Married women -- Fiction; Mothers and daughters -- Fiction
“Yes, he is; and more and more, and worse and worse every time
he comes home,” continued his mother hoarsely; “and no wonder. Is
there another such face in the Four Cantons? But they are not for
one another--no, _never_!” and she stamped her heavy foot upon the
gravel. “She does not care for him,” stooping to pick up an apple, “no,
not this!” flinging it away with a vicious jerk. “She does not care
for anyone. My tongue is quiet--but I use my eyes. As for Fritz, he
shall marry one of his own country, a girl of his own class, strong,
hard-working, with a fortune--such there are. His cousin Gertrud, in
the Oberland, will suit me--and it has been arranged. Meanwhile Mitli,
whom he sees daily, goes to his head like new beer, and the boy is
as one drunken, and mad! and so, _mein liebe Frau_, after many years
together, and I may say friendship, I must give you notice to leave.”
For a moment or two Letty made no answer. Her little world had been
suddenly dissolved and was whirling about her. She looked across the
garden, and its tall, white lilies and standard roses, to the familiar
brown house, with green shutters, then up at her own open window--with
its accustomed sponge,--her haven for so long.
At last she said:
“Very well, I see your point of view, and I am afraid Cara is inclined
to be a flirt. The child likes to make herself pleasant to everyone.”
“No, not to everyone,” corrected the other bitterly.
“I am really very, very sorry if Fritz is attracted. I honestly
believed it was just the old boy-and-girl liking.”
“Boy-and-girl liking, _Jesu Maria_! I’ve seen Fritz kiss her empty
shoes, I’ve known him watch her window till dawn; these are the follies
of his Italian blood. I hoped Zurich would end them, but he is worse.
_Ach ye!_ he is ten times worse! So now I send him to a relative near
Adelboden for some time; there he will learn farming and good sense.
When he returns----” She paused expressively.
“We shall have left, and to tell you the truth, Frau Hurter, this move
has been in my mind; but I love Les Plans, and hate the idea of a
change. I have lately come into a legacy which brings me in one hundred
and fifty pounds a year, and as Cara believes herself grown up, it is
time that we go to where she can mix with her own country-people. I am
undecided where to live, or what to do. I have been rooted here for so
long, that Les Plans seems like my home.”
“Dear lady, it would, and gladly, be your home for always--but for our
two children. Young people, will be young!”
“Well, to-day I shall write to Mrs. Hesketh and ask her advice,” said
Letty, collecting her work. “How soon must we move--in a week?”
“Oh, no; this is July--the end of September would suit. Fritz will be
away helping with the harvest.” After a moment’s silence she added,
“In my mind I’ve long had this to say to you, _liebe Frau_, and now,
thanks be to God, it’s said,” and she turned about, and went slowly
indoors.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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