“And you are taking the course just on his account, Armgard; you gaze at him all the time with your blue eyes, as if—”
“Are you in love with him?” asked Tony. “I can’t undo my shoe-lace; please, Gerda. Thanks. Why don’t you marry him? He is a good match—he will get to be a High School Professor.”
“I think you are both horrid. I’m not in love with him, and I would not marry a teacher, anyhow. I shall marry a country gentleman.”
“A nobleman?” Tony dropped her stocking and looked thoughtfully into Armgard’s face.
“I don’t know, yet. But he must have a large estate. Oh, girls, I just love that sort of thing! I shall get up at five o’clock every morning, and attend to everything....” She pulled up the bed-covers and stared dreamily at the ceiling.
“Five hundred cows are before your mind’s eye,” said Gerda, looking at her in the mirror.
Tony was not ready yet; but she let her head fall on the pillow, tucked her hands behind her neck, and gazed dreamily at the ceiling in her turn.
“Of course,” she said, “I shall marry a business man. He must have a lot of money, so we can furnish elegantly. I owe that to my family and the firm,” she added earnestly. “Yes, you’ll see, that’s what I shall do.”
Gerda had finished her hair for the night and was brushing her big white teeth, using the ivory-backed hand-mirror to see them better.
“I shall probably not marry at all,” she said, speaking with some difficulty on account of the tooth-powder. “I don’t see why I should. I am not anxious. I’ll go back to Amsterdam and play duets with Daddy and afterwards live with my married sister.”