"Come with me. Don't let us remain longer." And that was such terrible agony to me! My brother told me to wait in my room, and not to move from it until he had ordered the carriage which was to take us away.
"Whither?" I asked.
"Away to the country. Remain here and don't go anywhere else." And to keep me secure he locked the door upon me.
Then I fell a-thinking. Why should we go to the country now that our father was lying dead? Why must I remain meanwhile in that room? Why do none of our acquaintances come to see us? Why do those who go about the house whisper so quietly? Why do they not toll the bell when so great a one lies dead in the house?
All this distracted my brain entirely. To nothing could I give myself an answer, and no one came to me from whom I could have demanded the truth.
Once, not long after (to me it seemed an age, though, if the truth be known, it was probably only a half-hour or so), I heard the old serving-maid, who had been watching in yonder chamber, tripping past the corridor window. Evidently some one else had taken her place.
Her face was now as indifferent as it always was. Her eyes were cried out; but I am sure I had seen her weep every day, whether in good or in bad humor; it was all one with her. I addressed her through the window:
"Aunt Susie, come here."
"What do you want, dear little Desi?"
"Susie, tell me truly, why am I not allowed to kiss my father's face?"