They even informed their brother of the cry of pain they had heard after shooting. They took Rolf to Mrs. Kurd's garden and showed him where the arrow might be. Sure enough, there it lay on the ground. As soon as Rolf was reconciled by finding the arrow, he ran at once to Paula and Jul, crying, "Did you know they shot a child?" That was the reason why all six children with Miss Hanenwinkel behind them, stood on the stone steps outside the house waiting in suspense and agitation for their mother's return.
She had hardly come in sight, when Hun cried, "Where did they shoot her?"
And all bombarded her with questions. "Is it a child?" "Is it a boy?" "How big is it?" "What is its name?" "Is it much hurt?"
"Come inside, children," said the mother, trying to keep them within bounds. When they all stood around her, she told them that Willi and Lili had hurt a frail little girl, who could not move her arm, but was obliged to carry it in a tight bandage. The child was of Paula's age and spoke beautifully. She was well brought up, and looked extremely pleasant. Her name was Dora, and she was coming over that afternoon to make their acquaintance.
They were even more interested now and the children wondered what Dora looked like, and whether they could understand her. Each hoped to be her special friend.
But Paula, who was more deeply thrilled than anybody, said, "Oh, mamma, I am so glad that she is just my age. Isn't it nice she is so refined? Oh, how glad I am!" In secret, she already schemed for a great and lasting friendship with her little neighbor and could hardly wait for the afternoon to come. Rolf thought that Dora would be just the right age for him, and hoped secretly she would enjoy guessing his charades. The twins, feeling that Dora was their special property, as long as they had shot her, counted already on her being a useful playmate. For their schemes and games they often wished for a third, and Paula was almost never in the mood to be of help. Hun said, full of satisfaction, "I shall be glad when Dora comes, for I can go to her when no one else has time and all our chairs are topsy-turvy." He was thinking of his dreary hours on Saturday morning, when he never knew what to play or do. Jul in his turn asked his little brother, "But, Hun, what do you think Dora and I could do together?"
"I know," said the little one, after a short reflection. "Dora can help us to take off your riding boots. Last time, there were not nearly enough of us; remember?"
"You are right," said Jul, delighted.
Dora lived through the morning in joyful trepidation, not knowing what to do from happiness. Her great wish at last was coming true, and she was to visit the merry children in their pretty garden. But suddenly she was filled with qualms. She had learned to know and love the children at her place of observation, whereas she was quite unknown to them. Not only that, but the consciousness of being so ignorant and awkward compared to them cast her spirits down. She knew how accomplished and clever they all were, and it was quite possible they would have nothing to do with her at all. These conjectures in turn troubled and delighted her during the dinner hour, and made it difficult for her to eat.
At last the wished for time came, when Aunt Ninette said to Dora, "You can go now."