“No, I won’t do that,” said Dino quietly. “I won’t forget you once, least of all a hundred times. I’ll prove it to you, Cornelli. Let us still have a good time together and enjoy the four remaining days that I can stay here. Let us look forward, also, to the time when I shall come again. Just think how much the kid will have grown by then! We shall be able to drive together. I’ll be the coachman and you’ll be the lady in the carriage. That will be splendid!”
But Cornelli could no longer be really gay. She always saw the moment before her when Dino had to say good-bye, and when all their fun would be over. The morning really came fast enough when she had to take leave of him in Martha’s cottage. After Dino had driven away, Cornelli buried her head in her arms and cried piteously. Martha, too, was heavy of heart, and sat beside her, crying quietly.
That same evening when dinner was done and Cornelli got up from table to leave the room, the cousin said: “You have not said a single word to-day, Cornelli. You seem to get worse instead of better! Ought your father find you worse on coming home than when he left?”
“Good-night,” said Cornelli hoarsely, and left the room without once looking up.
“There is nothing to be done with her; you can see it for yourself, Betty. You have thought that we could still produce a change for the better,” said Miss Dorner, after Cornelli had shut the door behind her. “What have we accomplished with our best efforts? We have tried hard enough for her father’s sake. How terrible it will be for him to live alone with her again! Instead of cheering his lonely life, she will only cause him worry and trouble. And what a sight she is! Have you ever seen an obstinacy equal to hers in all your life?”
“No, never,” replied the friend. “It actually seems as if all the helpful words we have spoken had the opposite effect with her. Whenever we told her how terrible she looked, the disfiguring hair fringes always seemed to get worse. I should like to know what one could do to break her stubborn will. Maybe great severity would do it or bringing together Cornelli and other children; they might cure her by laughing at her.”
“I do not believe so, for nothing seems to help,” Miss Dorner concluded. “My cousin himself, when he comes back, shall decide what to do with her. But I know that one thing is certain: whatever will be done, she will never be a joy to her father.”
CHAPTER VII
A NEW SORROW
Autumn had come, and all the fruit trees in Mr. Hellmut’s garden were laden with gorgeous fruit. Bright red apples and golden pears were shining through the green branches; dark blue plums, honey sweet, fell here and there from the deeply weighted trees. Whoever passed the garden had to stand still and look, full of wonder, at this great abundance, and many a person was tempted to leap over the hedge and get one of the golden pears as a prize.
Cornelli, staring in front of her, was sitting on the bench under the hazel nut tree. Matthew was just approaching from the stable; he wore his best coat, and one could see that something special was going on.