"I
knew that Lippo was in good hands. I thought naturally that you would be
able to say the right word to him. You know yourself how he respects
you."
"Oh, yes, that is right," Uncle Philip admitted. "It is not always easy
to say the right word to a little fellow who has the right on his side
and needs to have the other side shown to him, too; he is terribly
pedantic besides, and says that one can't sing a morning song in the
evening, and when he began to wail in his helplessness, it made me
miserable. How should one always just be able to say the right word?"
His sister smiled.
"Do you admit now, Philip, that bringing up children is not a very simple
matter?"
"There is a truth in what you say. On the other hand, it does not look
very terrible, either," the brother said with a glance at Maezli, who was
quietly and peacefully sitting at the table, eating her bread and milk in
the most orderly fashion.
She had been compelled to stop in the middle of breakfast by the
excitement caused by Lippo. It had been very thrilling, but now she
could calmly finish.
Uncle Philip suddenly discovered that the tune set for his departure was
already past. Taking a rapid leave of his sister, he started to rush
off, but she held him for a moment.
"Please, Philip, try to find out for me about the little girl, to whom
she belongs, and with whom she is travelling," she begged him eagerly.
"Please do that for me! If your supposition, that she is Leonore's child
is right, I simply must see her.
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