Christmas Eve was drawing very near, but Hertha Prachwitz was still not quite ready with her presents. For her stepmother she had painted a hymnbook cover of punched leather, with mottoes and emblems; she had embroidered a table-centre for grandmamma, and crocheted an Irish lace collar for Elly. Now she was at work till late at night on a pocket-book, which was to be sent anonymously to Leo, and which, besides places for letters, contained a memorandum table and a frame for photographs.
This frame was designed specially to hold a picture of Felicitas von Kletzingk.
Hertha had not come any nearer solving the problem as to whether she was wicked or not, but one thing she knew for certain, that he loved her, and so she hoped his love might not be in vain.
She herself had quietly renounced all thought of him. Perhaps she would become a Catholic again, and go into a convent, or perhaps, as sick-nurse, succumb to the first epidemic. There were, indeed, numbers of opportunities of seeking the death of the superfluous.
Her intention of becoming a hospital-nurse Hertha had not been able to keep to herself. Her stepmother, unfortunately, encouraged the idea. At this time she wore black dresses with white turn-down collars and cuffs, after the style of English nurses, and in secret made the sign of the cross over herself and Elly.
This phase in Hertha caused grandmamma much uneasiness, and as she found that she could no longer win the child's confidence, she consulted Pastor Brenckenberg about her one Sunday in the vestry.
The old man gave wise advice. He stroked his fat double chin, and said, grinning--
"Don't fret, Frau von Sellenthin, it is really nothing serious. Between the ages of fifteen and eighteen, sometimes sooner, sometimes later, most young girls get a strong religious craze. It will pass off like measles. Crossing herself, too, a habit she must have acquired when a Catholic, she will grow out of. Mark my words, and have patience."
The old lady smiled, and was satisfied, but Hertha's strenuous mood continued. She had blue rings round her eyes, and gazed at the moon.
One might have thought she was ill, had not her figure, in these weeks, began to develop into beauty. The flatness of her breast yielded to rounded curves; her brown throat became fuller; her shoulders lost their angularity and took on graceful sloping lines. Her face alone remained small and sharp, and kept its bird-like, restless expression.