“It was just as necessary to hear Bruno’s question,” the sister said.  “I knew that Lippo was in good hands.  I thought naturally that you would be able to say the right word to him.  You know yourself how he respects you.”

“Oh, yes, that is right,” Uncle Philip admitted.  “It is not always easy to say the right word to a little fellow who has the right on his side and needs to have the other side shown to him, too; he is terribly pedantic besides, and says that one can’t sing a morning song in the evening, and when he began to wail in his helplessness, it made me miserable.  How should one always just be able to say the right word?”

His sister smiled.

“Do you admit now, Philip, that bringing up children is not a very simple matter?”

“There is a truth in what you say.  On the other hand, it does not look very terrible, either,” the brother said with a glance at Maezli, who was quietly and peacefully sitting at the table, eating her bread and milk in the most orderly fashion.

She had been compelled to stop in the middle of breakfast by the excitement caused by Lippo.  It had been very thrilling, but now she could calmly finish.

Uncle Philip suddenly discovered that the tune set for his departure was already past.  Taking a rapid leave of his sister, he started to rush off, but she held him for a moment.

“Please, Philip, try to find out for me about the little girl, to whom she belongs, and with whom she is travelling,” she begged him eagerly.  “Please do that for me!  If your supposition, that she is Leonore’s child is right, I simply must see her.  Nobody can prevent me from seeing her once at least.”

“We’ll see, we’ll see,” the brother answered hurriedly, and was gone the next moment.

The day had started with so much agitation and it had all taken so much time that Mrs. Maxa had her hands full now in order to complete the most necessary tasks before the children came back from school.

Maezli was very obedient to-day and had settled down on her little chair.  She was virtuously knitting on a white rag, which was to receive a bright red border and was destined to dust Uncle Philip’s desk.  It was to be presented to him on his next birthday as a great surprise.  Maezli had in her head this and many other thoughts caused by the morning’s scene, so she did not feel the same inclination to set out on trips of discovery as usual, and remained quietly sitting on her chair.  Her mother was extremely preoccupied, as could easily be seen.  Her thoughts had nothing to do with either the laundry or the orders she was giving to Kathy, nor the cooking apples she had sorted out in the cellar.  Her hand often lay immovably on these, while she absently looked in front of her.  Her thoughts were up in the castle-garden with the lovely young Leonore, and in her imagination she was wandering about with her beloved friend, singing and chattering under the sounding pine trees.