“Do you know, Salo,” said Bruno while they continued their walk, “I should love to do what your uncle did.  I want to go away from here and disappear for a long time.  Then I would not be obliged to be fettered to those two horrid boys.  I can’t stand it, and you now know yourself what they are like.”

Bruno had described his two comrades to his new friend, their mean attitude and their frequent and contemptible tricks.  Salo had repeatedly shown his feeling by sudden exclamations and he said now with comforting sympathy, “I am sure it must make you feel like running away if you are obliged to spend all your days with two such boys.  But don’t listen to them, pay no attention to them, and let them do and say what they please.  If they want to be mean, let them be, for they can’t make you different.”

“Oh, if you could be with me, that would be much easier,” Bruno said.  “I should know then that you felt with me and shared my anger.  When I am compelled to be alone with them and they do sneaky acts to people who can’t defend themselves, I always get so mad that I have to beat them.  That always brings nasty talk and makes my mother unhappy, and then I feel worse than ever.  If only I could go far away and never have to meet them any more!”

“If you had an idea what it is like not to have any home at all, you would not wish to leave yours without even knowing where to go,” said Salo.  “You would not think that anything was too hard to bear if you could go home and tell your mother all about it.  If you have that consolation, it should make you able to stand a lot of trouble.  I shouldn’t mind living with those two during school term, if I could go to a place during the holidays that were a real home for me and Leonore.  Every time I come to her she cries about having no home in the whole wide world.  I try to think out something so that we won’t have to wait so long before we can live together.  But that is hard to carry out, for the gentleman in Holstein who decides about our upbringing wants me to study for many years.  That will take much too long.  Leonore might even die before that, and I want to do it all for her.  I am so glad now that Leonore has fallen ill and has therefore come to you,” he said with a brighter glance.  “I wish she would stay sick for a while—­of course not awfully sick,” he corrected himself rapidly, “I mean just sick enough so that your mother would not let her go.  I know quite well how happy Leonore will be with her.  She was so kind and friendly with us right away.  Since our old aunt died nobody has been so good and sweet with us as your mother and that will do more good to Leonore than anything else on earth.”