Evening star., 1925-05-31
Continued from Yesterdays Star)

Trudchen couldn't be really un-
happy, because she felt that for the
first time her poor. lonely. little
mother was among friends, at peace.
On the day of the funeral there
came a letter from England. Trud-
chen. VINO had learned English from
her mother, could just read it. II was
very stiff and clear. 1t said that of
course, since her German relations
would have nothing to do with her,
it was necessary that Trudchen
should come to England. There was
money inclosed. And would whoever
was looking after Trudchen let her
grandfather, Sir Ambrose Hampden,
know when and where to expect her.
Although 1t was such simple mat
er-of-fact letter, any one could have
told that the writer was very bitter
and unhappy about something and
didn't want Trudchen in the least.
The night before Trudchen left for
England she and Frau Hildebrandt
had a long talk about it all. Trudchen
sat very straight and stiff at Frau
Hildebrandt's table and looked
through her new glasses with dry eyes.
Although she was so small and poor
looking physically, she had always
been top of her class, and she could
tnlIlk tnlIlBS out anu ullueTSSdhu. Anu
she wanted to understand.
Frau Hildebrandt had been servant
to Hauptmann Won Arnstein- -Prutwitz
and his young English wife when they
had first married. So she knew every
thing. She told Trudchen how happy
every one had been. One particular
Christmas she could remember. There
had been a sort of gathering OF the
clans The -PrutwitZ (auf
und zu und von) had come, and the
Hampdens had come, and there had
been tremendous publications., with
toasting, drinking and Joking about
Der Tag"
Der Tag" was to be Trudchen' 8
first birthday. But before Der Tag"
came they were all killing one an
other.
At first, the war hadn't seemed to
| matter so much. They wrote to one
another through a neutral country.
and that it shouldn't make any diff
| ference to individuals. Then the
Hampdens only son was killed
murdered, so far father wrote-and
then one by one the Prutwitz family
was wiped out, and a great, i'm
placable bitterness spread like an
ulcer. And when the young English
wife wrote home, she defended her
| new countrymen and accused her own
! people, and when the old Prutwitzes
| came, she quarreled with them, so that
, they never came again. She fought
| every one-poor, exiled, uprooted little
! woman, breaking her heart, until at
| last she had no one in the world but
| Trudchen and her husband. For him,
| too, there was no joy left. People
| said he was glad of that final bullet.
All this Frau Hildebrandt told in
| her own way, mopping up the last
! drop of her ersatz-kaffee with the
last fragment OF a wiebach. And
Trudchen watched her and thought
earnestly. trying to make everything
clear to herself.
But am really English" she
I asked.
Frau Hildebrandt opened her eyes
wide in horror. "Gott bewahre! What
puts such a dreadful thought in that
! silly head?"
But must be--just little
"Na-just a little, perhaps"
And that's why every one hates
me-"
"Ach, Kindchen. it's a bad, queer
| world. We poor Germans-we'v SUI,
fered. The English couldn't rest un.
til they had ruined US. God knows we
are kind and easygoing. But when
one is hungry it is difficult to for
give"
Are all the English bad, Frau
Hildebrandt?'
J Frau Hildebrandt fidgeted. She was
! n truthful woman. IT went against
| children. We'll, God made them