# Cornelli/Chapter 3

CHAPTER III
NEW APPEARANCES IN ILLER-STREAM
In the Director’s house in Iller-Stream reigned great excitement. The day had come when the two ladies from town were expected to arrive for their lengthy stay. To celebrate the coming of his guests, the master of the house had ordered a festive dinner for the middle of the day. He had been longing for this day, so was in a splendid humor. It was very important for him to start on his journey right away, and he had waited only to be able formally to receive his visitors. Also he had promised his cousin to give the reins of the household into her hands himself, after which event he had planned to start on his journey.
To Cornelli the preparations for the arrival of the new members of the household seemed very annoying, everything being different from usual. She commonly very much enjoyed the ​prospect of company, for on such occasions she paid frequent visits to the kitchen, where Esther was always busy cooking.
As soon as Cornelli appeared in the doorway, Esther would call to her: “Come and see which you like best, Cornelli; I am sure they are not so bad.” A small yellow apple tart and a round purple plum cake were ready for the child to taste, for her visit had been anticipated. Cornelli always assured the cook that the apple tarts were excellent and the plum cakes even better.
Then Cornelli would go into the pantry, where Miss Mina was fixing fruit on the crystal platters. Here many a raisin and almond would drop beside the plate, and from there find its way into Cornelli’s pocket. It was pleasant to have a supply whenever she felt like eating. The housekeeper dropped many nuts on purpose, for she did not want to be less sought after than her rival in the kitchen.
To-day Esther was flying around the kitchen violently rattling her pots and pans, and when Cornelli appeared, to see what was going on, the cook called to her: “Off with you! ​I have nothing for you here to-day. The ladies from town must not think that they have to show me how to cook a good dinner. I’ll show them. Go away and make room here for me. Make room, Cornelli! I have to fix the vegetables.”
Cornelli ran to the pantry.
Mina was just building up a splendid pile of cookies and almond rings. “Don’t come rushing in like that, or it will all tumble down,” she objected. “Don’t come so near to the table; this plate is all ready and nothing must be missing from it. I won’t have it said that one can see there is no mistress in this house, and that nobody here knows how to set a table.”
“If you are all so stingy to-day, I won’t bother you any more,” said Cornelli, and with these words she turned around and marched indignantly out of the house.
That moment, hearing the sound of approaching wheels, and looking down the road through the open place in front of the house, she spied the expected carriage with two ladies sitting in it.
“Matthew, Matthew,” she called out, in ​the direction of the large stable and the barn. These lay a little distance from the house, and were hidden by trees.
Matthew was the gardener who looked after the horses, and had also to superintend all the work done by his assistant in the garden and the stable. He was Cornelli’s special friend, whom she had known ever since she could remember, for he had served her grandfather.
He now came from the stable and mysteriously beckoned to her: “Come here quickly, run fast!” he said. “We’ll still get to the carriage in time. Only come for a moment.”
Cornelli ran to him, and looking into the stable, saw lying on soft fresh hay a tiny, snow-white kid. It looked like a toy, but was really alive.
“Oh, where did it come from, Matthew? Oh, how cunning it is! The white fine fur is just like silk! Can it walk alone? Can it stand, too, if it wants to? Oh, just see how friendly it is and how it is rubbing its little head against me.”
“Yes, but come, now; the carriage is driv​ing up,” Matthew urged. “Come quickly, you can see it every day. Just think! It was only born to-day.”
The carriage had just driven into the court and Matthew was there the moment the horses stopped. The Director was there, too; not to lose any time and yet not be tardy, he had put a watcher at the door to let him know when the carriage was approaching. The Director was very polite and lifted his cousin out of the carriage, greeting her heartily. Then he helped Miss Grideelen to dismount, thanking her warmly for coming. He told her how glad he was that she had been willing to follow his cousin into this solitude, for otherwise it would have worried him to leave her alone so long. He appreciated their great sacrifice in coming and he hoped that his trip, which was very urgent, would not keep him away too long.
