Gretchen, for she it was, laid aside a couple of schoolbooks that she had under her arm, threw off her cloak and hood, and busied herself with the neglected soup. "I understand,--first you kindled a huge fire, and then never thought of it again. The soup is not skimmed, and the beef is burned, and yet half raw. Yon cannot have looked at it for at least an hour."
"It is such a pity that we had to sell my watch," Ernestine excused herself. "I never know now how the time goes."
"Nonsense!" said Gretchen, "you can surely tell without a watch whether the soup boils and the fire burns or not. Only try, and all will go right. You have often proved that you can really cook quite well if you will only take pains. But I cannot trust you with soup and beef again,--you forget everything when once you begin to dream."
"Gretchen, don't be angry," pleaded Ernestine.
"But here is all the food spoiled that was so hardly earned, and we have not a single groschen in the house, and shall not have, until my money is paid me to-morrow." And tears of vexation came into Gretchen's eyes. "I care more about you than about myself. I am strong, and do not need meat; but you,--indeed you ought to think of yourself, if not of me!"
Ernestine, in her confusion, looked from the saucepan to Gretchen, and from Gretchen to the saucepan, in dismay. "You are right," she said,--"it is unpardonable not to take care that you, poor child, should have something hot and good when you come home wearied from your work. Indeed I am a useless creature!"
Gretchen was instantly appeased. She laughed, and threw her arms around Ernestine. "Ah! my beautiful, grand, intellectual sister, it is too bad to scold you! Just hear my queenly Ernestine sue for pardon, like some poor Cinderella, and all for a piece of burnt meat! Don't mind it, dear. You can't think how touching your humility is. Why, I could kneel at your feet, if you would let me." She kissed her sister's lips. "Oh, what a poor distressed face! Don't you know, dearest Ernestine, that the sight of that face is more to me than all the dinners in the world?" And she laughed as merrily as a child.
Ernestine returned her embrace. "There, you forgive me," she said tenderly.
"Oh, no, I beg your pardon," said Gretchen, "I will educate you. But enough of this. We must proceed to business at once. I must go back to school at two o'clock, and we cannot starve. We must give up the meat for to-day. There is no help for it. We must indulge ourselves in the luxury of an omelet."
"Let me make it," Ernestine begged. "Sit down and rest yourself, you are tired."