Page:Poet Lore, volume 31, 1920.djvu/526

506 awaited him, again the same daily grind, again the same struggle, and that he certainly would not live through it—And we love him so dearly! I could not help him. I would gladly have done everything, have gone to work—

Mrs. Rettig (Sympathetically).—My dear, you would have provided only for yourself. O, how weak woman is! No, not weak, but she cannot do more—all those considerations—And next, my child?

Lenka.—Dr. Plavec saved our father's life. He alone. He took such pains; he came to visit him even at night, and he was always so good and obliging, and always so encouraging. At home we were sometimes in despair; but things always grew brighter and more cheerful when the doctor came. He brought the medicine himself; he gave attention even to us, talked with the little ones, gave me advice, sat by father's side—saw to everything for him. It finally touched my heart. I felt so thankful when I saw that daddy was saved, I had such reverence for the doctor, was so fond of him—

Mrs. Rettig.—I believe you, my dear child.

Lenka.—When he was leaving us for the last time he praised me. "Fortunate father," he said, "but some time I shall lie helpless as a lone beggar;" he added with a laugh; but I felt so sorry for him at that moment—that he had no one to care for him—and I now knew what a long, severe illness meant. And so I told him frankly that I should take care of him. "Then you would have to be my wife," he said, and looked at me. I laughed, thinking it merely a joke, when he said gaily and bitterly: "And you wouldn't want that." ( frowns and shakes her head.) I was frightened and could not answer at once, and then he asked me straight out. Auntie, he had saved our father, he was so good and kind, we were so fond of him—

Mrs. Rettig.—You were fond of him, all of you; and you yourself, in behalf of all, out of gratitude, out of love for your father and family, and in your surprise—(Strokes her.)

Lenka (Exclaims, bitterly).—And Mr. Valenta stopped writing; for over half a year not a line—

Mrs. Rettig.—But he hasn't changed.

Lenka.—And now he thinks that only for gain—O, I beg you, madam!

Mrs. Rettig.—To tell him.

Lenka.—So that he may believe.

Mrs. Rettig.—Do you love him? (Gazes at her; looks