“What is it, Cornelli, what makes you so cross? Come, sit down here a while and tell me about it,” said Martha kindly. She put a chair beside her own at the table where her mending lay neatly sorted out.
“Of course, you can’t understand it, Martha,” Cornelli continued, just as excited as before. “Here with you everything is always the same and nobody comes and orders everything to be changed. Now, I am not allowed to come in any more without getting washed; now, I cannot come out of the stable without changing my clothes. Then I must not wash my hands at the hydrant because I get splashed, and, oh, so many new things have to be done; so different from before.”
“I am sure, Cornelli, that it is not at all bad that things should not always be the way they were before,” said Martha reflectively. “I believe that the lady who is related to you wants the same thing from you that your mother would have wished had she lived. This is very good for you. Of course, Miss Mina and Esther mean well, but your relation knows much better what is to be done to make you grow up the way your mother would have desired. Just think how happy your father would be if you should resemble your mother and he be reminded of her every time he looked at you. You well know what great joy that would be to him.”
Cornelli did know that her father would be very happy then, for he had made many remarks which she had understood. A short time ago he had said that his cousin found no likeness between his child and her mother, and Cornelli had observed the sad expression of his eyes when he had said it.
Cornelli shook her head. “You said once that my mother was different from anybody,” she said. “So I can’t ever be like her; you said so yourself, Martha.”
“Yes, yes, I have said that,” confirmed Martha. “But I have to explain something to you, Cornelli. If you can’t become exactly like your mother, you certainly can become more like her than anybody else, for you are her child, and a child always has something from her mother. I have seen you look at me just the way she did, with the same brown eyes; but not when you frown the way you do to-day. You must try to watch the two ladies very carefully in all they do and in the way they speak. They are your mother’s kind, and that is why I am so glad that you can watch their manners and can try to imitate them. You can learn to resemble your mother in your ways, if you copy the ladies.”
“Yes, I shall do that,” agreed Cornelli. “Just the same, I am not terribly pleased that they are here and that everything has to be changed. Oh dear, I have just remembered that I have to be back now and drink some hot coffee and milk, because Miss Dorner says that the afternoons are so frightfully long in the country they have to be interrupted. At that time I always used to get from the garden some apples or cherries or whatever else there was, and they always tasted so awfully good. If I only could lengthen my afternoon, which seems too long to them! I never can do all I plan to do. Good-bye, Martha.”
And with these words Cornelli ran away.
CHAPTER IV
THE UNWISHED-FOR HAPPENS
Esther, the able mistress of the kitchen, was standing in the garden picking green peas, which hung in clusters from the vines. They had ripened quickly in the sunny June weather.