English girls have hair, but they do not have
_Frisurs_."

Anna came in through the open window, and Trudi's face expanded into the
most genial smiles. "How glad I am to make your acquaintance!" she cried
enthusiastically. She spoke English quite as correctly as her brother,
and much more glibly. "I hope you will let me help you if I can be of
any use. My brother says your uncle was so good to him. When I lived
here he was very kind to me too. How brave of you to stay here! And what
wonderful plans you have made! My brother has told me about your twelve
ladies. What courage to undertake to make twelve women happy. I find it
hard enough work making one person happy."

"One person? Oh, Graf Hasdorf."

"Oh no, myself. You see, if each person devoted his energies to making
himself happy, everybody would be happy."

"No, they wouldn't," said Anna, "because they do, but they're not."

They looked at each other and laughed. "She only needs Jungbluth to be
perfect," thought Trudi; and with her usual impulsiveness began
immediately to love her.

Anna was delighted to meet someone of her own class and age after the
severe though short course she had had of Dellwigs and Manskes; and
Trudi was so much interested in her plans, and so pressing in her offers
of help, that she very soon found herself telling her all her
difficulties about servants, sheets, wall-papers, and whitewash. "Look
at this paper," she said, "could you live in the same room with it? No
one will ever be able to feel cheerful as long as it is here. And the
one in the dining-room is worse."

"It isn't beautiful," said Trudi, examining it, "but it is what we call
_praktisch_."

"Then I don't like what you call _praktisch_."

"Neither do I. All the hideous things are _praktisch_--oil-cloth, black
wall-papers, handkerchiefs a yard square, thick boots, ugly women--if
ever you hear a woman praised as a _praktische Frau_, be sure she's
frightful in every way--ugly and dull. The uglier she is the
_praktischer_ she is. Oh," said Trudi, casting up her eyes, "how
terrible, how tragic, to be an ugly woman!" Then, bringing her gaze down
again to Anna's face, she added, "My flat in Hanover is all pinks and
blues--the most becoming rooms you can imagine. I look so nice in them."

"Pinks and blues? That is just what I want here. Can't I get any in
Stralsund?"

Trudi was doubtful. She could not think it possible that anybody should
ever get anything in Stralsund.