Heinecke. Huh!

Robert. What, Father?

Heinecke. Aw, nuthin'!

Robert. And I have sworn that I won't slacken in his service until I've drawn my last breath!

Heinecke. I should think by this time you'd have done about enough for them!

Frau Heinecke. You've sc.r.a.ped and slaved for them for ten years!

Robert. Oh, it wasn't as bad as that, Mother. But now let's not talk about them this way any more. Every day we have one reason or other for thanking the Muhlingks. The letters I had from the Councillor, and from Kurt especially,--he's a partner now,--were like letters from a close friend.

Heinecke. Kurt--Oh, he's a fine young gentleman! But as for the rest--"The Moor has paid his debt"[4] as the Berliner says--show me the rabble! (Robert _swallows his answer and turns away, frowning_) But, Bobby, look around! Don't you notice anything? He don't see anything, Mother!

Frau Heinecke. Oh, stop your chatter!

Heinecke. Chatter! Ho! When I try to welcome my dear son back to his father's house, then it's chatter! (_Leads_ Robert _to the placard_) W--what do you say to that, eh?

Robert. Did you make that, Father, you with your lame arm?

Heinecke. Ah! I make lots of things. If the poor old cripple didn't take a hand this fine family would have starved long ago!--(_Rather roughly_) What are you standing there staring at. Mother? Where's the coffee?

Frau Heinecke. Well, well! (_Starts to go_)

Robert. (_Hurrying after her_) Oh, Mother, he didn't mean anything!

Frau Heinecke. Mean anything? Ha! Ha! he's only talking that way to make you think he's the man of the house! (_She goes out_)

Robert. (_After a pause, he tries to soothe over the unpleasantness_) You still paste boxes. Father?

Heinecke. Still at it!

Robert. And the arm doesn't bother you?

Heinecke. My arm, ha! ha! ha! my arm! Do you want to see how I do it!

First the pasteboard--so--then the fold--so! (_With great speed he sweeps the pastebrush across two sheets of cardboard, pressing them into place with his left elbow_) Who could beat your old cripple at that?

Robert. You are a regular juggler.

Heinecke. That's what! But who admits it? Who appreciates me? Who appreciates me? n.o.body! How could the daughters--one of 'em already a Missus--respect me when their own mother gives 'em such a bad example!

Robert. (_Indignantly_) Father!

Heinecke. Yes, you're a long way from her lap--far away cows have long horns--There, it's "dear little Mother! sweet little sister!"--But if you knew what I've had to stand! Not once does she give me horse-car-fare when I want to go to town for a gla.s.s of beer!

Robert. Are you quite fair to her? Doesn't she cherish you as the apple of her eye?

Heinecke. Lord, I didn't mean to say anything against her--shh!--here she comes! (_Enter_ Frau Heinecke _with a steaming coffee-pot_) Sit down, Bobby,--No, here in the arm-chair! Wait a minute! (_Pulls off the covering from the chair_) Such a fine gentleman ought to sit on pure silk!

Frau Heinecke. Yes, and the other's just the same! Two pieces we've got! And have you seen the pier-gla.s.s? All gold creepers, and the gla.s.s in one piece! Augusta's husband says it cost at least two hundred marks!

Robert. Where did all these wonderful things come from.

Frau Heinecke. From the Councillor!

Robert. He gives you things like this?

Heinecke. Naw, only----

Frau Heinecke. (_Aside_) Ssh! don't you know that Herr Kurt doesn't want it known? (_To_ Robert) Yes, last Christmas he gave us the mirror, and this Christmas the two chairs. Father, quit boring holes in the pound cake!

Robert. Really, I don't like this sort of generosity!

Frau Heinecke (_Pouring out coffee_) This furniture 'd be too good for some people! But when we have such fine visitors and such a distinguished gentleman for a son, and such an awful talented daughter----

Robert. Alma?

Heinecke. Yessir! We did everything for our girl we were able to do.

Frau Heinecke. And you always sent money----

Robert. So that she should have a proper schooling, and learn millinery and bookkeeping. That's what we agreed on.

Frau Heinecke. Yes--that was before--!

Robert. Before? Hasn't she the same position now?

Frau Heinecke. Not for the last six months.

Robert. What is she doing now?

Heinecke. (_Proudly_) She is cultivating her voice!

Robert. Why, I never heard she was musical!

Heinecke. Awful musical!

(_They drink the coffee._)

Frau Heinecke. She was examined by some Italian singer--Seenyora or something--she said she had never heard anything like it before and she would take it as an honor to develop Alma's voice herself at her own cost.

Robert. But why did you keep that from me?

Frau Heinecke. Oh, it was such a long way, clear out to India, you forget such things--and then, we wanted to give you a surprise!

Robert. (_Gets up and walks excitedly up and down_) Auguste really takes good care of her?

Frau Heinecke. Certainly. She never lets her eye off her. Alma eats at her house and practises at her house and when she stays too late to catch the horsecar she sleeps there--same as she did last night.