At the noon meal Ritz related faithfully all that had happened in school:  for now, since Sally and even Edi had received home-tasks, he found that to be more remarkable than sorrowful.  Edi seemed somewhat dejected.  When now the small, golden, roasted apples were placed on the table, Ritz stopped his report and applied himself thoroughly to the work of eating them.  When he had cleared his plate, which was done very quickly, he looked slyly at the plates of his brother and sister, for he knew that the second supply of the things on the table came only after all three had finished their first.  When he looked at Sally, his eyes stayed on her, and after he had watched her attentively for some time, he said:  “Sally, you keep on swallowing as much as you can, but you see, nothing can go down, because you have put nothing into your mouth, and your plate stays filled.”

Now Sally could not restrain her tears longer, for she had with great difficulty swallowed them, and had been very quiet.  Now she burst out into loud sobbing and said through her tears:  “Poor Erick, too, cannot eat today.  Now he has neither father nor mother and is all alone in the world.”

Sally’s weeping grew louder and louder, for she could not stop, since she had restrained herself so long.  Ritz looked, surprised and startled, from one to the other; he did not quite understand whether he was to blame for this.  The mother rose, took Sally by the hand, and led her out of the room.

This incident caused a great disturbance at the midday meal.  The father was annoyed and sat without saying a word.  The aunt, with great animation, tried to point out to him with this proof, how excitable children become when they do not go to bed in good time.  Edi, too, sat quite ill-humoredly before his plate, as if he had to swallow sorrel instead of little golden apples; for he felt much troubled that his father had heard of his inattention in the school.  Ritz had expected a kind of admonishing speech from him, because the outburst had taken place right after he had spoken to Sally.  Since it did not come and no one seemed to trouble about him, he settled himself firmly in his seat and ate everything that was on Sally’s and his mother’s plates.

When the father went out in the garden soon after, the mother followed him and led him to the small bench under the apple tree.  Seated there she told him what Sally, continuously interrupted by loud sobbing, had told her:  what had happened during the past night in Marianne’s cottage.  And she now asked her husband whether he did not think that some enquiries ought to be made about these strangers, and whether one ought not to do something for the little boy who, as it seemed, was standing all alone in the world.  But the pastor was not of her opinion, and said that these people had turned to Lower Wood for school and church, therefore he could not interfere at present.  His colleague in Lower Wood would