“Yes, and Loneli is sure to be scolded by her grandmother for having spilled the milk,” Mea interrupted; “she always thinks that Loneli is careless and that it is always her own fault when somebody harms her. She is always punished for the slightest little fault.”
“But she never defends herself,” Kurt said, half in anger, partly with pity. “If those two ever tried to harm Clevi, they would soon get their faces scratched; Apollonie has brought Loneli up the wrong way.”
“Should you like to see Loneli jump at a boy’s face and scratch it, Kurt?” asked the mother.
After meditating a while Kurt replied, “I guess I really shouldn’t.”
“Don’t you all like Loneli because she never gets rough and always is friendly, obliging and cheerful? Her grandmother really loves her very much; but she is a very honest woman and worries about the child just because she is anxious to bring her up well. I should be extremely sorry if she scolded Loneli in the first excitement about the spilled milk. The boys should have gotten the blame, and I am sure that Apollonie will be sorry if she hears later on what really happened.”
“I’ll quickly run over and tell her about it,” Kurt suggested. The mother explained to him, however, that grandmother and grandchild were probably fast asleep by that time.
“Are we going to have the story of Castle Wildenstein for a finish now?” he inquired. But his mother had already risen, pointing to the wall clock, and Kurt saw that the usual time for going to bed had passed. As the following day was a Sunday, he was satisfied. They generally had quiet evenings then and there would be no interruptions to the story. Bruno, too, had now calmed down. It had softened him that his mother had found the Knippel boys’ behaviour contemptible and that she had not excused them in the least. He might have told the Rector about it, but such accusations he despised. He felt quite appeased since his mother had shared his indignation and knew about the matter. Soon the house lay peacefully slumbering under the fragrant apple trees. The golden moon above was going her way and seemed to look down with friendly eyes, as if she was gratified that the house, which was filled all day with such noise and lively movement, was standing there so calm and peaceful.