"But," said Lena, "what do they do in house—when bread is made and dish-wash?"
I told her our women read books and played the piano and made themselves pretty clothes and went visiting and had parties, and sometimes played cards.
Of course it was not all told as easily as this sounds.
I could see that Lena was deeply impressed, and so were the two others when she passed it on. Then she began to question me again.
"Are there many women in Canada—women in every house—like here?"
I told her there were not nearly so many women in Canada as here; indeed, there were not enough to go around, and there were lots of men who could not get married for that reason.
When Lena passed that on, excitement reigned, and German questions were hurled at me! I think the three girls were ready to leave home! I gently reminded them of the war and the complications it had caused in the matter of travelling. They threw out their hands with a gesture of despair—there could be no Canada for them. "Fertig," they said—which is the word they use to mean "no chance," "no use to try further."
Lena, however, having travelled as far as Sweden, and knowing, therefore, something of the world's ways, was not altogether without hope.
"The war—will be some day done!" she said—and we let it go at that.
Lena began to teach me German, and used current events as the basis of instruction. Before the end of the first day I was handling sentences like this—"Herr Schmidt expects to have his young child christened in the church next Sunday at 2 o'clock, God willing."