CHAPTER III
IT IS HILDEGARDE
A pair of friends.--WORDSWORTH.
Fraulein was right. Both driver and horses woke up wonderfully as thefirst straggling houses of the village came in sight; it would beimpossible to describe the extraordinary sounds and ejaculations whichFriedrich, as he was called, addressed to his steeds, but which theyevidently quite understood.
'How nice it is to go so fast, and to hear the bells jingling so,' saidLeonore. 'I wish we had farther to go.'
'If that were the case we should soon sober down again,' said Frauleinwith a smile, adding the next moment, 'and here we are. See the goodaunt, my child, as I told you--standing at the gate, just as I last sawher, when I left her five years ago! But then it was parting andtears--now it is meeting and joy.'
Tears nevertheless were not wanting in the eyes of both the goodladies--tears of happiness, however, which were quickly wiped away.
'How well you are looking--not a day older,' said the niece.
'And you, my Elsa--how well _you_ look. A trifle stouter perhaps, butthat is an improvement. You have always been too thin, my child,' saidthe aunt, fondly patting Fraulein's shoulders, though she had to reachup to do so. Then she moved quickly to Leonore with a little exclamationof apology.
'And I have not yet welcomed our guest. Welcome to Dorf, my Fraulein--athousand times welcome, and may you be as happy here as the old auntwill wish to make you.'
Leonore had been standing by eyeing the aunt and niece with the greatestinterest. It amused her much to hear her governess spoken to as 'mychild,' for to _her_ Fraulein seemed quite old, long past the age ofthinking _how_ old she was. Indeed, the white-haired little lady did notseem to her much older!
'Thank you,' she said in reply to the aunt's kind words. 'I hope Ishall be very happy here, but please don't call me anything butLeonore.'
'As you please,' her new friend replied, while Fraulein smiledbeamingly. She was most anxious that her aunt and her pupil should makefriends, and she knew that, though Leonore was a polite andwell-mannered little girl, she had likes and dislikes of her own, andnot always quite reasonable ones. Perhaps, to put it shortly, she feltanxious that her charge was just a trifle spoilt, and that she herselfhad had a hand in the spoiling.
'A motherless child,' she had said to herself many and many a time inexcuse during the five years she had had the care of Leonore, forFraulein had gone to her when the little girl was only four years old,'and her papa so far away! Who could be severe with her?'
Not tender-hearted Fraulein Elsa, most certainly!
So she felt especially delighted when Leonore replied so prettily to heraunt, and still more so when the child lifted up her face for the kissof welcome which Aunt Anna was only too ready to bestow, though shewould have been rather surprised had she known the thoughts that were inLeonore's head at the moment.
'I believe she _does_ know something about fairies,' the little girlwas saying to herself. 'She has nice twinkly eyes, and--oh, I don't knowwhat makes me think so, but I believe she _does_ understand about them.Any way, she won't be like my aunts in England who always want me toread improving books and say I am getting too big for fairy stories.'
That first evening in the quaint old village was full of interest forLeonore. Aunt Anna's house in itself was charming to her, for thoughreally small as to the size and number of its rooms, it did not seem so.There were such nice 'twisty' passages, and funny short flights ofsteps, each leading perhaps to only one room, or even to nothing morethan a landing with a window.
And, standing at one of these, the little girl made a grand discovery,which took her flying off to the room where Fraulein was busilyunpacking the boxes which the carrier had already brought.
'Fraulein, Fraulein,' she cried; 'I've been looking out at the back ofthe house, and just across the yard there's a lovely sort of bigcourtyard and buildings round it, and I saw a man all white and powderycarrying sacks. Is there a mill here?'
'Yes, my dear,' Fraulein replied. 'Did I not tell you? It is a very oldmill, and the same people have had it for nearly a hundred years--suchnice people too. I will take you all over it in a day or two--it willamuse you to see the different kinds of grain and flour, all so neatlyarranged.'
