Page:Poet Lore, volume 31, 1920.djvu/531

Rh Ančka.—Good-by. (Goes out.)

Plavec.—What has happened to our Ančka? She seems rather strange, mad as a hornet ever since yesterday.

Mrs. Rettig.—But she makes the dumplings well.

Plavec.—Yesterday she forgot about them entirely. So you may be sure that I told her this morning to have them on hand today.

Mrs. Rettig.—I should think so; they don't make them so well in any other place.

Plavec.—No indeed—das heisst, madam, in your house—

Mrs. Rettig (Merrily).—Careful, careful; you'll get caught in the net! I know what you said to Ančka.—But I asked you to call—

Plavec (Sitting down as if weary).—Is some one ill?

Mrs. Rettig.—You yourself, doctor, your heart. But you won't admit it. They knew about it all over town before I heard.

Plavec.—Ah, so I have been summoned to come in for a lecture.

Mrs. Rettig.—I wouldn't believe it.

Plavec (Merrily).—I believe you; I could hardly do so myself. It all happened so unexpectedly, out of a clear sky; das heisst, to tell the truth, I don't know how it did happen. I used to see Miss Lenka almost every day.

Mrs. Rettig.—Ever since she was a tiny girl.

Plavec.—But I never really noticed her until her old father fell ill. Then I saw what even such a little creature could do. She is an angel, a veritable angel. If it were not for her the tax-collector would have died. Day and night she cared for him. Such painstaking care, and besides that a host of other anxieties about her younger sisters and her brother! When I saw such devotion, a light dawned on me, my heart was touched, and I murmured to myself: "If you too—" Then I saw what love of family is, and also what it means to be such an old, gray-headed bachelor as myself, madam.

Mrs. Rettig.—Yes, that is true; but because such an old bache-