Heidi
She was not long getting ready for it was an unusual summons from her
grandfather. She put on her smart Frankfurt dress and soon went down,
but when she saw her grandfather she stood still, gazing at him in
astonishment. "Why, Grandfather!" she exclaimed, "I never saw you look
like that before! and the coat, with the silver buttons! Oh, you do
look nice in your Sunday coat!"
The old man smiled and replied, "And you too; now come along!" He took
Heidi's hand and together they walked down the mountain side. The bells
were ringing in every direction now, sounding louder and fuller as they
neared the valley, and Heidi listened to them with delight. "Hark,
Grandfather! it's like a great festival!"
The congregation had already assembled and the singing had begun when
Heidi and her grandfather entered the church at Doerfli and sat down
at the back. But before the hymn was over every one was nudging his
neighbor and whispering, "Do you see? Alm-Uncle is in church!"
Soon everybody in the church knew of Alm-Uncle's presence, and the
women kept on turning round to look and quite lost their place in
the singing. At the close of the service Alm-Uncle took Heidi by the
hand, and on leaving the church made his way towards the pastor's
house; the rest of the congregation looked curiously after him, some
even following to see whether he went inside the pastor's house, which
he did. Then they collected in groups and talked over this strange
event, keeping their eyes on the pastor's door, watching to see
whether Alm-Uncle came out looking angry and quarrelsome, or as if the
interview had been a peaceful one, for they could not imagine what had
brought the old man down, and what it all meant. Some, however, adopted
a new tone and expressed their opinion that Alm-Uncle was not so bad
after all as they thought, "for see how carefully he took the little
one by the hand." And others responded and said they had always thought
people had exaggerated about him, that if he was so downright bad he
would be afraid to go inside the pastor's house.
Meanwhile Alm-Uncle had gone into the pastor's house and knocked at the
study door. The pastor came out and shook hands warmly with him, and
Alm-Uncle was unable at first to speak, for he had not expected such
a friendly reception. At last he collected himself and said, "I have
come to ask you, pastor, to forget the words I spoke to you when you
called on me, and to beg you not to owe me ill-will for having been so
obstinately set against your well-meant advice. You were right, and I
was wrong, but I have now made up my mind to follow your advice and to
find a place for myself at Doerfli for the winter, for the child is not
strong enough to stand the bitter cold up on the mountain. And if the
people down here look askance at me, as at a person not to be trusted,
I know it is my own fault."
The pastor's kindly eyes shone with pleasure. He pressed the old
man's hand in his, and said with emotion, "Neighbor, I am greatly
rejoiced. You will not repent coming to live with us again; as for
myself you will always be welcome as a dear friend and neighbor, and I
look forward to our spending many a pleasant winter evening together
and we will find some nice friends too for the little one." And the
pastor laid his hand kindly on the child's curly head and took her by
the hand as he walked to the door with the old man. He did not say
good-bye to him till they were standing outside, so that all the people
loitering about saw him shake hands as if parting reluctantly from
his best friend. The door had hardly shut behind him before the whole
congregation now came forward to greet Alm-Uncle, every one striving to
be the first to shake hands with him. Most of his friends accompanied
him and Heidi some way up the mountain, and each as they bid him
good-bye made him promise that when he next came down he would without
fail come and call. As the old man at last stood alone with the child,
watching their retreating figures, there was a light upon his face as
if reflected from some inner sunshine of heart. Heidi looking up at him
with her clear, steady eyes, said, "Grandfather, you look nicer and
nicer today, I never saw you quite like that before."
"Do you think so," he answered with a smile. "Well, yes, Heidi, I am
happier today than I deserve, happier than I had thought possible; it
is good to be at peace with God and man! God was good to me when he
sent you to my hut."
When they reached Peter's home the grandfather opened the door and
walked straight in. "Good-morning, Grandmother," he said, "I think we
shall have to do some more patching up before the autumn winds come."
"Well, if it is not Uncle!" cried the grandmother in pleased surprise.
"That I should live to see such a thing! and now I can thank you for
all that you have done for me. May God reward you! may God reward you!"
She stretched out a trembling hand to him, and the grandfather shook
it warmly.
At this moment Peter rushed in, evidently in a great hurry, knocking
his head violently against the door in his haste, so that everything in
the room rattled. Gasping and breathless he stood still after this and
held out a letter. This was another great event, for such a thing had
never happened before; the letter was addressed to Heidi and had been
delivered at the post-office in Doerfli. They all sat down round the
table to hear what was in it, for Heidi opened it at once and read it
without hesitation. The letter was from Clara, who wrote that the house
had been so dull since Heidi left that she did not know what to do, and
she had at last persuaded her father to take her to the baths at Ragatz
in the coming autumn; grandmamma had arranged to join them there, and
they both were looking forward to paying her and her grandfather a
visit. And grandmamma sent a further message to Heidi which was that
the latter had done quite right to take the rolls to the grandmother,
and so that she might not have to eat them dry, she was sending some
coffee, which was already on its way, and grandmamma hoped when she
came to the Alm in the autumn that Heidi would take her to see her old
friend.