'And the same people have been there for nearly a hundred years!'exclaimed Leonore. 'How _very_ old they must be.'
Fraulein laughed. Though Leonore was so fond of wonders and fancies, shewas sometimes very matter-of-fact. Aunt Anna, who just then joined them,smiled kindly.
'Elsa did not mean the same _persons_,' she explained, 'but the samefamily--the same name. Those there now--the miller himself--is thegreat-grandson of the man who was there first when the mill was built,which was, I think, fully _more_ than a hundred years ago,' she added,turning to her niece.
Leonore looked rather disappointed.
'Oh,' she said, 'I thought it would be so nice to see people who were ahundred. Then, I suppose, the people here aren't any older than anywhereelse.'
'I can scarcely say that,' Aunt Anna replied. 'There are some very old,and--there are odd stories about a few of the aged folk. I know one ortwo who do not seem to have grown any older since _I_ can remember, andmy memory goes back a good way now. But, my dears, I came to tell youthat supper is ready--we must not let it get cold.'
She held out her hand to Leonore as she spoke. The little girl took it,and went off with her very happily, Fraulein calling after them that shewould follow immediately.
'Please tell me, Aunt Anna,' said Leonore--it had been decided that sheshould thus address the old lady--'please tell me, do you mean that someof these very old people who don't grow any older are a kind of_fairy_?'
She spoke almost in a whisper, but she was quite in earnest.
'Well,' said Aunt Anna, 'this country is on the borders of Fairyland, sowho can say? When we were children--I and my brothers and sisters andthe little barons and baronesses up at the Castle--when we all playedtogether long ago, we used often to try to find the way there--andfairies, of course, are much cleverer than we are. I don't see why someof them may not stray into our world sometimes.'
'And pretend to be _not_ fairies,' said Leonore eagerly. 'P'raps they goback to Fairyland every night, and are here every day; fairies don'tneed to go to sleep ever, do they?'
But Aunt Anna had not time to reply just then, for supper was on thetable, and all her attention was given to seeing that the dishes werewhat they should be, and in helping her little guest to Leonore'sliking.
When Fraulein joined them, however, the conversation took a more generalturn.
'I was speaking just now to Leonore,' Aunt Anna began, 'of mychildhood--when your dear father, Elsie, and the others, and I used toplay with the castle children. And that reminds me that I have a pieceof news for you--things repeat themselves it is said. It will be strangeif a second generation----' she said no more, and for a moment or twoseemed lost in thought--the thought of the past!
Fraulein was used to her aunt's ways; the old lady was a curious mixtureof practical commonsense and dreamy fancifulness. But after a littlepause the niece recalled her to the present.
'A piece of news, you said, aunt? Good news, I hope?' she inquired.
'I think so,' said the aunt. 'It is about the family at the Castle.Little Baroness Hildegarde is probably, almost certainly, coming hereto spend the winter with her grandparents. She may arrive any day.'
'Oh I _am_ pleased to hear it,' said Fraulein. 'It was just what I washoping might happen, but I dared scarcely think of it. It would be sonice for our dear Leonore to have a companion.'
Leonore pricked up her ears at this.
'Yes, my dear,' Fraulein went on, in answer to the question in her eyes,'I have not spoken of it to you before, for there seemed so littlechance of its coming to pass. It is about the little Hildegarde whowould be such a delightful companion for you. She is just about yourage, an only child as you are, and such a dear little girl by allaccounts. I have not seen her since
she was six, but Aunt Anna knows herwell, and the family at the Castle have been our most kind friends forso long.'
Leonore looked full of interest but rather perplexed.
'I don't quite understand,' she said. 'Do you mean that the little girlis perhaps coming to live here in this house with us?'
'Oh no, my dear. Her own home is a good way off, but her grandpapa andgrandmamma live at the Castle--a large old gray house half way up thehill above the village. I will show it to you to-morrow. It is awonderfully quaint old place. And the little Baroness comes sometimes onlong visits to her grandparents, who love to have her.'
