The school closed at eleven o'clock on Saturday. Otto let all the children pass out; when they had gone, he went outside, locked the door, and stood with his back against it waiting to see who would come back to do the work. He stood there waiting until half past eleven, and still no one came.
Otto remembered that the family at home were to have lunch promptly at twelve, for an afternoon's outing had been planned and he had promised to get home as early as possible. It became evident that he was going to have to do the work himself, and he dared wait no longer. Greatly disappointed, he unlocked the door and entered the room, but—Otto could scarcely believe his eyes—the work was finished as usual.
How very strange it seemed! For a moment a superstitious fear possessed him, and he tiptoed to the door and went out, taking pains to lock it securely behind him.
Just at that moment Wiseli came quietly out of the teacher's kitchen door; she listened intently for a moment, but hearing no one, started on her way home, which led her by the schoolhouse door. The next moment she and Otto were face to face. Each was startled at the other's presence, and Wiseli blushed deeply, as if she had been caught doing something very wrong. This partly betrayed her to Otto, who said: "Surely, Wiseli, you have not been doing all that work for me this week? How could any one who didn't have to?"
"It has given me a great deal of pleasure," said Wiseli.
"Oh, no, don't say that!" exclaimed Otto. "To do such work couldn't give anybody any pleasure."
"But it did, really, Otto. I was always glad when night came and I could do it again. I was all the time thinking how glad and surprised you would be to find the task finished."
"What made you do it for me, Wiseli?"
"I knew that you didn't like to do it, and I have many a time wished for an opportunity to do something for you."