Mrs. Brauer.
Henry, you know how I love the girl; but, good gracious, she is not our
own dear, sweet one----
Gertrude.
Oh, she is more than that, mama dear.
Mrs. Brauer.
You are entirely too modest, my darling.
Gertrude.
Well, just imagine, mama dear, she was going to be married--and I
remained at home----
Mrs. Brauer.
Then we would retain our sunshine, our consolation, our---- [_Looking
at breakfast table with a questioning expression_.] But, children, I
can't understand----
Gertrude.
What, mama dear?
Mrs. Brauer.
Gracious! Everything is so--so-- [_Topsy-turvy indicated by action_.]
If she is not going to sleep, she may as well come down here----
Gertrude.
[_Laughingly caressing her mama_.] There, you see, mama, dear, not even
a single meal can you eat without her.
[George von Harten _enters_.]
Brauer.