Fräulein put out her hand, and Gretel, supposing she was expected to take it, did so, and had her fingers squeezed affectionately.
“You wrote that you were going as governess to a German family,” she said. “I thought you would have left New York before I came back.”
“I did leave,” said Fräulein. “I went to Long Island for a week, but I did not like the family. The children did not treat me with proper respect.”
“And are you back at your aunt’s now?” Gretel asked.
“Yes, and I am happier there than I ever expected to be. There is nothing to draw people together like a great common sorrow.”
“Oh, has anything dreadful happened in your family?” Gretel’s voice was full of real concern now.
“Not in our family, but our country—the Fatherland. I was alluding to the war.”
“Oh,” said Gretel, “of course; I didn’t think. But your uncle is too old for the draft; he won’t have to go, will he?”
“Certainly not,” said Fräulein, “and thank God for it. You would not have a German fight against his country?”
“No, of course not, but your uncle has been in this country so many years. He is an American citizen, is he not?”