“Where is your daughter, Frederick?” asked Miss Dorner now.
The Director glanced about.
“I saw her just a moment ago. Where are you, Cornelli?” he called towards the house.
“Here I am!” It sounded from very near, ​for Cornelli had hidden behind her father, so as to inspect the new arrivals without being seen herself.
“Come forward and speak to your cousin and to Miss Grideelen!” ordered Mr. Hellmut.
Cornelli gave her hand first to her relative and then to the other lady, saying to each: “How do you do?”
“You can call me cousin, and this lady is called Miss Grideelen,” said the cousin, hoping that the child would repeat her greeting and would call her and her friend by the names she was just told to use in speaking to them. But the child did not say another word.
The Director now turned towards the carriage, giving Matthew instructions for the horses. Then everybody stepped into the house and soon the whole company sat down at the richly laden dinner table. Miss Mina earned many praises for the deliciously planned meal. When the afternoon came the host took the ladies around his place, for his cousin was anxious to become acquainted with everything she had to take care of.
“Oh, what an abundance of fruit!” Miss ​Grideelen exclaimed over and over again. “How many cherry trees and what enormous apple trees! Oh, what a row of pear trees! You must be able to fill your bins with fruit in the autumn, Mr. Hellmut! Where do you have room for it all?”
“I do not know about it; my servants take care of that, for I have no time.”
“It is a great shame, Frederick, that you do not have half a dozen children. They would help to look after these matters,” the cousin remarked. “By the way, I wonder where your child is. She does not seem to be very sociable.”
“I do not know where she is,” replied Mr. Hellmut. “I am generally at work about this time and Mina probably knows what she is doing. Perhaps she is busy with her teacher. Cornelli has been alone so much that she could not get very sociable. That is why I am so grateful to you both for coming. I am so glad she can at last be in the environment I have always wanted for her. But what could I do? I have twice taken governesses into the house, to supply her with proper intercourse and opportunity for study. The first ran away be​cause she could not stand the solitude. The second wanted every servant to leave who had been here before her; Esther was to go, and even Matthew. She told me that I had to choose between her and the ‘old house-rats,’ as she called them.
“I showed no desire to send either of them away, and said to her: ‘It is better for you to go, for when the two have departed, it will probably be my turn next, as I shall be the oldest house-rat left.’ After that she departed and I had no more courage to go through another experience. But I knew that it was time for Cornelli to have a lady of refinement and culture with her. I am sure, dear cousin, that you can give me some good advice as to her education, as soon as you have become acquainted with her.”
“I should like to know whom she resembles,” said Miss Dorner; “she does not seem to resemble either you or your late wife.”
“Do you think so?” replied the father quickly. “Do you really think so? The child certainly does not need to resemble me, but I have always hoped that she resembled her ​mother. I always hoped that this would increase with the years and that she would grow up to be my wife’s image. Do you not think that she has Cornelia’s eyes? I think that my child’s rather straggly mane will in time resemble my Cornelia’s beautiful brown hair; the child’s hair is very thick and has just the same color.”
The Director looked imploringly at his cousin. He seemed anxious for her to agree with him.
Shrugging her shoulders, she replied: “I certainly see no resemblance between the tousled looking small savage and Cornelia. The latter always was so lovely in her exquisite neatness. Her eyes always glowed with happiness and seemed to smile at one from under her beautiful, wavy brown hair. I am sorry to tell you that your child is not exactly engaging; she resembles a wild and furious little kitten with bristling hair. She seems to me to be always making a round back; she looks as if she wanted to jump at one and scratch.”
“No, no, she does not do that,” the Director assured. “The child is not in the least ill​natured, at least, I do not think so. But I am afraid that you are right in saying that she does not resemble her mother in the least. Her education, I mean her lack of education, may have something to do with it. That is why I am so grateful to you both for coming here. I am sure that with your influence the child will change and gain much, and I do not think that it will be hard for Cornelli to learn.
