"That is the very point I am worried about," continued his wife. "How can we guard ourselves, for instance, against an overcrowded house. Just think if we should come into a noisy neighborhood with a school or mill or even a waterfall, which are so plentiful in Switzerland. How can we know that some frightful factory is not near us, or a place where they have conventions to which people from all cantons come together. Oh, what a tumult this would make and it must be prevented at all costs. I have an idea, though, dearest Titus. I'll write to Hamburg, where an old uncle of my sister-in-law lives. At one time his family lived in Switzerland and I can make inquiries there."
"That seems decidedly far-fetched to me," replied Uncle Titus, "and as far as I know, the family had some disagreeable experiences in Switzerland. They probably have severed all connections with it."
"Just let me look after it. I'll see to everything, dear Titus," concluded Aunt Ninette.
After writing a letter to Hamburg, she went to Dora's sewing-teacher, a very decent woman, and asked her to take care of Dora while they were away in Switzerland. After some suggestions from both women, it was decided that Dora should spend her free time at the seamstress's house, and at night, the woman would come home with the child in order to have someone in the house. When Dora was told about these plans that evening, she said nothing and went up to her lonely garret. Here she sat down on the bed, and sad memories crowded upon her mind of the times when she and her father had been so happy. They had spent every evening together and when he had been tired and had gone to bed early, she had come to his bedside. She was conscious how forsaken she would be when her uncle and aunt had left, more lonely even than she was now. Nobody would be here to love her and nobody she could love, either.
Gradually, poor Dora grew so sad that she drooped her head and began to cry bitterly, and the more she wept the more forlorn she felt. If her uncle and aunt should die, not a soul would be left on earth belonging to her and her whole life would be spent in sewing horrid heavy shirts. She knew that this was the only way by which she could earn her livelihood and the prospect was very dreary. She would not have minded if only she had someone to be fond of, for working alone all day, year in and year out, seemed very dreadful.
She sat there a long time crying, till the striking of the nearby church clock startled her. When at last she raised her head it was completely dark. Her little candle was burnt out and no more street lamps threw their light up from the street. But through the little window her five stars gaily gleamed, making Dora feel as if her father were looking down affectionately upon her, reminding her confidently as on that memorable evening:
"'Yet God keeps watch above us
And doeth all things well.'"
The sparkling starlight sank deep into her heart and made it bright again, for what her father had said to her must be the truth. She must have confidence and needn't be frightened at what was coming. Dora could now lie down quietly, and until her eyes closed of themselves, she looked at her bright stars which had grown to be such faithful comforters.
The evening of the following day, the doctor appeared again as promised with many suggestions to Mr. Ehrenreich about where to go. But Aunt Ninette lost no time in stepping up and declaring that she was already on the search for a suitable place. Many conditions had to be fulfilled if the unusual event was to have no fearful consequences for her husband, every detail had to be looked into, and when everything was settled, she would ask for his approval.
"Don't wait too long, go as soon as possible; don't wait," urged the doctor in an apparent hurry to leave, but nearly falling over Dora who had entered noiselessly just a moment before.