There were exclamations of pleasure and astonishment on hearing this
news and the afternoon soon passed in discussing plans for the coming
visit.
Then the old man and Heidi started back up the mountain, promising
the grandmother that they would come again next day. As they had
been greeted with the bells when they made their journey down in the
morning, so now they were accompanied by the peaceful evening chimes as
they climbed to the hut, which had quite a Sunday-like appearance as it
stood bathed in the light of the low evening sun.
CHAPTER XV
A GREAT DISAPPOINTMENT
When Autumn came Clara was not so well and the doctor advised Mr.
Sesemann to postpone the visit to Heidi till the following spring.
"I know how you hate to deny your child anything and especially this
trip that she has so set her heart upon," said the kind-hearted old
doctor, "but you must make up your mind to it, Sesemann. Clara has
not had such a bad summer as this last one, for years. Only the worst
results would follow from the fatigue of such a journey, and it is
out of the question for her. If we want to give the child a chance of
recovery we must use the utmost care and watchfulness."
Mr. Sesemann, who had listened to the doctor in sad and submissive
silence, now suddenly jumped up. "Doctor," he said, "tell me truly:
have you really any hope for her final recovery?"
The doctor shrugged his shoulders. "Very little," he replied quietly.
"But, friend, think of my trouble. You still have a beloved child to
look for you and greet you on your return home. You do not come back to
an empty house and sit down to a solitary meal."
The once bright and cheery doctor was now a broken-hearted man. He
could not get over the loss of his daughter who had died some months
before, and who had been his sole and constant companion for many years.
Mr. Sesemann, who had been striding up and down the room, suddenly
paused beside his friend and laying his hand on his shoulder said:
"Doctor, I have an idea. How would it be for you to go, and pay Heidi a
visit in our name? You need a change of scene. I cannot bear to see you
so sad; you are no longer the same man."
The doctor was taken aback at this sudden proposal and wanted to make
objections, but his friend gave him no time to say anything. He was
so delighted with his idea, that he seized the doctor by the arm and
drew him into Clara's room. She held out her hand to him as he came
up to her; he took a seat beside her, and her father also drew up his
chair, and taking Clara's hand in his began to talk to her of the
Swiss journey and how he himself had looked forward to it. He passed
as quickly as he could over the main point that it was now impossible
for her to undertake it, for he dreaded the tears that would follow;
but he went on without pause to tell her of his new plan, and dwelt on
the great benefit it would be to his friend if he could be persuaded to
take this holiday.
The tears were indeed swimming in the blue eyes, although Clara
struggled to keep them down for her father's sake, but it was a
bitter disappointment to give up the journey, the thought of which
had been her only joy and solace during the lonely hours of her long
illness. She knew, however, that her father would never refuse her a
thing unless he was certain that it would be harmful for her. So she
swallowed her tears as well as she could and turned her thoughts to the
one hope still left her. Taking the doctor's hand and stroking it, she
said pleadingly,--
"Dear doctor, you will go and see Heidi, won't you? and then you can
come and tell me all about it, what it is like up there, and what Heidi
and the grandfather, and Peter and the goats do all day. I know them
all so well! And then you can take what I want to send to Heidi; I have
thought about it all, and also something for the grandmother. Do pray
go, dear doctor, and I will take as much cod liver oil as you like."
Whether this promise finally decided the doctor it is impossible to
say, but it is certain that he smiled and said,--
"Then I must certainly go, Clara, for you will then get as plump and
strong as your father and I wish to see you. And have you decided when
I am to start?"
"Tomorrow morning--early if possible," replied Clara.
"Yes, she is right," put in Mr. Sesemann, "the sun is shining and the
sky is blue, and there is no time to be lost; it is a pity to miss a
single one of these days on the mountain."
The doctor could not help laughing. "You will be reproaching me next
for not being there already; well I must go and make arrangements for
getting off."
But Clara would not let him go until she had given him endless messages
for Heidi, and had explained all he was to look at so as to give her an
exact description on his return. She would pack the presents she had
already bought, and send them to his house later.
The doctor promised to obey Clara's directions in every particular;
he would start some time during the following day if not the first
thing in the morning, and would bring back a faithful account of his
experiences and of all he saw and heard.
He was hastening off when he met Miss Rottermeyer just returning from a
walk. He informed her of his intended journey, begging her in his most
conciliatory voice to pack up the parcels for Heidi as she alone knew
how to pack. And then he took his leave.
Clara quite expected to have a long tussle with Miss Rottermeyer
before she would get the latter to consent to sending all the things
that she had collected as presents for Heidi. But this time she was