“I’ll come to see you to-morrow,” was Cornelli’s answer, and it sufficed. Quite happily Martha said good-bye, making Cornelli repeat her promise that she would spend some time next day with her old friend and the new boarder. Next day Cornelli actually arrived at Martha’s cottage at the accustomed time. Martha was standing by her carnation pots on the porch, ready to greet the visitor who was approaching. “Dino is so glad that you are coming, Cornelli,” she said, offering her hand as greeting. “He has just returned from drinking milk. Look, here he comes!” Dino had heard the arrival of Martha’s expected friend and opening the door had stepped out. “Why have you not come for so long?” he asked, giving Cornelli his hand. “I waited for you every day.” Cornelli gave no answer. Entering the room together they sat down just as they did the first day of their acquaintance. Martha went out, because she knew that the children would get along better alone, and she was very anxious for the two to become good friends. “Your small white kid is growing more cunning every day,” said Dino. “You should see it when it bounds about so gaily.” “I don’t care if I see it again or not. Nothing matters at all to me,” Cornelli returned in a most unfriendly manner. “No, this is not true,” said Dino, laughing kindly. “When one talks that way it shows that one cares a great deal and that one is full of bitter thoughts, just because one can’t have what one wants. I know that very well; I do exactly the same thing.” Cornelli was so astonished by Dino’s knowledge in the matter that she gazed at him dumfounded. “Oh, yes, I know how it is,” he repeated. “But you do not need to be bitter, because you lead the finest life anyone possibly could. I always think so each morning and evening when I go over to the stable to drink my milk. What a wonderful garden you have! I never saw such fruit. A whole tree full of plums and all the berries on the bushes! And then the two fine horses that are kept separately in your stable for you. Matthew has told me that your father drives with you every week and that you can have everything in the house and in the garden, for you are the only child.” “Oh, if only there were twelve or twenty children in the house, then everything would be different,” Cornelli broke forth passionately. “But I am always alone and never can say a word to anybody. And if one is made so that everybody hates and despises one, and if no one in the whole world can help one and everything gets worse all the time---You do not know how it is. I only wish I could die right away--” Here Cornelli burst into sudden tears. Putting her head on the table she sobbed violently. Dino looked quite frightened; he had never intended to make Cornelli sad and he could not understand what she had said. But he remembered that she had no mother and so he could understand her tears, for that was dreadfully sad. That seemed more cause for tears than that she was an only child.