“I can travel now with a light heart, cousin, for I know that I can leave my child, the house and the servants in your care. You do not know in what a difficult position I am sometimes. I ought to go away frequently, and am not able to do so because there is nobody to take care of the house for me. The servants have to be kept in good humor, and the house has to be ruled with authority and judgment. I cannot thank you enough for making this trip possible for me.”
When they had returned from their walk they separated. Mr. Hellmut had still plenty of preparations to make for his journey, and the ladies retired to their rooms to get settled there. At supper everybody met again. The ​ladies and their host appeared punctually and dinner was served at once.
“Where is your daughter? Does she not come to supper, too?” asked Miss Dorner.
“Yes, of course. Do you know where she is, Miss Mina?” the father asked.
At that moment the door opened and Cornelli, with cheeks aglow, ran into the room. She sat down quickly at her seat.
“Did you creep through a hedge?” the cousin asked her.
“No, I was in the hen house,” replied Cornelli.
“That is no reason to look the way you do. Go to your room first and have your hair combed by Miss Mina. She will also give you some soap, for this is quite necessary.”
Cornelli glanced at her father. This was something new and she waited for his approval.
​The latter wanted to follow the child, but Cornelli called back: “I can do it myself.”
When the child came back her face and hands were washed very thoroughly, but her hair looked most peculiar. She had combed it in such a way that one could not tell what belonged to the left and what to the right side, what to the front and what to the back.
The cousin laughed and said: “Your head looks like a wind-blown hay field. To-morrow Miss Mina will part your hair properly for you.”
Cornelli frowned so deeply that her eyes came quite close together. She did not look up any more from her plate.
Next day quite early the Director departed.
The village of Iller-Stream, where the church and the school house were, was quite a distance from the iron works. Cornelli could not go to school there every day because it was much too far. She therefore had lessons at home, and the teacher her father had chosen came every morning and taught her in all the necessary subjects. In the afternoon she was free, except for the work which she had to do ​for the following day. That took little time and till now the child had really had a very free existence. She had always found time for a daily visit to Martha and a long conversation with her old friend. She could also wander freely about the lovely beech wood and along the mountain side. Her time was never parcelled out for her.
There were many wonderful things to find in the fields and woods, and Cornelli never tired of them as long as the sun was shining. If rain or snow prevented her from her strolls, she spent her afternoons in Martha’s cosy chamber. There she had the most pleasant times, for the old woman’s conversation and tales were for Cornelli a never ending source of enjoyment.
​The two were the best of friends and the teacher knew his pupil well. Whenever she was very bright and lively, he would work very hard with her and in a short time accomplish three times more than usual. In order not to spoil their mutual pleasure he would let her off most punctually. But whenever Cornelli was absent-minded and unwilling to work, he progressed slowly and carefully, treating her as if she were the least bit weak minded.
He would keep up this procedure till the hand of the clock showed a quarter, a half, or even three-quarters of an hour more than the set time for the lessons. Then Cornelli had hardly more than a quarter of an hour’s time before lunch to run over to the garden, the stable and the hen house, something she always planned to do. The teacher would finally stop and say in his most friendly manner: “I had to stay so long to-day because we did not do half of what we should have done. You were a little slow in understanding, Cornelli. I hope it will go better to-morrow, otherwise your lesson might last still longer.”
It always went much better after that, for ​Cornelli had no inclination whatever to have such a tiresome performance repeated. After such a lesson many days went by before she was lazy again. To-day Cornelli had worked quickly and well, for she wanted to have lots of free time before lunch. She had not had time to see the little kid since yesterday. The lesson over, she flew to the stable. Lunch was set for one o’clock, so there was a whole hour left. Matthew spied the approaching child and called to her: “Come here, Cornelli! It is just jumping around.”
Cornelli ran into the stable, where she saw the snow-white kid, hopping merrily over to its mother and then back again to the hay. It looked so cunning in its gambols that Cornelli went into perfect raptures.
