Page:Poet Lore, volume 31, 1920.djvu/530

510 the aconite, belladonna and pills, prepare the agua distillata. It has nothing to do with me, but with those young folks. I know how it all began, how they began to like each other and just how much they like each other now.

Mrs. Rettig.—Lenka has been here.

Ančka (Hastily).—And I beg you, what—?

Mrs. Rettig.—She says that the doctor would be put to shame, laughed at.

Ančka.—That he is already, and will be more so. Of course: she such a little rosebud, barely blossoming, grafted on an old stump, if I may say so! And what does the doctor think about it, pray?

Mrs. Rettig.—I have still to talk with him.

Ančka.—The poor retainer! If only he could have a talk with Miss Lenka!

Mrs. Rettig.—Maybe he will.

Ančka.—Ah, where?

Mrs. Rettig.—In the grove.

Ančka.—Now I always said, if you would help them, madam—

Mrs. Rettig.—Ančka dear, tell the retainer—

Plavec (Still not to be seen, walking in. He speaks in a loud, good-natured, merry voice).—Where are you, madam, in the kitchen or in the parlor?

Mrs. Rettig.—In the parlor, doctor.

Ančka (Hastily).—What am I to say?

Mrs. Rettig (Hastily).—It's too late, he is here.—Couldn't you come a little later for those directions?

Ančka.—I will.

Mrs. Rettig (Going to the door).—But not a word now!

Plavec (At the open door).—Gehorsamster— What, Ančka! You here! Has the magistrate's wife asked you to come too?

Ančka (Frankly).—O no, I—

Mrs. Rettig (Interrupts).—It was just something about the cooking. Ančka, it will be best as I told you.

Ančka.—And if I, madam; if I—

Mrs. Rettig.—Yes, just come again; I'll tell you, I'll tell you.