Anyone who is homeless has to remain so always, and it is
terrible. That is what the woman said, and I believe her. How should
one find a home if one can't look for one?"
Leonore had never before broken out into such passionate grief. Mrs.
Maxa looked at her very sorrowfully.
"She is a real Wallerstaetten at the bottom of her heart," she said to
herself. "That will mean more struggles for her than I thought."
At a sign from her the children plainly understood that she asked them to
go into the garden for a little while. Sitting down beside Leonore, she
took her hand between her own and waited till the violent outbreak had
ceased.
Then she said tenderly: "Oh, Leonore, don't you remember what you told me
once when you were ill and I was sitting on your bed? You told me that
you found a song among your mother's music which always comforted you
when you seemed to lose courage and confidence in God. You said that it
always made you feel that He was not forgetting you and your brother, and
that he is looking after you in whatever way is best for you, even if you
can't recognize it now. Have you forgotten this? Can you tell me your
favorite verse in it?"
"Oh, yes, I can," said Leonore, "it is the verse:
God, who disposest all things well,
I want but what thou givest me,
Oh how can we thine acts foretell,
When Thou art far more wise than we?
"Yes, I always feel better when I think of that," Leonore added after a
time in a totally changed voice.
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