“On her wedding-day she perhaps forgot that she had any,” said Trude, shrugging her shoulders, “and she should not be at once reminded of that trying occasion on her return. I expect her every moment, as the courier has already arrived an hour ago, and it would be better—”
“You cannot be so impudent as to tell me to leave? Indeed, I will not be prevented from waiting to receive my only child that I have not seen for three years. One can well believe that a mother would be impatient to embrace her dear daughter! I have no other happiness but my beloved child, and I long, unspeakably, to press her to my heart and tell her my sorrow.”
“Sorrow! is it possible that Frau von Werrig has any griefs? I supposed there was nothing in the world troubled her.”
“And yet I am very much tormented. I can well tell you, Trude, as you are familiar with our circumstances,” sighed the countess. “You know the general is tolerably well; the journeys to Wiesbaden and Teplitz have cured him of the gout unfortunately, so that he can go about.”
“Are you sorry for that, Frau von Werrig?”
“Certainly I am, Trude, as he has returned to his former habits, frequenting the society of drinking-houses and gamblers. Imagine the general played yesterday, lost all his ready money, and that was not enough, but signed away the year’s pension from Herr von Ebenstreit, during which time we have nothing but the miserable army annuity to live upon.”
“Then your income will be less to live upon than formerly, for dear Marie earned something with her flowers and lessons which she gave to you, although she was never thanked for it. She was then my dear good Marie, so industrious and patient, and worked untiringly for her parents! Then she forgot them not, and toiled early and late, and, oh, it breaks my heart to think of it, and I must cry in your presence!”
She raised the corner of her dark-blue apron and dried her eyes, holding it there as she continued to weep.
“What an ugly apron!” cried the countess, “and how meanly you are dressed altogether! Is that the way you intend to go looking as the housekeeper of a rich and genteel family? Go, Trude, quickly, and put something better on, that you may receive your master and mistress in a suitable dress.”
“I shall remain as I am, for I am very properly dressed. It may not be suitable for a housekeeper, but it becomes old Trude, and it is my Sunday frock, which I always wore when I was maid-of-all-work to you. You may not remember it, but dear Marie (I should say Baroness von Ebenstreit) will, perhaps, and it may recall her little room in the garret, and then—”