"My dear Ernestine, I do not believe you can ever learn these things. They are too far beneath you."
"My superiority is truly deplorable," replied Ernestine. "It does not help me to discharge the smallest duty. Difficulties always incite me, and, now that I see how difficult these trifles are, I am determined to master them."
Gretchen handed her a piece of the omelet. "Now put away your work, or your dinner will be quite cold."
Ernestine laid aside the skirt upon which she was working. "I shall never get it together again. I wish I had not ripped it apart!"
"Why, you could never have worn it, with the front breadth so scorched. But I will help you this evening. It is my fault that you scorched it,--I should not have let you make the fire,--so it is no more than reasonable that I should help you to repair the injury. But, Ernestine dear, you do not eat."
"I have had enough. If you would have allowed me, I could have made two omelets out of those eggs."
Gretchen laughed merrily. "Hear her say how much better she could have made it! Well, only wait, day after to-morrow is Sunday, and I shall be at home, and then you may cook as much as you please, under my direction. That will be a real holiday for you."
"Ah, Gretchen, how often I think of the Staatsräthin, when she wanted to teach me to prepare the beans for cooking, and I felt it an occupation so far beneath my dignity! I did not understand her then, but I have learned to do so now." She sat lost in sad reflections.
Gretchen looked at Ernestine's plate, and shook her head. "What shall I get for you that you can eat? If you would only let me accept something now and then from my guardian. He would be so glad to assist us."
"Gretchen, I have nothing to do with what he gives you," said Ernestine gravely, "but no morsel that he might send us should pass my lips, any more than I would accept one of the two dresses he sent to you. I know I am severe, for I force you to starve with me, but, God willing,"--and she uttered the name of God with more reverence than is usually shown by those who have it constantly on their lips,--"it will not last much longer. I must surely obtain a situation soon, and then you, you dear, faithful child, will be free to return to the Möllners, or whithersoever you choose, and begin to enjoy your young life. I will confess to you, Gretchen, that I wrote again, the day before yesterday, to the agent in Frankfort, begging him to do all that he could for me. There must be a place for me somewhere in this wide world."