Books: Heidi

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20

Then Heidi in despair flung herself down on Clara's couch and
broke into a wild fit of weeping, her crying becoming louder and
more full of distress, every minute, while she kept on sobbing
out at intervals, "Now grandmother's' bread is all gone! They
were all for grandmother, and now they are taken away, and
grandmother won't have one," and she wept as if her heart would
break. Fraulein Rottenmeier ran out of the room. Clara was
distressed and alarmed at the child's crying. "Heidi, Heidi,"
she said imploringly, "pray do not cry so! listen to me; don't be
so unhappy; look now, I promise you that you shall have just as
many rolls, or more, all fresh and new to take to grandmother
when you go home; yours would have been hard and stale by then.
Come, Heidi, do not cry any more!"

Heidi could not get over her sobs for a long time; she would
never have been able to leave off crying at all if it had not
been for Clara's promise, which comforted her. But to make sure
that she could depend upon it she kept on saying to Clara, her
voice broken with her gradually subsiding sobs, "Will you give
me as many, quite as many, as I had, for grandmother?" And Clara
assured her each time that she would give her as many, "or
more," she added, "only be happy again."

Heidi appeared at supper with her eyes red with weeping, and
when she saw her roll she could not suppress a sob. But she made
an effort to control herself, for she knew she must sit quietly
at table. Whenever Sebastian could catch her eye this evening he
made all sorts of strange signs, pointing to his own head and
then to hers, and giving little nods as much as to say, "Don't
you be unhappy! I have got it all safe for you."

When Heidi was going to get into bed that night she found her
old straw hat lying under the counterpane. She snatched it up
with delight, made it more out of shape still in her joy, and
then, after wrapping a handkerchief round it, she stuck it in a
corner of the cupboard as far back as she could.

It was Sebastian who had hidden it there for her; he had been in
the dining-room when Tinette was called, and had heard all that
went on with the child and the latter's loud weeping. So he
followed Tinette, and when she came out of Heidi's room carrying
the rolls and the hat, he caught up the hat and said, "I will
see to this old thing." He was genuinely glad to have been able
to save it for Heidi, and that was the meaning of his encouraging
signs to her at supper.

CHAPTER IX. HERR SESEMANN HEARS OF THINGS WHICH ARE NEW TO HIM

A few days after these events there was great commotion and much
running up and down stairs in Herr Sesemann's house. The master
had just returned, and Sebastian and Tinette were busy carrying
up one package after another from the carriage, for Herr
Sesemann always brought back a lot of pretty things for his home.
He himself had not waited to do anything before going in to see
his daughter. Heidi was sitting beside her, for it was late
afternoon, when the two were always together. Father and
daughter greeted each other with warm affection, for they were
deeply attached to one another. Then he held out his hand to
Heidi, who had stolen away into the corner, and said kindly to
her, "And this is our little Swiss girl; come and shake hands
with me! That's right! Now, tell me, are Clara and you good
friends with one another, or do you get angry and quarrel, and
then cry and make it up, and then start quarreling again on the
next occasion?"

"No, Clara is always kind to me," answered Heidi.

"And Heidi," put in Clara quickly, "has not once tried to
quarrel."

"That's all right, I am glad to hear it," said her father, as he
rose from his chair. "But you must excuse me, Clara, for I want
my dinner; I have had nothing to eat all day. Afterwards I will
show you all the things I have brought home with me."

He found Fraulein Rottenmeier in the dining-room superintending
the preparation for his meal, and when he had taken his place
she sat down opposite to him, looking the every embodiment of bad
news, so that he turned to her and said, "What am I to expect,
Fraulein Rottenmeier? You greet me with an expression of
countenance that quite frightens me. What is the matter? Clara
seems cheerful enough."

"Herr Sesemann," began the lady in a solemn voice, "it is a
matter which concerns Clara; we have been frightfully imposed
upon."

"Indeed, in what way?" asked Herr Sesemann as he went on calmly
drinking his wine.

"We had decided, as you remember, to get a companion for Clara,
and as I knew how anxious you were to have only those who were
well-behaved and nicely brought up about her, I thought I would
look for a little Swiss girl, as I hoped to find such a one as I
have often read about, who, born as it were of the mountain air,
lives and moves without touching the earth."

