Uncle Titus and His Visit to the Country Part 15

"No, dear child, we will all stay here together," said his mother, turning towards the children with Dora's hand fast in hers; "Dora is the Lili you were to seek, and we have found her."

"Oh, mamma," cried Paula, "Dora and I will be what you and her mother were; we will carry out the verses. We will say:

"'But we still will hope forever Now the halves have come together No farther losses to deplore, Our friends.h.i.+p prove as yours before.'"

"Oh yes, and ours," "me too," "so will I," and all the children joined in promising eternal friends.h.i.+p with Dora. But the mother had taken her husband's hand and had drawn him away down the shady walk.

"All right, I agree to it all," said Mr. Birkenfeld over and over again, as his wife talked eagerly, while they walked back and forth. Presently Mrs. Birkenfeld left him and crossed over to the next house. She asked for Mrs. Ehrenreich, and now as they sat together by the window, she told Aunt Ninette in words that came from her heart, with what delight she had discovered that Dora was the daughter of her earliest and dearest friend; that friend from whom she had been so long separated, but whose memory was still green in her heart. She wanted to learn all that could be told of her friend's life and death, but Aunt Ninette had little to tell. She had never known Dora's mother; her brother had spent several years in America where he had married, and his wife had died in Hamburg shortly after Dora's birth. That was all she knew. Then Mrs. Birkenfeld went directly to the point. She explained to Mrs. Ehrenreich how much she had enjoyed and profited by, her long visits at her friend's father's house, and how deeply she felt that she owed these kind friends a debt of grat.i.tude which she now saw an opportunity partly to repay, by doing what she could for Dora. In short, if Aunt Ninette and her husband would consent, her most fervent wish would be to take Dora and bring her up as her own child.

She met with none of the opposition which she had feared. Aunt Ninette said frankly that Dora had not a cent of property, and that she would be entirely dependent on her own work as a seamstress; as neither her aunt nor her uncle could afford to spend anything on her farther education. She considered it a great blessing that the child should have found such a friend, and she heartily rejoiced in her good fortune; and was sure that her husband would fully agree with her. So there was nothing farther for Mrs. Birkenfeld to do, but to embrace Mrs. Ehrenreich most cordially, and then to hasten home to tell the children the happy news. She knew how they would take it.

There they were all under the apple-tree, all looking towards their mother and impatient for what she might have to tell them; hoping that it might be some plan for prolonging Dora's stay. But when the mother told them that from that day forward Dora was to belong to them, forever, as their sister and a child of the family, then a shout of joy arose that made the welkin ring again and awoke the echoes in the farthest corner of the garden. It aroused Uncle t.i.tus and brought him from his distant summer-house with a gentle smile, saying half to himself and half aloud,

"It is a pity it will soon be over."

Aunt Ninette was standing at an open window, looking down into the garden, and as she heard the shouts of joy that rose again and again from under the apple-tree, she said to herself, smiling "How we shall miss all this cheerful noise when we are far away."

The children were indeed jubilant, and they decided to organize a feast in honor of Uncle t.i.tus and Aunt Ninette, a feast more brilliant than any that had ever before made the shades of the garden glow with splendor.

That night Dora went up to her little room for the last time, for the next morning she was to move over to the other house. The happy family of children whom she had secretly watched with longing heart, were now to be her brothers and sisters; the lovely garden into which she had gazed with hopeless eyes was henceforth to be her home; she was to have parents who would surround her always with their protecting love. She was to learn what the others learned; yes, to have regular studies with them, as well as music-lessons. Dora's heart was flooded with the thoughts that welled up within her. One thing she was sure of; that her father was looking down at her, and rejoicing with her. She stood at the window and gazed up at the sparkling stars, and recalled the sad hours of depression that she had known, when these stars did not seem to bring her comfort, and when she had almost lost faith in that kind heavenly Father, who nevertheless had now brought all this happiness to her.

She fell on her knees and thanked G.o.d for his goodness, and prayed that she might never again doubt Him, but that even in times of sorrow, she might be able to say, with heart-felt trust in the words of her father's verse:

"G.o.d holds us in his hand, G.o.d knows the best to send."

Uncle t.i.tus and Aunt Ninette engaged their rooms with Mrs. Kurd for the following summer; Uncle t.i.tus even went farther still, and begged Mrs.

Kurd, no matter what happened, never to promise them to any one else; for he left her house now with keen regret, and hoped to return to it every summer as long as he lived.

When Monday morning came, the whole family were on hand before the cottage, to wish the departing guests good-speed. Rolf drew the uncle aside, and asked if he might venture to send a charade to Karlsruhe, now and then; to which Uncle t.i.tus kindly replied that he should receive any such with pleasure, and answer them with punctuality.

Sly little Hunne, when he overheard these remarks, declared at once, "I will also send mine;" for he did not doubt that his would be equally acceptable to Uncle t.i.tus, if not more so. He thought also that the quiet people of Karlsruhe would never be able to guess such charades as he would make, and his heart was filled with pride. Dora and Paula wandered arm in arm into the garden, singing gaily,

"No farther losses to deplore In friends.h.i.+p live for evermore."