SHE SOON RETURNED WITH A BRIGHT RED RIBBON WHICH SHE TIED ABOUT THE LITTLE KID’S NECK
​never in her life seen a prettier object than the little creature with its snow-white fur and the red ribbon round its neck, skipping lightly about. The next moment it lay down in the hay and looked up happily at Cornelli.
“Can I take it out for a walk, Matthew? Can I harness it to a little wagon and drive around with it?” asked the child. She had many plans in her head, one following on top of the other.
“Wait, wait; we have to let it grow first,” replied Matthew thoughtfully. “The most important thing for it is to grow, for it is like a baby that has just learned how to walk. It has to stay near its mother and can only run about near her. When it is bigger, it can take walks, and when it is strong and big we can harness it and you can drive it about with two reins in one hand and a long whip in the other.”
Cornelli shouted with joy and patted the kid with new tenderness. She already pictured to herself the lovely drives that they would have together.
“Did you hear the bell in the foundry? I am sure it must be time for dinner. You will ​have to be a little careful now, Cornelli. Remember that strange ladies are in the house,” said old Matthew with foresight. “You can come again this afternoon.”
Cornelli had really heard nothing, for she had been absorbed in her new pet. She knew that she ought to appear punctually at her meals, so she left right away. She had also noticed that the ladies were not buried behind big newspapers, like her father. While running to the house, she passed a hydrant. There she remembered that she had to wash her hands, so she held them both under the pipe and rubbed them hard. Then dipping her face in, she rubbed it, too. She had nothing to dry herself with except a very small handkerchief.
“Hurry up! The ladies are already at table,” she heard Esther’s voice urging her from the kitchen window.
Cornelli ran in and saw both ladies already seated at the table. In front of her was a full soup plate.
“You have to come punctually to your meals. I am sure that you can hear the loud bell out in the garden,” said the cousin. “But ​how strange you look! Half wet arms, a soaking apron and damp feet. Have you been in the water, or what have you done?”
“I washed my hands under the water pump and I got splashed,” Cornelli answered.
“Naturally,” remarked Miss Dorner. “There are arrangements in the rooms for washing hands, which involve no splashing. Go, now, and put on another apron. You have to be orderly and neat at mealtimes.”
Cornelli departed.
“The child certainly obeys you—that is something,” said Miss Grideelen. “Since you told her to, she always comes to table properly washed.”
“That is true. But she has the most unheard-of manners,” replied Miss Dorner. “How shall one get rid of those and start the child on the right path? I must ask you to help her in the morning, Miss Mina. Please comb her hair smoothly and part it the way I told you to.”
“I did it, Miss Dorner, and I do it every morning,” she answered, quite hurt. "Cornelli’s hair is just like bristles and it is very ​hard to braid. When she jumps it all gets tangled again and she jumps every moment.”
Cornelli now came back and ate her soup. Her seat was beside her cousin and faced the other lady.
“What is sticking to your dress here?” asked Miss Dorner, looking with disgust at the little skirt. Something was really hanging from the bottom. “Can this be hay or straw? It certainly does not look orderly. I hope you have not come from the stable!”
“Yes, I have,” replied Cornelli.
“How horrid! Indeed, I can even smell it. That is too much!” she exclaimed. “I am sure your father would not let you go there if he knew about it.”
“Oh, certainly; he goes himself,” Cornelli retorted.
“Do not reply impertinently. In the case of your father it is quite different,” explained Miss Dorner. “I want to tell you something which you must remember. If you are allowed go to the stable and you enjoy doing it, you can go. But when afterwards you come to your meals, you must first go to your room. ​Get properly washed there and also change your dress. Be sure not to forget."
“Yes," replied Cornelli.
“It is very strange what queer pleasures country children have,” remarked Miss Grideelen. “Have you no books, Cornelli? Don’t you like reading better than wandering around and going to the stable?”
