"Dear mamma, I wish you would not trouble yourself about me," said Miss Helen. "I have not been spoilt in Hamburg, and the luxuries with which your kindness surrounds me here are quite new to me. I shall be able to be content with little--and then our dear papa is, God be thanked, so active and hearty again, and has so quickly recovered from his fever attack in Hamburg, that I hope we shall enjoy for a long time yet his love and his excellent management."
"God grant it," said the baroness, "but I fear we shall have to be prepared for the worst. Your father is by no means as hearty as you think. He is always suffering, although he does not let us see it. The doctor in Hamburg thought his case a very grave one. If he should be taken from us you might easily have an opportunity to prove your powers of endurance. But, dear child, you do not know what life is. It is much easier to talk of poverty than to bear it. I know it from experience; I was a poor girl when your father married me; I know what it means to have to turn a dress again and again, for want of money to buy a new one; I know what painful mortifications a poor girl of good family has to endure."
"I cannot think, dearest mamma, that things will ever be quite so bad as that. Perhaps it is because I am so young, or the fine summer-day outdoors--but I cannot see the clouds that you speak of so sadly. I shall----"
"Marry a rich and deserving man," said the baroness, with a smile which did not render her more attractive.
"But, mamma----"
"I know you meant to say something else, my child. It is a jest now, which, however, will soon change into reality, I hope. You are at an age now when a young girl may very well begin to give a place to such thoughts in her heart. Happy is she who chooses well; happier still, if she leaves the choice to her parents, who wish nothing but to see her happy, and who are aided in their efforts by the rich experience of a long life."
"But, mamma, that is a long way off yet."
"Very likely, my child; however, we cannot know what Heaven may have decreed. We have to leave these, as in fact all things in our life, to His direction.--But who in the world is that man who is standing there so immovable near that tree? I have left my glasses in my room."
"That is Mr. Stein, mamma; he has been standing there for half an hour; I believe he has grown to the place."
"A strange man, that man Stein," said the baroness. "He has something uncomfortable for me. I cannot by possibility understand him. How do you like him, dear Helen?"