'Only they fear it is lonely for her, as she is accustomed to the lifeof a great capital,' said Aunt Anna. 'They were delighted to hear I wasexpecting a little guest, when I saw them the other day, and they toldme of the probability of Hildegarde's coming.'
Fraulein almost clapped her hands at this.
'Nothing could be more fortunate,' she said. 'There will be no fear nowof your finding Dorf dull, my dearest Leonore.'
Leonore smiled back in return. It was impossible not to be touched byher kind governess's anxiety for her happiness, but she herself had hadno fears about being dull or lonely at Dorf. She was not much accustomedto companions of her own age, and just a little shy of them, so the newsof Hildegarde's coming was not quite as welcome to her as to herfriends.
'I should have been quite happy without anybody else,' she said toherself. 'I love old Aunt Anna, and I am sure she knows plenty of fairystories whether she has ever seen any fairies herself or not.'
Still she felt, of course, a good deal of curiosity to see thegrandchild of the Castle, and could not help letting her thoughts run onher. Would she be taller or smaller than herself--dark or fair, merry orquiet? Above all, would she care for the same things--would she lovefairies, and be always hoping to see one some day?
There was plenty for Leonore to think about, and dream about, that firstnight in the quaint little house, was there not?
And dream she did. When she woke in the morning it seemed to her thatshe had been busy at it all night, though only one bit of her dreamsremained in her memory. This bit was about Hildegarde, and, strange asit seemed, about a person she had only given a passing moment'sattention to--the old dame in the market-place at Alt.
She dreamt that she was walking along the village street, when she hearda voice calling. She was alone, and she looked back expecting to seeFraulein. But no--a queer little figure was trotting after her, and asit came nearer she heard that the name that reached her ears was not'Leonore,' but 'Hildegarde,' and with that, some queer feeling made herslip inside the shade of a gateway she was passing to watch whathappened. And as the figure came quite close she saw that it was that ofthe old apple-woman--then to her surprise there came flying down thehill, for the village street lay closely below the rising ground at oneside, a child all dressed in white, with fair hair blowing about herface as she ran.
'Here I am,' she said, 'what is it?'
And now glancing at the dame, Leonore saw that she was quite changed--atfirst indeed she thought she was no longer there, till some unutteredvoice seemed to tell her that the figure now before her was still thesame person. She had grown tall and wavy-looking--her wrinkled face wassmooth and fair--only the bright dark eyes remained, and as she held outher hand as if to welcome the pretty child, Leonore saw that in it laythree nuts small and dry and brown--just like the three still stored inher own jacket pocket.
'Take these,' said a sweet low voice, 'they will match hers. You willknow what to do with them, and by their means you will bring her to me.We must make her happy--she has travelled far, and she has longed tocross the borderland.
And Hildegarde, for the same inner voice seemed to tell Leonore thatHildegarde it was, took the nuts and nodded, as if to say 'Iunderstand,' and with that, to her great disappointment, Leonore awoke!
Awoke, however, to what goes far to take away disappointment of such akind. For the sun was shining brightly, her simple but cosy little roomseemed painted in white and pale gold, and a soft green by the windowtold her that the creepers had not yet faded into their winter bareness.
'I wonder what o'clock it is,' thought the little girl, as she gazedabout her in great content. 'How glad I am that it is such a fine day! Ido want to go all about the village, and especially to see the Castle. I_wonder_ if Hildegarde is like the little girl in my dream. I do hopeshe is. And how funny that I should have dreamt about the nut-womanturning into a fairy--it does seem as if Hildegarde must care forfairies just as I do--and as if she knew a good deal about them, too. Bythe bye I do hope my nuts are safe. I never remembered to take them outof my jacket pocket!'
She was on the point of jumping up to see if they were still there whenthe door opened softly and Fraulein peeped in. She was already dressed,and her face was beaming; it seemed to reflect the sunshine coming inat the window.
