S. (Aside.) Good soul! she doesn’t suspect that my plan is a double scheme—includes a speaking knowledge of German, which I am bound they shall have, and the keeping them away from those two young fellows—though if I had known that those boys were going off for a year’s foreign travel, I—however, the girls would never learn that language at home; they’re here, and I won’t relent—they’ve got to stick the three months out. (Aloud.) So they are making poor progress? Now tell me—will they learn it—after a sort of fashion, I mean—in the three months?
Wirthin. Well, now, I’ll tell you the only chance I see. Do what I will, they won’t answer my German with anything but English; if that goes on, they’ll stand stock still. Now I’m willing to do this: I’ll straighten everything up, get matters in smooth running order, and day after to-morrow I’ll go to bed sick, and stay sick three weeks.
S. Good! You are an angel! I see your idea. The servant girl—
Wirthin. That’s it; that’s my project. She doesn’t know a word of English. And Gretchen’s a real good soul, and can talk the slates off a roof. Her tongue’s just a flutter-mill. I’ll keep my room,—just ailing a little,—and they’ll never see my face except when they pay their little duty-visits to me, and then I’ll say English disorders my mind. They’ll be shut up with Gretchen’s wind-mill, and she’ll just grind them to powder. Oh, they’ll get a start in the language—sort of a one, sure’s you live. You come back in three weeks.
S. Bless you, my Retterin! I’ll be here to the day! Get ye to your sick-room—you shall have treble pay. (Looking at watch.) Good! I can just catch my train. Leben Sie wohl! (Exit.)
Wirthin. Leben Sie wohl! mein Herr!
ACT II.
SCENE I.
Time, a couple of days later. (The girls discovered with their work and primers.)
Annie. Was fehlt der Wirthin?