Kaya's eyes began to glisten and sparkle: "It is only the bird's part!" she cried, "and I am hidden in the flies, so no one can see me. Ah—I am happy! I am well, Doctor—you have made me well!"
Presently the old woman brought in the soup and the Doctor rose: "Will you come with me, Herr Kapellmeister?" he said, "We can smoke below in the mill, while the Fräulein eats. I have still a few minutes."
Then the Kapellmeister left the window, and the two men went out together.
"Marta!" cried the girl, "I can sing! Did you hear him say it? Give me the soup quickly, while it is hot. I feel so strong—so well!"
She began taking the soup with one hand, and rubbing her cheek with the other: "Now, isn't it red, Marta? Look—tell me! Nurse, while you knit, tell me—did you see how angry he was, and how he went out without a word? It is he himself who asked me to sing, so why should he be angry now?"
The old woman clicked her knitting needles: "How do I know!" she said, "He lives alone so much, and he is crusty and crabbed, they say. I nursed him when he was a child, just as I nurse you now. He has a temper—Jesus-Maria—the master! But his heart is of gold. His wife—" she hesitated, "She was a singer, and she ran away and left him. They say she ran away with the famous tenor, Brondi, who used to sing Tristan. Since then the master has been soured-like!"
"That is strange," said Kaya dreamily, "to run away from some one you love, when you can be with him night and day and never leave him! Sometimes there is a curse, and you are torn by your love, whether to go or stay. But if you love him enough, you go—and that is the best love—to save him from the curse and suffer yourself alone. Perhaps there was a curse."
"What are you saying?" cried the old woman, "When you were delirious, it was always a curse you raved of, and stains on your hands. Mein Gott! My blood ran cold just to hear you, and the Kapellmeister used to come—"
Kaya turned white: "He came?" she said, "and he heard me? What did I say, Marta, tell me! Tell me quickly!" She caught the old woman's hands and wrung them between her own.
"Jesus-Maria! My knitting!—What you said, Fräulein? How do I remember! Stuff and nonsense mostly! You were crazy with fever, and your eyes used to shine so, it made me afraid. Then the Kapellmeister would come and put you to sleep with his eyes.—Let go of my hands, Fräulein, you are crushing the wool! Is it the fever come back?— Oh Je!"