"Still I think even a Swiss child would have to touch the earth
if she wanted to go anywhere," remarked Herr Sesemann,
"otherwise they would have been given wings instead of feet."

"Ah, Herr Sesemann, you know what I mean," continued Fraulein
Rottenmeier. "I mean one so at home among the living creatures
of the high, pure mountain regions, that she would be like some
idealistic being from another world among us."

"And what could Clara do with such an idealistic being as you
describe, Fraulein Rottenmeier."

"I am not joking, Herr Sesemann, the matter is a more serious
one than you think; I have been shockingly, disgracefully imposed
upon."

"But how? what is there shocking and disgraceful? I see nothing
shocking in the child," remarked Herr Sesemann quietly.

"If you only knew of one thing she has done, if you only knew of
the kind of people and animals she has brought into the house
during your absence! The tutor can tell you more about that."

"Animals? what am I to understand by animals, Fraulein
Rottenmeier?"

"It is past understanding; the whole behavior of the child would
be past understanding, if it were not that at times she is
evidently not in her right mind."

Herr Sesemann had attached very little importance to what was
told him up till now--but not in her right mind! that was more
serious and might be prejudicial to his own child. Herr Sesemann
looked very narrowly at the lady opposite to assure himself that
the mental aberration was not on her side. At that moment the
door opened and the tutor was announced.

"Ah! here is some one," exclaimed Herr Sesemann, "who will help
to clear up matters for me. Take a seat," he continued, as he
held out his hand to the tutor. "You will drink a cup of coffee
with me--no ceremony, I pray! And now tell me, what is the
matter with this child that has come to be a companion to my
daughter? What is this strange thing I hear about her bringing
animals into the house, and is she in her right senses?"

The tutor felt he must begin with expressing his pleasure at
Herr Sesemann's return, and with explaining that he had come in
on purpose to give him welcome, but Herr Sesemann begged him to
explain without delay the meaning of all he had heard about
Heidi. The tutor started in his usual style. "If I must give my
opinion about this little girl, I should like first to state
that, if on one side, there is a lack of development which has
been caused by the more or less careless way in which she has
been brought up, or rather, by the neglect of her education,
when young, and by the solitary life she has led on the mountain,
which is not wholly to be condemned; on the contrary, such a
life has undoubtedly some advantages in it, if not allowed to
overstep a certain limit of time--"

"My good friend," interrupted Herr Sesemann, "you are giving
yourself more trouble than you need. I only want to know if the
child has caused you alarm by any animals she has brought into
the house, and what your opinion is altogether as to her being a
fit companion or not for my daughter?"

"I should not like in any way to prejudice you against her,"
began the tutor once more; "for if on the one hand there is a
certain inexperience of the ways of society, owing to the
uncivilised life she led up to the time of her removal to
Frankfurt, on the other hand she is endowed with certain good
qualities, and, taken on the whole--"

"Excuse me, my dear sir, do not disturb yourself, but I must--I
think my daughter will be wanting me," and with that Herr
Sesemann quickly left the room and took care not to return. He
sat himself down beside his daughter in the study, and then
turning to Heidi, who had risen, "Little one, will you fetch
me," he began, and then paused, for he could not think what to
ask for, but he wanted to get the child out of the room for a
little while, "fetch me a glass of water."

"Fresh water?" asked Heidi.

"Yes--Yes--as fresh as you can get it," he answered. Heidi
disappeared on the spot.

"And now, my dear little Clara," he said, drawing his chair
nearer and laying her hand in his, "answer my questions clearly
and intelligibly: what kind of animals has your little companion
brought into the house, and why does Fraulein Rottenmeier think
that she is not always in her right mind?"

Clara had no difficulty in answering. The alarmed lady had
spoken to her also about Heidi's wild manner of talking, but
Clara had not been able to put a meaning to it. She told her
father everything about the tortoise and the kittens, and
explained to him what Heidi had said the day Fraulein Rottenmeier
had been put in such a fright. Herr Sesemann laughed heartily at
her recital. "So you do not want me to send the child home
again," he asked, "you are not tired of having her here?"

"Oh, no, no," Clara exclaimed, "please do not send her away.
Time has passed much more quickly since Heidi was here, for
something fresh happens every day, and it used to be so dull, and
she has always so much to tell me."

