CHAPTER III

ANOTHER HOME

While Otto and Miezi Ritter were going home after the coasting, Wiseli was running down the hill as fast as her little feet could take her; she realized that she was later than usual and was sorry to have kept her mother waiting. The pleasure of her coast gave an added impetus, for she could scarcely wait to tell her mother about it. In her haste she would have run against a man coming from the house, had he not quickly stepped to one side. She found her mother reclining in a chair by the window, and she wondered at it because it was so unusual. She threw her arms about her neck, saying eagerly, "Are you vexed with me, mother, for not coming sooner?"

"Why, no, child; but I am glad that you are here now."

She hastily told her mother about Otto's kindness, and how she had enjoyed two long rides on the prettiest sled in school. "But, mother," she added, "what is the matter? Why haven't you a light?"

"You may get the lamp now and bring me a glass of water. I am so thirsty."

Wiseli went to the kitchen and returned carrying the lamp in one hand and a bottle of fruit juice in the other.

"What are you bringing me?" asked the mother.

"I don't know myself. I found it on the kitchen table. See how it sparkles." The mother drew the cork. "It is raspberry juice, as fragrant as the berries fresh from the garden," she said.

Wiseli poured some of the rich juice into a tumbler and diluted it with water; this the mother drank in long draughts until the tumbler was emptied. "Leave it near me, Wiseli," she said. "It seems as if I could drink it all, I am so thirsty and it is so refreshing. I wonder who was so thoughtful as to bring it to me! It must have come from Mrs. Ritter's and very likely Trina brought it over."

"Trina always comes in when she brings anything. Was she here to-day?"

"No. No one came in."

"Joiner Andreas may have left it when he was here," said Wiseli.

"Wiseli!" exclaimed the mother. "Joiner Andreas has not been here either."

"But I saw him, mother. He came out of the house just as I came in. I nearly ran into him in my hurry. Didn't you hear any one? It seems strange that he should have been so quiet."

"I do remember that I thought the kitchen door opened, and I listened for your footsteps, but you came in a few moments later, so I thought I must have been mistaken. Are you sure that it was Andreas whom you saw?"

Wiseli was certain, but to convince the mother she described him as he invariably looked. "I shouldn't wonder," she added, "if it were he who brought that large jar of honey you liked so much, and also the cakes you found that day. Don't you remember thanking Trina for them when she brought you the hot dinner, and she told you that she knew nothing about them? It must have been Joiner Andreas who did it."

Tears filled the mother's eyes as she said, "I think that probably you are right, Wiseli."

"Surely you are not going to be sorry about it, mother," said Wiseli, as she fondly stroked her mother's hair.

"No, but I want you to thank him for me sometime, Wiseli. I am afraid that I cannot do it myself. Tell him that it did me good; that I was glad he was so kind. Give me a little more, please."

Wiseli prepared the fruit juice and brought a pillow from the bed so that her mother could rest her head on the window seat. She drew a footstool to the window and made her mother comfortable. Then she sat down beside her and said, "It is time for me to say the verses you taught me.

Commit thou all thy ways And all that grieves thy heart To Him whose endless days Can strength and grace impart.

"He gives to wind and wave The power to be still; For thee He'll surely save A place to work His will."

"Remember that, Wiseli," said the mother, drowsily. "If the time ever comes when it seems as if you were not cared for, take comfort and courage from the verses you have just repeated."

The mother's regular breathing soon told Wiseli that she was asleep; but the child remained quietly by her side for fear of waking her. Thus it happened that she too fell asleep, and the lamp burned on, growing fainter and fainter until it burned itself out and left the house dark in the quiet night.

Early the following morning a neighbor passed the window on her way to the well, and, glancing in as usual, she saw Wiseli crying beside the mother, who had her head pillowed on the window seat. She ran to the child, saying, "What is it, Wiseli? I hope your mother is not worse."

Wiseli only sobbed. The neighbor bent over the mother in surprise and alarm. "Go to your uncle quickly, Wiseli," she said; "tell him to come immediately. I will wait here until you get back."

The uncle's house was about fifteen minutes' walk from the church, and Wiseli ran on obediently, although the tears would not be kept back. Her aunt answered the knock at the door; seeing the child in tears she said gruffly, "What is the matter with you?"

"I have been sent over to get my uncle; my mother is dead," answered Wiseli, for she had reasoned it out to herself that it must be so or else the mother would speak to her.

The aunt softened perceptibly. "He is not here just now," she said almost kindly. "I will have him come as soon as possible, so you needn't wait."

It was not long after Wiseli's return that the uncle came. He directed the neighbor to look after everything so that he might take the child away at once.

"But where shall we go?" inquired Wiseli.

"You shall go home with me, for I am all that you have left now. I will take care of you."

In spite of this assurance a great dread seized Wiseli. To go home with her uncle meant to live with the aunt of whom she was so afraid that she had always dreaded even meeting her. Then there were the three rude cousins, of whom Chappi was the oldest. The thought of how Hans and Rudi were always throwing stones at children made her shudder. How could she go there to live, and yet how dared she refuse?

All these thoughts flashed through Wiseli's mind as she stood hesitating. "You needn't be afraid," said her uncle kindly; "there are a good many of us, to be sure, but you will find that all the more interesting."

Wiseli tied a few of her things in a bundle, put a shawl over her head, and joined her uncle who was waiting near the door.

"That is a good girl," said the uncle; "now let us be off. Don't cry any more; that never helps anything."

Wiseli choked back the sobs as best she could and followed the uncle, whose stern nature had never been so touched before. Thus the little home where Wiseli had lived, loving and beloved, passed out of her life forever.

They had a glimpse of Trina, who was crossing a vacant lot with a basket on her arm, and Wiseli knew that she was going to see her mother.

Trina said to the neighbor who met her at the door; "I have something good for the sick one's dinner; I hope I am not too late. We have a visitor, and everything is late when he is there."

"It doesn't matter now, for you would have been too late even if you had come early this morning; she died in the night," said the neighbor.

"Oh, what will Mrs. Ritter say!" exclaimed Trina in alarm. "She tried so hard to have me come yesterday, but we were all so taken up with the uncle's arrival that it was put off. I am so sorry to have to tell her of this because I know how she will blame herself for neglecting her friend so long."

"Yes," said the neighbor, "we are all apt to do that. Yesterday I did not suspect that she was any worse than usual."

Trina sorrowfully returned to the Ritter home.