Page:Poet Lore, volume 21, 1910.djvu/449

 Petrichek, aren’t you coming with the young lady?

Petr (is gazing at the sky, he does not answer).

Kocianova.—Well, come, come. What are you looking at so?

Petr.—I am looking at those clouds.

''Same Scene. Towards evening.''

Petr (coming out of the parsonage with ).—So really, doctor, it is nothing serious?

Votava.—You get frightened too easily, my friend. By the postal you wrote, I thought, God knows what’s happened. Your mother got a bit strained during the harvesting, or probably she ate something that did not quite agree with her. Let her rest nicely for a day or two and she will be all right. Don’t bother—at her age every little indisposition looks serious.

Petr.—Thank the Lord ! But in the afternoon she had a pretty high fever. I was afraid that it might be typhus or something similar. Forgive us, doctor, that we troubled you so.

Votava.—Ah, what of that! I am quite used to these sudden messages. But poor Miss Zemanova, she got so frightened. She just came down to take a little walk with my wife, and as soon as she heard about yout [sic] mother’s illness she persisted in coming along with me.

Petr.—Good soul.

Votava.—Really she is an excellent person. Only last night when we were coming from here did I learn what a fine woman she is. (Nodding.) Yes, she is a splendid woman. My wife is very fond of her.

Petr.—And maminka—she was so glad that Miss Zemanova came with you.

Votava.—Yes, yes, and gladness is often better than all drugs, my friend. (Looking at his watch.) Well, as long as it is nothing worse, let maminka chat with the young lady for a while; I will take a ride to Pravovitz yet, and in an hour or so I’ll be here again. But don’t let your mother do much talking, rather let your guest entertain her. Better if she fell asleep.

Matoush (comes out of the house).

Votava.—Well, reverend sir, I’ll be on my way again. And don’t worry. It is nothing serious. Quiet and rest is all that is