Lela is standing in front of a flower shop. Cyclamen? No, fluttery, she thinks. She wants to give Fritz's Mother something. Flowers, of course. An admirer gives flowers to beloved one. Then she knows that she is loved. But the Mother-inwardly Manuela calls her "the Mother" only-says Lela is a baby still. Why isn't she an adult yet? Manuela burns with impatience to be an adult. Fritz—who is older than she—is a child. Didn't he cry recently? A boy. He tried to hide it, but Lela saw red eyes. They left together in the evening, all three of them, after Helling had begrudgingly permitted it, and the two children were allowed to hold the Mother's right and left arm. At Lela's door, Frau Lennartz invited her to come this afternoon. So now she wanted to bring something with her. Lela searched the shop window. Carnations? No, they had rings around their necks to keep the individual petals from falling off, and their red was bright and screaming. Actually, it should be lilies. But there were no lilies. There were very vain, conceited tulips with cracking, fat leaves. No, not these. Mimosa? Yes, if one could buy two armfuls of them that Mum would think Lela was bringing a forest of little yellow balls of sunshine. But a little? No. She couldn't take many; she didn't have the money for it.
She dived into her pocket and entered the shop undecided. The azaleas were too expensive. They also fell so quickly. Then she noticed a single, tall white candle in the corner, half-blossomed, a hyacinth of exceptional height. A tall, full brush-like of bottle cleaner on a firm, angular stem. With splendid, rich green leaves. A pure, strong scent emanated from the plant. Wrapped in a lot of soft, white paper, the flower was placed in Lela's arms. Carefully she carried it home, up to her room.
She placed the pot by the window. Bright and cool. As soon as she had removed the paper, the whole room was already fragrant. "Dear flower," she said quietly. "Do you need water?" she asked, feeling the damp earth. "No, the lady is taken care of," she said laughing. The thick brush-like of bottle cleaner seemed to wiggle its head. Lela jumped down the stairs whistling.
Unfortunately, her cheerfulness was checked. There was silence at dinner today. That was like this sometimes. Either Dad had "worries" or "debts", or Helling had had a row with Marie, or Bertram had been given a speech for bad behaviour. Lela didn't want to be touched any further and spooned her soup with quiet contentment. It tasted wonderful today. Lela was hungry. Since no one else seemed to have an appetite, her appetite aroused astonishment and seemed almost like an impropriety. But everything was just the same for her today. In an hour she would be with Mother Inge, and then everything would be all right after all. What would she say to the lady Hyacinth? Would she like it? Would she see how much and what Lela would like to do for her, if only she could? And what she would give her when she grew up. The chairs were moved from the table and Lela had already had her hand on the door handle when Dad—because of a meaningful look from Fräulein von Helling—called Lela back. He had to clear his throat. His voice was hoarse. Bertram squeezed out of the room, and Helling sailed out.
"Yes, Dad?"
Dad wiped his mouth with the napkin and chewed on a piece of toasted bread. He didn't look at Lela, but asked her,
"Where are you running off to again? Can't you stay with your father for a while?"
Startled, Lela sat down opposite him at the table.
"Yes, Dad, but I thought Helling . . ."
"Oh, Helling," came disdainfully from over there. And then, improving,
"Nah, Fräulein von Helling has no time today, and I have to talk to you."
Lela was frightened to the core. Premonition filled her. Now, now something was coming towards her! Only what . . . ?
She didn't have to wait long, Meinhardis had already thought everything out. And as if memorised, it came out, "Well, you can't go on like this, my child. You're completely wild. I have heard all kinds of things that I don't like, and it is my duty as a father to point out to you that your behaviour is outrageous. Not at all that of a young lady; you are endangering your reputation by the way you behave."
Lela felt hot; Helling, that was Helling; that wasn't Dad talking at all, that was Aunt Luise, that was . . .
"Your aunts—who love you—and Fräulein von Helling—who wants the best for you—have decided that you should be sent to a boarding school."
"I, Dad?" Just a mad thought: not now, not now, please, please! A few days ago it wouldn't have mattered to her, but not now, not away from Mother Inge!
"Well, God, child, don't look at me like this, it's not so bad. Your Mother was also in such a boarding school, and mos
t girls get away from home at one time or another. We thought of Hochdorf. That's supposed to be nice, and you'll be close to Aunt Irene, so she'll keep an eye on you."
Lela pulled herself together, "Dad?"
"Yes, my child?"
"Please, please, dear Dad, please not now!" That was all that could come out of her.
Meinhardis smiled a little. There he had the proof; Helling seemed to be right; the girl was positively in love. Reassuringly, he put his hand on the child's.
"Well, it doesn't matter when? Why not now? Then you've got the beginning behind you and the thing is done."
"Please, Dad, I can't leave now, you don't know . . ."
"But Lela, child, I know. Fritz Lennartz has turned my daughter's head. But I'm not going to let my kid suddenly go crazy because of some foolish boy."
Lela looked at her father, speechless. She shook her head gravely, and she replied firmly,
"No, Dad, it's not because of Fritz; it's because of his Mama."
Meinhardis burst out laughing. He stood up, grabbed Lela by the shoulders, and still laughing, he said, "Oh, you're great! Girl, you're just like me! You have an excuse handy! Nah, don't make fool of me! Kid, you're amusing me! But, you know, there's one thing you still have to learn. If you want to talk your way out of it, you have to do better. This way, no one will fall for it.
Lela had silently fallen back onto the chair from which her father had pulled her up in enthusiasm. Now he went around the table, poured Lela a sip of wine, pushed the glass towards her, "Here, have a drink with me!"
She moved her glass towards his mechanically.
"Now go to Helling. You still probably have to discuss all sorts of things; maybe you need something else for the trip."
Now something had to be done quickly. And Lela plucked up the courage.
"Dad, I have to go out today; I—I'm invited."
Meinhardis looked out the window.
"Well, then where?"
"To Frau Lennartz's."
"Nah, my child, that's over now; first and foremost, you'll not go there."
"But I promised."
"Well, then we'll just send Minna there, and I'll write a few polite words and apologise for you." Meinhardis jumped up energetically.
As he looked into Lela's face, who now rose as she were, dead tired, grey in the face, as if she suddenly grown old, he was frightened. He slapped her on the shoulder soundly.
"Well, baby, then what! It will all pass! Pay attention, once you're in Hochdorf, you'll have forgotten all about it!"
At the door he turned back again. A thought had occurred to him. "You," he said, looking at her seriously, "don't do anything stupid! Promise me that you will behave well. House arrest. Going out only with Helling. Understood?"
The answer came tonelessly from over there, "Yes, Dad."