." These standing and going speeches, which have travelled through the world from the time when "Adam delved and Eve span," down to the present day, and which to the very end of time will be ever in use—together with assurances to the children, whenever they were punished, or when they must learn their lessons yet more—that all this was done for their benefit, and that the time would come when they would be thankful for it—which the children very seldom, if ever believed—this citizen-of-the-world, patriarchal household-fare, which was dealt out in the family of the Franks, as in every other worthy family, did not always produce its proper effect.
Perhaps Elise troubled herself too much sometimes about the perpetual recurrence of the same fault in her children—perhaps she calculated too little on the invisible but sun-like and powerful influence of paternal love on the little human-plants. True it is that she often was in great anxiety on their account, and that the development and future prospects of her daughters awoke in her soul much disquiet and trouble.
One day, when such thoughts had troubled her more than usual, she felt the necessity of a prudent, and, in this respect, experienced female friend, to whom she could open her mind.
"Ernst," said she, as her husband prepared himself to go out immediately after dinner, "I shall go below for a few minutes to Evelina, but I will be back again by the time you return."
"Don't trouble yourself about that, dear Elise," said he; "remain as long as you like; I'll fetch you. Take my arm, and let us go down together, that I may see exactly where you go, and whence I must fetch you."