Fräulein sighed and shook her head.
“Then you may be quite certain you will never be able to help a German in distress,” she said, “but you have a kind heart, and there are not many kind hearts in this cruel world now.”
There was something very pathetic in the quiver of Fräulein’s voice, and in her red, swollen eyes, and all at once Gretel found herself recalling the dingy little flat, where her friend’s relatives lived. After all, it was very sad to be alone in an enemy’s country in war time. Before she quite realized what she was doing, her arms were round Fräulein’s neck again, and she was kissing her, and murmuring in her half-forgotten German:
“Dear Fräulein, I love you very much, and if I can ever help you in any way, indeed, indeed I will try.”
An hour and a half later, Gretel was standing at the hall window, watching the station bus, with Fräulein and her belongings inside, disappearing from sight in the gathering dusk. In spite of herself, she could not help a little sigh of relief.
“Poor Fräulein,” she said to herself, “I’m terribly sorry for her, of course, but I can’t help feeling rather glad she’s gone. I am sure she’ll be much happier with her own people, even if she does think she won’t.”
She was turning to go up-stairs when she encountered Miss Laura, coming out of Miss Minton’s private sitting-room. Miss Laura was much more approachable than her sister, and would sometimes condescend to be quite friendly, even confidential with the girls. On the present occasion she stopped Gretel to inquire rather mysteriously:
“Has she gone?”
“Do you mean Fräulein?” asked Gretel. “Yes, the bus has just left.”
“Well, I must say I am relieved,” said Miss Laura. “I was so afraid she would make a scene of some sort; those foreigners are so dramatic. She has quite upset Sister; she was so rude; really almost violent in her language. I should have been frightened to death, but Sister is always so calm. She assured the woman there was no reason for her leaving at once. It was merely a question of discontinuing the German classes during the war. Fräulein flew into a rage, and declared she would go by the first train, and that no earthly consideration would induce her to spend another night under our roof. Downright ungrateful conduct, I call it, after the care Sister took of her when she was laid up so long with bronchitis last winter. But then, what else can one expect from a German?”