Just as she put her finger to the door, Vinzi opened it and came out completely dressed.
Stefeli drew back amazed.
“But you get up dreadfully early!” she exclaimed. “You never used to do that, Vinzi; that’s why I wanted to call you.”
“Now you see that I can do it, too,” Vinzi said, laughing at her surprise. “On the mountain I always got up early. When one impatiently looks forward to something pleasant, sleep goes off easily. One can jump out of bed then. You see I have still the habit.”
“What was it that made you so happy? What did you look forward to every day?” asked Stefeli surprised.
“Come, I’ll tell you,” said Vinzi, going downstairs.
Under the open door stood the father taking a look at the weather. He too, had only just come out of his bedroom. He turned around.
“What, you up already?” he said, astonished. “That’s a good sign. You learned something worth while up there, Vinzi, for you did not use to be the first in the morning. Come and walk over to our walnut trees till your mother calls us to breakfast. Don’t you think our trees are fine, and the grass about them, too? I hope you have learned to see that it is not quite so bad here at home. It is beautiful here, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yes,” assented Vinzi from the bottom of his heart, looking up to the rich foliage of the walnut trees under whose shade he had spent so many happy hours.
“I suppose you found out up there how fine the life of a farmer really is. If you have done so, you’ll realize now how beautiful our place is. You could not possibly have a better prospect than to own and cultivate such a fine farm. Don’t you agree with me that it is the best anybody could hope for?”