After breakfast the tour began. Lilly walked between the colonel and
Fraeulein von Schwertfeger. They were joined by a pack of dogs, with
whom she was instantly on friendly terms. First they went to the
kitchen. It was a simply wonderful kitchen. It had walls of Dutch
tiles, copper taps out of which streams of hot and cold water gushed,
and a hearth of solid porcelain. Everything was so astonishing you
hardly knew what to look at first. And there was a face, an old rugged,
weather-beaten, thick-lipped face that looked up with moist eyes,
dumbly inquiring, "Don't you remember me, then?" And Lilly's eyes
answered, "Yes, I remember you." But she dared not speak with her lips
as well as her eyes, in case Fraeulein von Schwertfeger should be
started on investigations of the most crucial hour of her life, and
have a greater contempt for her than she had already. So she gave the
old cook her hand in silence, which renewed their bond of friendship.
Next they wait to the farm-servants' kitchen, where the Sunday soup was
boiling and bubbling in a huge copper cauldron like a stormy sea. Then
to the laundry, where the wringers and mangles shone like plated
dreadnoughts and the fragrance of soap lingered pleasantly in every
corner and cranny. The dairy and storerooms came next. Great hams hung
from the rafters like giant bats, wrapped in grey muslin; sausages,
too, like brown polished bolsters; and on straw there lay, even now in
April, piles of winter apples, golden pippins, and other rare kinds.
Rows of wide-lipped jars stood on the store-closet shelves. They
contained the preserves and dried fruits, to which one might help
oneself. Now the trio crossed the paved yard, where the waggons and
threshing-machines stood in line like soldiers on parade, to the barns
and stables. The saddle-horse stable! Heavens! what a palace! Wicker
chairs with cushions and footstools in front of them were scattered
about inviting you to rest. Over the stalls ran a matting frieze, with
porcelain plates on which the names of the thoroughbreds who dwelt
inside were engraved. Glossy slender necks and silken manes were thrust
forth to greet the beautiful young mistress, and intelligent human eyes
looked at her beseechingly.
"You must choose one of these to ride," said the colonel.
"But I can't ride," replied Lilly, embarrassed.
The grooms in red coats, who stood about with their caps in their
hands, grinned incredulously. A "gracious" lady who couldn't ride had
never come their way before.
Then they visited the stalls of the cart-horses. These were less
interesting. Some of them were dirty and not sweet-smelling. As for the
cowsheds, they made you feel nearly ill. But she took care not to show
what she felt, and, eager to learn, listened attentively to all the
colonel's and Fraeulein von Schwertfeger's explanations.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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