nerally calculated to raise
enthusiasm in the heart of the average British husband. I decided to
wreck my virgin conception and send him down somewhere off Cape Horn.

Then the dinner-gong sounded.

"Come up to my room afterwards," said Frau Fischer. "There is still much
that I must ask you."

She squeezed my hand, but I did not squeeze back.

5. FRAU BRECHENMACHER ATTENDS A WEDDING.

Getting ready was a terrible business. After supper Frau Brechenmacher
packed four of the five babies to bed, allowing Rosa to stay with her
and help to polish the buttons of Herr Brechenmacher's uniform. Then she
ran over his best shirt with a hot iron, polished his boots, and put a
stitch or two into his black satin necktie.

"Rosa," she said, "fetch my dress and hang it in front of the stove to
get the creases out. Now, mind, you must look after the children and not
sit up later than half-past eight, and not touch the lamp--you know what
will happen if you do."

"Yes, Mamma," said Rosa, who was nine and felt old enough to manage a
thousand lamps. "But let me stay up--the 'Bub' may wake and want some
milk."

"Half-past eight!" said the Frau. "I'll make the father tell you too."

Rosa drew down the corners of her mouth.

"But... but..."

"Here comes the father. You go into the bedroom and fetch my blue silk
handkerchief. You can wear my black shawl while I'm out--there now!"

Rosa dragged it off her mother's shoulders and wound it carefully
round her own, tying the two ends in a knot at the back. After all, she
reflected, if she had to go to bed at half past eight she would keep the
shawl on. Which resolution comforted her absolutely.

"Now, then, where are my clothes?" cried Herr Brechenmacher, hanging his
empty letter-bag behind the door and stamping the snow out of his boots.
"Nothing ready, of course, and everybody at the wedding by this time. I
heard the music as I passed. What are you doing? You're not dressed. You
can't go like that."

"Here they are--all ready for you on the table, and some warm water
in the tin basin. Dip your head in. Rosa, give your father the towel.
Everything ready except the trousers. I haven't had time to shorten
them. You must tuck the ends into your boots until we get there."

"Nu," said the Herr, "there isn't room to turn. I want the light. You go
and dress in the passage."

Dressing in the dark was nothing to Frau Brechenmacher. She hooked
her skirt and bodice, fastened her han