. Fromm's inside. Our home was
only one-storied, with wide rooms, and broad corridors, a courtyard and
a garden: here we had to enter first by a narrow hall: then to ascend a
winding stair, that would not admit two abreast. Then followed a rapid
succession of small and large doors, so that when we came out upon the
balconied corridor, and I gazed down into the deep, narrow courtyard, I
could not at all imagine how I had reached that point, and still less
how I could ever find my way out. "Father" Fromm led us directly from
the corridor into the reception room, where two candles were burning
(two in our honor), and the table laid for "gouter." It seemed they had
expected us earlier. Two women were seated at the window, Mrs. Fromm and
her mother. Mrs. Fromm was a tall slender person; she had grey curls (I
don't know why I should not call them "Schneckles," for that is their
name) in front, large blue eyes, a sharp German nose, a prominent chin
and a wart below her mouth.

The "Gross-mamma" was the exact counterpart of Mrs. Fromm, only about
thirty years older, a little more slender, and sharper in feature: she
had also grey "Schneckles"--though I did not know until ten years later
that they were not her own:--she too had that wart, though in her case
it was on the chin.

In a little low chair was sitting that certain personage with whom they
wished to exchange me.

Fanny was my junior by a year:--she resembled neither father nor mother,
with the exception that the family wart, in the form of a little brown
freckle, was imprinted in the middle of her left cheek. During the whole
time that elapsed before our arrival here I had been filled with
prejudices against her, prejudices which the sight of her made only more
alarming. She had an ever-smiling, pink and white face, mischievous blue
eyes, and a curious snub-nose; when she smiled, little dimples formed in
her cheeks and her mouth was ever ready to laugh. When she did laugh,
her double row of white teeth sparkled; in a word she was as ugly as the
devil.

All three were busy knitting as we entered. When the door opened, they
all put down their knitting. I kissed the hands of both the elder
ladies, who embraced me in return, but my attention was entirely devoted
to the little lively witch, who did not wait a moment, but ran to meet
grandmother, threw herself upon her neck, and kissed her passionately;
then, bowing and curtseying before us, kissed Lorand twice, actually