A MOTHER
urged her to join them, but Cornelli had had too many impressions that day to be able to sing. She knew quite well the old evening song that they were singing, for Martha had taught it to her long ago, but she felt as if she could not utter a note.
At the end of the song Agnes suddenly exploded: “Oh, mother, that is nothing at all. When you are hoarse and Dino is in bed, our singing is frightful. Nika only squeaks like a little chicken with a sore throat.”
“Well, then one has to stop singing,” said Nika, shaking her shoulders a little proudly.
“No, the whole household has to sing, otherwise it is not worth anything,” Agnes declared. “It is a shame that the most beautiful thing in the world should be so little practiced.”
After the song was ended the mother took Cornelli kindly by the hand and said: “I am sure that you are tired, dear child. I am going to take you to a tiny bedroom, for I have no larger one. Your door leads into Agnes’ and Nika’s room,” she continued, when she was standing with Cornelli in the little chamber.
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