The days passed by quickly, and the last week of Dora's stay had come. They were to leave on Monday, and the Sunday before a supper party was to take place, though everyone felt far from festive. Rolf alone was making eager preparations, which consisted in hanging up several charades, made transparent by multicolored lights, in the garden house in honor of his kind patron.
Dora sat down to lunch with the children on Saturday, and not much appetite was displayed by anybody. When the mother was helping them to their soup, several voices said, "Please, very little;" "Only a tiny bit for me;" "Not much for me;" "Better none for me at all." "None for me at all, please."
"I'd like to know if you all deny yourselves, because the grief of the near parting is so intense, or is it that the onion soup does not suit you?"
"Onion soup, oh, onion soup! Now I know the answer to Hun's charade," cried Rolf, delighted at the victory, for he had hardly been able to bear the humiliation of not guessing it before.
The solution proved correct.
Little Hun, who sat mournfully on his chair, said, "Oh, papa, if only you had not said that we deny ourselves this onion soup! Then nobody would ever have guessed my charade. Oh, all is over now!"
But Dora, who sat beside him, had consolation as always for the little one. She whispered in his ear, "It is not all over, Hun. This afternoon, I'll guide your hand and you can write your charade in my album. I'll give it to lots of people in Karlsruhe who know nothing about it."
That proved a comfort to the little boy, and he finished his lunch without a scene. Afterwards, all gathered under the apple tree as usual, except that the children were far from happy, as it was to be the last time that Dora would sit amongst them. Tomorrow she had to help her aunt with packing, and would only be over in the evening with both her relatives.
Paula's eyes were filled with tears and she could not speak. Lili expressed her grief by wriggling nervously around, but at last she burst out passionately, "Oh, mamma, I don't want to play the piano any more when Dora goes. It will be so tiresome then, for Miss Hanenwinkel will just say that I am dreadfully lazy. I won't care for anything any more; nothing will be fun then."
"Oh, dear!" sighed Jul. "We are nearing hard and dangerous times as soon as the twins find life tiresome again. I can really see no reason for Dora to depart," he continued. "It would do her a lot of good to stay till winter time. Why doesn't she? Her uncle and aunt can go back to their peaceful home in Karlsruhe alone."