Veronica And Other Friends | Page 2

her "Fortune rose" to her little Veronica, and it was
sure to occupy the child for a long time in perfect contentment.
"Look, this is the way you must do," said the child, as she pulled with
her fingers a small strip of paper that stood out from the side of the
picture; suddenly before the astonished eyes of the boy the red full
calix of the rose flew open, disclosing a glittering golden verse that lay
in the centre of the flower. Then Veronica pushed the paper-strip back,

and the rose folded its leaves and was a perfect flower again.
Quite dazzled by this wonderful magic the little boy stared with
amazement at the rose, and then seized it to try for himself.
While the children were playing, Veronica's mother was being laid in
her grave. After awhile Cousin Judith came back into the room. She
was "cousin" to all Tannenegg, though related to no one. She came
back to take the rose, and put it into the hook, which she replaced in the
cup-board. "Sit still awhile longer, children;" she said, "and presently
your mother will come for you. Be good and do not trouble her, for she
has enough to bear already."
It was the little boy's mother she meant, and the children knew it. They
knew also very well, that they must be good and not trouble her, for
they had seen her for two days going about the house with eyes red
with weeping. Presently she entered the room, and took the children
one by each hand, and went to the door with them. She seemed to be
struggling with sad and heavy thoughts. She usually spoke cheerily to
the children, but now she was silent, and every now and then she
furtively wiped away a tear.
"Where are we going, mother?" asked the boy.
"We must go to the doctor's, Dietrich," she answered, "your father is
very ill." And she led them along the foot path toward the little town,
where the white houses shone in the sunlight. Fohrensee was a new
place, that had sprung up as if in one night from the soil, and now stood
there a great white spot against the dark hillside. Not long before, it had
been only a little cluster of houses standing in a protected spot on the
side of the hill, not very far below Tannenegg. It was so situated that
the biting north wind, which blew so sharply over the exposed houses
of Tannenegg, did not reach the nook where little Fohrensee lay bathed
in the full light of the sun. But the little place was high enough to be
visited by all the cooling breezes, and was healthy, pure and fresh, to a
remarkable degree. When, not long before this time, an enterprising
inn-keeper discovered its health-giving qualities, and built an inn there,
guests filled it so rapidly that he soon put up another. Soon, one after

another, little inns sprang up, as from the ground, and then a crowd of
trades-people came up from the valley, and settled around, for the
number of guests constantly increased, and the strangers found the spot
so favorable to health, that it became a favorite winter resort. And thus
the obscure little Fohrensee became, in a few years, a large and
flourishing town, stretching out in every direction.
Gertrude, however, walking sturdily along with the children, was not
going as far as Fohrensee, with its shining white houses. She turned off
into a foot path that led to several scattered dwellings up on the hillside,
and soon reached an open space, on which stood a handsome house,
with large stables near by. Out from the stable, a hostler had just led a
spirited horse, which he began to harness into a light wagon. Instantly
the little boy freed his hand from his mother's, planted himself before
the horse, and could not be induced to move.
"Stay there then, if you want to," said his mother, "we will go on to the
house; but you must take care not to go too near the horse."
The doctor was just hurrying out from his office; he must have had a
long distance to go, for he was starting off before the usual time for
office hours was over. Gertrude apologized, and begged the doctor to
excuse her for not having come earlier to see him; she had been very
busy with her invalid, and could not get away before. "Never mind; as
you have come, I will wait a few minutes," said the physician, briefly;
"Come in; how is your husband?"
Gertrude went into the room, and told the doctor about her sick
husband. It was Steffan, a strong, young man, on whom the mountain
sickness had seized with unusual