"That's all right then--and here comes your little friend. Have
you brought me some nice fresh water?" he asked as Heidi handed
him a glass.

"Yes, fresh from the pump," answered Heidi.

"You did not go yourself to the pump?" said Clara.

"Yes I did; it is quite fresh. I had to go a long way, for there
were such a lot of people at the first pump; so I went further
down the street, but there were just as many at the second pump,
but I was able to get some water at the one in the next street,
and the gentleman with the white hair asked me to give his kind
regards to Herr Sesemann."

"You have had quite a successful expedition," said Herr Sesemann
laughing, "and who was the gentleman?"

"He was passing, and when he saw me he stood still and said, 'As
you have a glass will you give me a drink; to whom are you
taking the water?' and when I said, 'To Herr Sesemann,' he
laughed very much, and then he gave me that message for you, and
also said he hoped you would enjoy the water."

"Oh, and who was it, I wonder, who sent me such good wishes--
tell me what he was like," said Herr Sesemann.

"He was kind and laughed, and he had a thick gold chain and a
gold thing hanging from it with a large red stone, and a horse's
head at the top of his stick."

"It's the doctor--my old friend the doctor," exclaimed Clara and
her father at the same moment, and Herr Sesemann smiled to
himself at the thought of what his friend's opinion must have
been of this new way of satisfying his thirst for water.

That evening when Herr Sesemann and Fraulein Rottenmeier were
alone, settling the household affairs, he informed her that he
intended to keep Heidi; he found the child in a perfectly right
state of mind, and his daughter liked her as a companion. "I
desire, therefore," he continued, laying stress upon his words,
"that the child shall be in every way kindly treated, and that
her peculiarities shall not be looked upon as crimes. If you
find her too much for you alone, I can hold out a prospect of
help, for I am shortly expecting my mother here on a long visit,
and she, as you know, can get on with anybody, whatever they may
be like."

"O yes, I know," replied Fraulein Rottenmeier, but there was no
tone of relief in her voice as she thought of the coming help.

Herr Sesemann was only home for a short time; he left for Paris
again before the fortnight was over, comforting Clara, who could
not bear that he should go from her again so soon, with the
prospect of her grandmother's arrival, which was to take place
in a few days' time. Herr Sesemann had indeed only just gone when
a letter came from Frau Sesemann, announcing her arrival on the
following day, and stating the hour when she might be expected,
in order that a carriage should be sent to meet her at the
station. Clara was overjoyed, and talked so much about her
grandmother that evening, that Heidi began also to call her
"grandmamma," which brought down on her a look of displeasure
from Fraulein Rottenmeier; this, however, had no particular
effect on Heidi, for she was accustomed now to being continually
in that lady's black books. But as she was going to her room
that night, Fraulein Rottenmeier waylaid her, and drawing her
into her own, gave her strict injunctions as to how she was to
address Frau Sesemann when she arrived; on no account was she to
call her "grandmamma," but always to say "madam" to her. "Do you
understand?" said the lady, as she saw a perplexed expression on
Heidi's face. The latter had not understood, but seeing the
severe expression of the lady's face she did not ask for more
explanation.

CHAPTER X. ANOTHER GRANDMOTHER

There was much expectation and preparation about the house on
the following evening, and it was easy to see that the lady who
was coming was one whose opinion was highly thought of, and for
whom everybody had a great respect. Tinette had a new white cap
on her head, and Sebastian collected all the footstools he could
find and placed them in convenient spots, so that the lady might
find one ready to her feet whenever she chose to sit. Fraulein
Rottenmeier went about surveying everything, very upright and
dignified, as if to show that though a rival power was expected,
her own authority was not going to be extinguished.

And now the carriage came driving up to the door, and Tinette
and Sebastian ran down the steps, followed with a slower and more
stately step by the lady, who advanced to greet the guest. Heidi
had been sent up to her room and ordered to remain there until
called down, as the grandmother would certainly like to see
Clara alone first. Heidi sat herself down in a corner and
repeated her instructions over to herself. She had not to wait
long before Tinette put her head in and said abruptly, "Go
downstairs into the study."

Heidi had not dared to ask Fraulein Rottenmeier again how she
was to address the grandmother: she thought the lady had perhaps
made a mistake, for she had never heard any one called by other
than their right name. As she opened the study door she heard a
kind voice say, "Ah, here comes the child! Come along in and let
me have a good look at you."

