My aunt has forgiven Aniela long ago. She loves her so much that if
I died she would still have somebody to cling to, provided Aniela
remained. To-day the dear old aunt was lamenting that Aniela had no
amusements, was sitting too much in the house and had seen nothing of
the beautiful scenery around except the road to Hofgastein. "If I were
only stronger on my feet I would go with you everywhere; your
husband ought to have shown you something of the country, and he was
continually tramping about by himself."
Aniela assured her that she was quite satisfied, and did not want more
exercise.
"I have nothing to do," said I, in the most careless manner, "and walk
a great deal. I can accompany Aniela wherever she wants to go,
and show her all that is worth seeing,--at least in the nearest
neighborhood." Then I added, in a still more indifferent voice: "It
is considered quite the proper thing. In a place like this mere
acquaintances walk out together, not to say anything about near
relations."
Aniela did not say anything, but both the elder ladies were unanimous
in their opinion that I was right. To-morrow we are to go to the
Schreckbrücke.