"I thank you!" said Ernestine. "You are kinder to me than any one ever was before. I have many flowers in my garden, but none, I think, so lovely as these. They are the first flowers I ever had given to me. I know now how pleasant it is."
"Did your uncle never give you a bouquet upon your birthday?" asked the Staatsräthin.
"Oh, no! And I do not think it would have delighted me so from him!" said Ernestine, with artless ease.
Johannes's face beamed at these words. "When is your birthday, Ernestine?" he asked, while the Staatsräthin led her to the breakfast-table.
Ernestine set down the cup that she was just about putting to her lips, and looked at him in amazement "I do not know!"
"You do not know!" cried Johannes.
"I will ask my uncle,--he told me once, but I have forgotten."
The Staatsräthin clasped her hands. "Forgotten your own birthday? Is it possible? Was it never celebrated?"
"Celebrated?" repeated Ernestine in surprise. "No, why should it have been celebrated?"
"What! do you know nothing of this affectionate custom?"