'Oh, Fraulein, dear,' said Leonore, 'how lazy I am! You are dressed, andI only woke up a few minutes ago.'
'All the better, my child,' was Fraulein's kind reply. 'It means, Ihope, that you have slept well and soundly. My native air brings backold habits to me, you see. I was always accustomed to getting up veryearly here. And see, what a lovely day it is! As soon as we have hadbreakfast I must take you out to see the village and----'
'The Castle,' interrupted Leonore. 'Can't we go to the Castle? I do sowant to know if Hildegarde has come. I have been--' 'dreaming abouther,' she was going to say, but something, she knew not what, made herhesitate and change the words into 'thinking of her--' 'so much.'
Which was of course quite true.
And something of the same feeling prevented her looking for the nutstill Fraulein left the room.
'It is not likely that the little Baroness has already arrived,' hergoverness replied. 'We shall be sure to hear as soon as she comes. Butwe can see something of the Castle _outside_ at any rate. For the nextfew days I think it must be all holiday-time,' she went on, smiling.'Aunt Anna begs for it, and we have been working pretty steadily theselast months.'
Leonore had no objection to this proposal, though she was fond oflessons, never having been over-dosed with them, and she jumped out ofbed and bathed and dressed in the best of spirits. The nuts were quitesafe in her jacket pocket. She wrapped them in a piece of paper forbetter security and put them back again.
'I should not like to lose them,' she thought. 'My dream has given me afeeling that there is something out of the common about them, and Ishould like to take them with me wherever I go. Just _supposing_ I evermet any fairy sort of person, perhaps the nuts might turn out to be ofuse in some queer way.'
After breakfast, and when Fraulein had helped Leonore to arrange herbooks and work and other little things in the room that was to serve asher schoolroom during the winter, they set off on their first ramblethrough and round the village.
It was a pretty village--lying as it did at the foot of the hills, whichwere beautifully wooded, it could scarcely have been ugly. But besidesthese natural advantages, it was bright and clean; many of the houses,too, were pretty in themselves, with deep roofs and carved balconies,and in some cases many coloured designs painted on the outside walls.Leonore was delighted; it was so different from any place she had everseen before.
'Oh, Fraulein,' she exclaimed, 'it's like a toy-town. It doesn't look asif real people had built it.'
'But it looks as if very real people had built _that_, does it not?'said Fraulein, stopping short and drawing Leonore a little backward.
'_That_' was the grim old Castle, of which they now had the first view,standing lonely and gray up on the heights overlooking the village, likea stern guardian keeping watch on the doings of playful children at hisfeet.
The little girl gazed at it with all her eyes.
'It's a real Castle,' she exclaimed; 'I _am_ so pleased. It looks as ifit had dungeons and--and--forti-- What is the word, Fraulein?'
'Fortifications,' said her governess. 'You mean that
it is fortified.Yes; at least it used to be in the old days. There are the holes in thewalls which the defenders used to shoot through in time of siege, andthere are battlements still quite perfect round the front. It is sopleasant to saunter on them, and think of the strange scenes the oldplace must have witnessed. We can walk up the hill towards the gates ifyou like, and you will see a little more.'
Leonore, of course, _did_ like, and the nearer they got to the Castlethe more was she fascinated by the view of the ancient building. Justoutside the entrance they stood still, and Fraulein began pointing outto her its different parts and giving her a little historical account ofit, to which she listened with interest. Suddenly--for all was verysilent just then--they heard steps approaching and a clear young voicesinging softly. And--Fraulein stopped talking and stood gazing beforeher, as did Leonore, till--from among the trees which bordered the shortapproach to the inner gateway, there appeared a childish figure, runningtowards them, singing as she came. A young girl, dressed all in white,with fair floating hair----
'It is Hildegarde,' said Leonore, growing pale with excitement. For thefigure was exactly like the little girl in her dream!
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