“Oh no, I don’t like it better, but I have some books,” replied the child.
“What are you going to do in the afternoon, when you have no more lessons to study?” asked Miss Dorner.
“I always go to Martha,” was the reply.
“Who is Martha?” inquired the cousin.
“A woman,” said Cornelli.
“I can guess that,” replied the cousin. "But what kind of a woman is she?”
“A good one,” answered Cornelli quickly.
“What an answer!” The cousin turned now to Miss Mina: “Who is this woman? Can the child go to see her? Does anybody here know about her?” she questioned.
“Oh yes, she is well known here and was here long before I came,” was Mina’s reply. ​“She nursed the mistress of this house in her last illness. She is a very good woman and always looks neat and clean. Our master likes her well.”
“Now I have really found out something! You must learn to give proper answers, Cornelli, do you hear?” said the cousin. “You are like a wild hare which does everything in leaps and bounds. You can go to see the woman after finishing your work for your teacher. I am sure you must have some to do for to-morrow.”
Cornelli assented to this, and as soon as the ladies had left the room to retire to their bedrooms for the hottest hours of the day, she sat down at her little table in the corner. Here she wrote down a page with lightning speed, then taking up her book she read her lesson over and over again till she knew it by heart. Soon she was finished, and flinging the books into the drawer, she ran out of the house.
“Oh, Martha, I wish you knew how terrible it is at home now since Papa has gone,” called Cornelli to her old friend, before she had even reached the top of the stairs. “I just wish ​Papa was back already and everything was again as before.”
“What is it, Cornelli, what makes you so cross? Come, sit down here a while and tell me about it,” said Martha kindly. She put a chair beside her own at the table where her mending lay neatly sorted out.
“Of course, you can’t understand it, Martha,” Cornelli continued, just as excited as before. “Here with you everything is always the same and nobody comes and orders everything to be changed. Now, I am not allowed to come in any more without getting washed; now, I cannot come out of the stable without changing my clothes. Then I must not wash my hands at the hydrant because I get splashed, and, oh, so many new things have to be done; so different from before.”
“I am sure, Cornelli, that it is not at all bad that things should not always be the way they were before,” asid Martha reflectively. “I believe that the lady who is related to you wants the same thing from you that your mother would have wished had she lived. This is very good for you. Of course, Miss Mina ​and Esther mean well, but your relation knows much better what is to be done to make you grow up the way your mother would have desired. Just think how happy your father would be if you should resemble your mother and he be reminded of her every time he looked at you. You well know what great joy that would be to him.”
Cornelli did know that her father would be very happy then, for he had made many remarks which she had understood. A short time ago he had said that his cousin found no likeness between his child and her mother, and Cornelli had observed the sad expression of his eyes when he had said it.
Cornelli shook her head. “You said once that my mother was different from anybody,” she said. “So I can’t ever be like her; you said so yourself, Martha.”
“Yes, yes, I have said that,” confirmed Martha. “But I have to explain something to you, Cornelli. If you can’t become exactly like your mother, you certainly can become more like her than anybody else, for you are her child, and a child always has something ​from her mother. I have seen you look at me just the way she did, with the same brown eyes; but not when you frown the way you do to-day. You must try to watch the two ladies very carefully in all they do and in the way they speak. They are your mother’s kind, and that is why I am so glad that you can watch their manners and can try to imitate them. You can learn to resemble your mother in your ways, if you copy the ladies.”
“Yes, I shall do that,” agreed Cornelli. “Just the same, I am not terribly pleased that they are here and that everything has to be changed. Oh dear, I have just remembered that I have to be back now and drink some hot coffee and milk, because Miss Dorner says that the afternoons are so frightfully long in the country they have to be interrupted. At that time I always used to get from the garden some apples or cherries or whatever else there was, and they always tasted so awfully good. If I only could lengthen my afternoon, which seems too long to them! I never can do all I plan to do. Good-bye, Martha.”
And with these words Cornelli ran away.
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