The same evening Vinzi’s father passed Mrs. Troll’s house as he cut across the field on his way home. As she happened to be in her garden at the time she called out to him. “Hey there! neighbor Lesa, I have something to say to you.”
He approached.
“I wonder,” she continued, “if it would not be better for your boy if he had something to do, instead of running into other people’s houses and getting into mischief.”
“What do you mean, neighbor?” asked Lesa, pressing his lips together.
“You ask what I mean? Well, your boy has been here several times to amuse the little girl who boards here. They play music together and such stuff,” said Mrs. Troll. “But the governess won’t hear of it and the boy must stay where he belongs from now on.”
“He’ll stay there safe enough; good-bye,” said Lesa, going his way.
At supper time he came home. Both children were seated at the table, because the mother liked to have everything ready for her husband. She immediately brought in the supper and sat down, too. But he said nothing. Once in a while the mother looked questioningly at him, but as he took no notice she realized that something must have happened. Her husband apparently wished to be alone. Therefore as soon as the meal was done and she had finished the necessary tasks, the children were sent to bed. When Lesa found himself alone with his wife he said to her, “Sit down, I must talk to you.”
She did as she was bid.
“I have had enough of the boy now,” he began in quite a temper. “It is not enough that he does nothing, understands nothing, and can’t be good for anything on the farm; now he even has to bring shame and dishonor upon us. This is the end now and I’ve made up my mind to send him away.”
The woman had grown pale with fright.