"Will you be so kind. Uncle Leo, as to tell the dog to be quiet. The
woman here is ill, and her husband is gone to Muensterberg for the
doctor."
A motion of his foot sent the dog into a corner.
"But how about you, my child?" he exclaimed, "you don't speak of
yourself."
She had been quite prepared for a scolding, and was not sure in what
tone she should answer this overwhelming friendliness. A wavering
smile, alike defiant and pained, played about the corners of her mouth.
"Well, you see what I am doing," she said, evading his glance. "I am
here brewing elder tea for the sick woman."
A kettle stood on the tripod near her on the hearth, licked by the
ruddy flames.
"And what have you got on?" he asked.
She stepped quickly out of the circuit of light cast by the fire, and
drew the shawl, with her left hand, closer round her throat.
"I had to put on just what I could find," she stammered, "so please
don't look at me."
There hung drying above the fire on a clothes' line a wet skirt, which
still steamed, and near it a draggled rag, which was the light cotton
blouse she had been wearing that day.
"You were upset!" he exclaimed, hardly able to master his horror.
She tried to shrug her shoulders indifferently, but looked rather
piteous as she did so.
"Upset?" she said; "well, what of that? I simply swam ashore."
"In those clothes?" he asked. "What woman could ever swim in clothes?"
"Good gracious!" she exclaimed, with her eyes still on the floor; "why
not? The things I could do without I left in the boat.... To-morrow
they will turn up somewhere."
"Now, child, tell me all about it," he urged.
"What am I to tell you?" she replied. "You will only scold me;" and her
lips curled saucily.
"I promise I won't," he assured her.
"Then, here goes," she said, and fetched a deep breath as if to gain
courage for the task. "When I found, all at once, that I had got into
the current, and saw that with one wretched oar I couldn't get out
again, I thought to myself, 'God's will, be done. At any rate, you will
enjoy the beautiful evening till some one comes to pick you up;' but
no one came. But I didn't mind that either. It was really so wonderful
to see reeds and banks rushing by. It was like being in the middle of
fairyland."
She paused and looked up at him with great scared eyes, as if she
suddenly recollected to whom she was speaking. Then she devoted herself
to the kettle, raised the lid, and blew the flames.
"Why don't you go on?" he insisted on knowing.
"I can't," she said softly. "You _will_ look at me all the time."
"I'll look the other way," he said.