Heidi walked up to her and said very distinctly in her clear
voice, "Good-evening," and then wishing to follow her
instructions called her what would be in English "Mrs. Madam."

"Well!" said the grandmother, laughing, "is that how they
address people in your home on the mountain?"

"No," replied Heidi gravely, "I never knew any one with that
name before."

"Nor I either," laughed the grandmother again as she patted
Heidi's cheek. "Never mind! when I am with the children I am
always grandmamma; you won't forget that name, will you?"

"No, no," Heidi assured her, "I often used to say it at home."

"I understand," said the grandmother, with a cheerful little nod
of the head. Then she looked more closely at Heidi, giving
another nod from time to time, and the child looked back at her
with steady, serious eyes, for there was something kind and warm-
hearted about this new-comer that pleased Heidi, and indeed
everything to do with the grandmother attracted her, so that she
could not turn her eyes away. She had such beautiful white hair,
and two long lace ends hung down from the cap on her head and
waved gently about her face every time she moved, as if a soft
breeze were blowing round her, which gave Heidi a peculiar
feeling of pleasure.

"And what is your name, child?" the grandmother now asked.

"I am always called Heidi; but as I am now to be called
Adelaide, I will try and take care--" Heidi stopped short, for
she felt a little guilty; she had not yet grown accustomed to
this name; she continued not to respond when Fraulein Rottenmeier
suddenly addressed her by it, and the lady was at this moment
entering the room.

"Frau Sesemann will no doubt agree with me," she interrupted,
"that it was necessary to choose a name that could be pronounced
easily, if only for the sake of the servants."

"My worthy Rottenmeier," replied Frau Sesemann, "if a person is
called 'Heidi' and has grown accustomed to that name, I call her
by the same, and so let it be."

Fraulein Rottenmeier was always very much annoyed that the old
lady continually addressed her by her surname only; but it was
no use minding, for the grandmother always went her own way, and
so there was no help for it. Moreover the grandmother was a keen
old lady, and had all her five wits about her, and she knew what
was going on in the house as soon as she entered it.

When on the following day Clara lay down as usual on her couch
after dinner, the grandmother sat down beside her for a few
minutes and closed her eyes, then she got up again as lively as
ever, and trotted off into the dining-room. No one was there.
"She is asleep, I suppose," she said to herself, and then going
up to Fraulein Rottenmeier's room she gave a loud knock at the
door. She waited a few minutes and then Fraulein Rottenmeier
opened the door and drew back in surprise at this unexpected
visit.

"Where is the child, and what is she doing all this time? That
is what I came to ask," said Frau Sesemann.

"She is sitting in her room, where she could well employ herself
if she had the least idea of making herself useful; but you have
no idea, Frau Sesemann, of the out-of-the-way things this child
imagines and does, things which I could hardly repeat in good
society."

"I should do the same if I had to sit in there like that child,
I can tell you; I doubt if you would then like to repeat what I
did, in good society! Go and fetch the child and bring her to my
room; I have some pretty books with me that I should like to
give her."

"That is just the misfortune," said Fraulein Rottenmeier with a
despairing gesture, "what use are books to her? She has not been
able to learn her A B C even, all the long time she has been
here; it is quite impossible to get the least idea of it into
her head, and that the tutor himself will tell you; if he had not
the patience of an angel he would have given up teaching her long
ago."

"That is very strange," said Frau Sesemann, "she does not look
to me like a child who would be unable to learn her alphabet.
However, bring her now to me, she can at least amuse herself
with the pictures in the books."

Fraulein Rottenmeier was prepared with some further remarks, but
the grandmother had turned away and gone quickly towards her own
room. She was surprised at what she had been told about Heidi's
incapacity for learning, and determined to find out more
concerning this matter, not by inquiries from the tutor,
however, although she esteemed him highly for his uprightness of
character; she had always a friendly greeting for him, but
always avoided being drawn into conversation with him, for she
found his style of talk somewhat wearisome.

