Fräulein,” answered Iris, gathering up her paints and sweeping aside the litter. “Lynn has made it all by himself.” “I wonder how he stands it,” mused Irving, critically inspecting the butterfly. “I asked him once,” said Iris, “if he liked all the queer things in his house, and he shrugged his shoulders. ‘What good is mine art to me,’ he asked, ‘if it makes me so I cannot live with mine sister? Fredrika likes the gay colours, such as one sees in the fields, but they hurt mine eyes. Still because the tidies and the crazy jug swear to me, it is no reason for me to hurt mine sister’s feelings. We have a large house. Fredrika has the [Pg 70]upstairs and I have the downstairs. When I can no longer stand the bright lights, I can turn mine back and look out of the window, or I can go down in the shop with mine violins. Down there I see no colours and I can put mine feet on all chairs.’” [Pg 70] Lynn laughed, but Margaret, who was listening intently, only smiled sadly. That afternoon, when the boy went up the hill, with the butterfly dangling from his hand by a string, he was greeted with childish cries of delight on either side. Hoping for equal success at the Master’s, he rang the bell, and the Fräulein came to the door. When she saw who it was, her face instantly became hard and forbidding. “Mine brudder is not home,” she said, frostily. “I know,” answered Lynn, with a winning smile, “but I came to see you. See, I made this for you.” Wonder and delight were in her eyes as she took it from his outstretched hand. “For me?” “Yes, all for you. I made it.” “You make this for me by yourself alone?” “No, Miss Temple helped me.” [Pg 71] [Pg 71] “Miss Temple,” repeated the Fräulein, “she is most kind. And you likewise,” she hastened to add. “It will be of a niceness if Miss Temple and you shall come to mine house to tea to-morrow evening.”
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