“It will never again be that way,” she said to herself. The thought seemed to weigh so heavily on her that she suddenly stood still. At that moment her father opened the door in front of which she stood. “Oh, here you are, Cornelli,” he said delightedly. “Did you want to pay me a little visit? We have really hardly seen each other. Come in here! I was just going to get you, for I want to speak with you.”
Cornelli entered, not saying a word and avoiding her father’s glance.
“Come, Cornelli,” he said, leading her through the room and sitting down beside her. “I have something to tell you that will make you very happy. You have changed so much during my absence and so little to your advantage that something has to be done for your education. It is high time. I shall take you to a boarding school in town, where you can be with many other children and young girls. You will have the chance to learn many things from them and to make friends with many. You will be sure to change there, then you can return to bring your father joy. I cannot enjoy you now, for I do not know what ails you. It may be better after you get some education. I expect to take you away next week.”
Cornelli’s face became snow white from sudden terror. First she uttered no sound, but soon she burst into violent tears.
“Oh, Papa,” she sobbed, “leave me at home! I’ll be good. Oh, don’t send me to town to so many children! Oh, I can’t, I can’t. Oh, Papa, don’t send me away!”
Mr. Hellmut could not bear to see Cornelli’s tears and still less to hear her supplications. “But for her own good it has to be,” he said to himself to strengthen his resolution. Cornelli’s lamentations were too much for him and he rushed away.
Several hours later, the time had come for supper and he returned from the iron foundry.
Esther came to meet him: “Oh, I am glad that you have come, Director,” she said excitedly. “When I went up to Cornelli just now she was crying. I wanted her to taste some of the little plum cakes she usually likes so much, but the poor child only shrieked: ‘Oh, leave me here, leave me here!’ Oh, Mr. Hellmut, what if Cornelli should get sick and die?”
“Nonsense, Esther,” he returned; “children do not die from obstinacy.”
The master of the house had tried to speak harshly, but he did not quite succeed. He ran straight upstairs to Cornelli’s room and saw the child on her knees in front of the bed. Her head was pressed into the pillows and she cried as if her heart was breaking.