Heidi now appeared and gazed with open-eyed delight and wonder
at the beautiful colored pictures in the books which the
grandmother gave her to look at. All of a sudden, as the latter
turned over one of the pages to a fresh picture, the child gave a
cry. For a moment or two she looked at it with brightening eyes,
then the tears began to fall, and at last she burst into sobs.
The grandmother looked at the picture--it represented a green
pasture, full of young animals, some grazing and others nibbling
at the shrubs. In the middle was a shepherd leaning upon his
staff and looking on at his happy flock. The whole scene was
bathed in golden light, for the sun was just sinking below the
horizon.

The grandmother laid her hand kindly On Heidi's.

"Don't cry, dear child, don't cry," she said, "the picture has
reminded you perhaps of something. But see, there is a beautiful
tale to the picture which I will tell you this evening. And
there are other nice tales of all kinds to read and to tell
again. But now we must have a little talk together, so dry your
tears and come and stand in front of me, so that I may see you
well--there, now we are happy again."

But it was some little time before Heidi could overcome her
sobs. The grandmother gave her time to recover herself, saying
cheering words to her now and then, "There, it's all right now,
and we are quite happy again."

When at last she saw that Heidi was growing calmer, she said,
"Now I want you to tell me something. How are you getting on in
your school-time; do you like your lessons, and have you learnt
a great deal?"

"O no!" replied Heidi, sighing, "but I knew beforehand that it
was not possible to learn."

"What is it you think impossible to learn?"

"Why, to read, it is too difficult."

"You don't say so! and who told you that?"

"Peter told me, and he knew all about it, for he had tried and
tried and could not learn it."

"Peter must be a very odd boy then! But listen, Heidi, we must
not always go by what Peter says, we must try for ourselves. I
am certain that you did not give all your attention to the tutor
when he was trying to teach you your letters."

"It's of no use," said Heidi in the tone of one who was ready to
endure what could not be cured.

"Listen to what I have to say," continued the grandmother. "You
have not been able to learn your alphabet because you believed
what Peter said; but now you must believe what I tell you--and I
tell you that you can learn to read in a very little while, as
many other children do, who are made like you and not like
Peter. And now hear what comes after--you see that picture with
the shepherd and the animals--well, as soon as you are able to
read you shall have that book for your own, and then you will
know all about the sheep and the goats, and what the shepherd
did, and the wonderful things that happened to him, just as if
some one were telling you the whole tale. You will like to hear
about all that, won't you?"

Heidi had listened with eager attention to the grandmother's
words and now with a sigh exclaimed, "Oh, if only I could read
now!"

"It won't take you long now to learn, that I can see; and now we
must go down to Clara; bring the books with you." And hand in
hand the two returned to the study.

Since the day when Heidi had so longed to go home, and Fraulein
Rottenmeier had met her and scolded her on the steps, and told
her how wicked and ungrateful she was to try and run away, and
what a good thing it was that Herr Sesemann knew nothing about
it, a change had come over the child. She had at last understood
that day that she could not go home when she wished as Dete had
told her, but that she would have to stay on in Frankfurt for a
long, long time, perhaps for ever. She had also understood that
Herr Sesemann would think it ungrateful of her if she wished to
leave, and she believed that the grandmother and Clara would
think the same. So there was nobody to whom she dared confide
her longing to go home, for she would not for the world have
given the grandmother, who was so kind to her, any reason for
being as angry with her as Fraulein Rottenmeier had been. But the
weight of trouble on the little heart grew heavier and heavier;
she could no longer eat her food, and every day she grew a little
paler. She lay awake for long hours at night, for as soon as she
was alone and everything was still around her, the picture of
the mountain with its sunshine and flowers rose vividly before
her eyes; and when at last she fell asleep it was to dream of the
rocks and the snow-field turning crimson in the evening light,
and waking in the morning she would think herself back at the
hut and prepare to run joyfully out into--the sun--and then--
there was her large bed, and here she was in Frankfurt far, far
away from home. And Heidi would often lay her face down on the
pillow and weep long and quietly so that no one might hear her.

Heidi's unhappiness did not escape the grandmother's notice. She
let some days go by to see if the child grew brighter and lost
her down-cast appearance. But as matters did not mend, and she
saw that many mornings Heidi had evidently been crying before
she came downstairs, she took her again into her room one day,
and drawing the child to her said, "Now tell me, Heidi, what is
the matter; are you in trouble?"

But Heidi, afraid if she told the truth that the grandmother
would think her ungrateful, and would then leave off being so
kind to her, answered, "can't tell you."

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20