Mr. Thornau was quietly chuckling to himself as he strolled down the mountain. He clearly recollected the last case he had had to arbitrate. Alida, while practicing, had rather urgently banged the innocent keys to make them feel how little to her taste it was to have to spend her time with them. Miss Landrat had given her a well-earned scolding, but had unfortunately grown violently angry. Suddenly Alida had pressed both hands on her mouth to keep herself from bursting out laughing. “Why are you laughing?” Miss Landrat had asked, still more angry. Alida shortly declared she could not tell why. On being asked three times more, she repeated the same answer. Finally the governess absolutely commanded her to tell the truth and she was reminded of her duty to obey. Alida knew that she must do so and therefore she informed the questioner that her face had grown so pointed while she was scolding her that she had resembled a drawing in her natural history book. She had suddenly thought her governess’s name might really be Miss Landrat.[B] This impertinence was reported to her father, but Alida vigorously objected that she had not meant to be impertinent in the least. As her father had ordered her to obey, she could not do otherwise. The father had really found it a rather hard case to settle.
Mr. Thornau reached Mrs. Troll’s house. The door was violently thrown open and Alida, who had spied her father, came rushing out. At the first moment of their greeting a whole stream of information about the event in question came pouring from her lips. But the father checked her. “Miss Landrat will be heard first; your turn comes next,” he said. He kept his word and first got one version, which was followed by a vivid second from his daughter. Alida fully described Mrs. Troll’s horrid behavior to Vinzi when she had sent him off. Hugo figured as witness and assured his father that Vinzi was a charming looking boy and not a common street boy by any means. He boldly stated that he would much rather associate with Vinzi than with Mrs. Troll.
The father never doubted that his daughter’s sudden enthusiasm for music had an extraordinary cause. But this was not the most important point. He felt that the boy who had so honestly returned his daughter’s property, and had been invited by her to return to the house, had been treated most insultingly. He felt anxious to offer some kind of reparation and decided to pay a little call on the boy and his parents and to apologize for what had happened. They might give the boy a small present as a reward for returning the shawl. Full of joy Alida offered to act as guide, as Vinzi had told her where he lived and how to get there. They had no trouble finding Lesa’s house as a slightly curving path which led across the big meadow took them there in the shortest time. Everything round about was quiet, with the exception of peaceful cackling sounds from the farm-yard. The house looked most tidy. The lawn was newly mowed, the road was swept, and the bench in the shade of the walnut tree seemed to have been polished.
“I like the looks of this place,” said Mr. Thornau, glancing about with satisfaction. “Too bad, too, bad,” he added. The last words he had murmered to himself, but Alida had heard and interpreted them.
“Don’t you mean it is too bad we don’t live here, papa?” she cried. “But we could easily move here, as our piano is only rented. Vinzi could practice with me every day. Then I’d really enjoy it. You know, papa, it is dreadfully stupid to learn alone. That’s why I gave him lessons; it made him practice, too. He is so clever that he’ll soon learn.”
The father burst into a laugh. “I see the reason for the music lessons now! Excellent! Did you say your pupil was anxious to learn?”
“Oh, yes, and he was so clever, too,” exclaimed Alida. “Just think, papa, when I explained anything to him he usually understood it better than I did and afterwards was able to explain it all to me.”
The father could not help smiling as he approached the door, which was unfastened.
Mr. Thornau, entering the hall, knocked on the first door. In answer to a call from within he went into a large bright room. Mrs. Lesa was sitting near the window with some sewing and Stefeli in front of her. The little girl’s small fingers were with difficulty holding several thick knitting-needles; the coarse thread was wound six times around her index-finger. The woman rose at once and met her visitors. Mr. Thornau, introducing himself, gave her to understand that he had come to express his sincere regret for what Mrs. Troll had said to Vinzi. He knew that the boy had brought back Alida’s property and had been invited by Alida to come again. He also hoped that he and his children would be able to tell Vinzi themselves how sorry they were about Mrs. Troll’s unkind words. He wondered if he would accept some friendly attention from them in gratitude for finding the shawl. Mrs. Lesa did not know what Mrs. Troll’s words had been, for Vinzi had not repeated them. She realized what must have happened, however, and it came into her mind that Mrs. Troll’s remarks to her husband had occasioned Vinzi’s immediate removal from home. He had left only that morning and all the mother’s thoughts had been engrossed by his going. Begging the gentleman to take a seat she told him where Vinzi had been sent.
Alida, rushing up to Stefeli, asked her impetuously, “Where is your brother?”