That Christmas was very near at hand was apparent by more than one outward and visible sign. "Though they don't begin to prepare for it nearly as early as we do," remarked Mary Lee.
"I think it is nicer not to," said Jack, "for there they begin so soon that it fools you into thinking it is very near when it is weeks off, and you get so used to seeing Christmas things that you forget they aren't there all the time."
"The first thing we must do to make us feel that Christmas is coming is to see the krippen," said Miss Helen.
"What are krippen?" asked Jean.
"They are representations of the Nativity, generally, though sometimes they represent other religious subjects such as the Flight into Egypt, or the heralding angels appearing to the shepherds. They are often very elaborate, and the best display of them is at the National Museum, where you can see fac-similes not only of German krippen but of Italian and Sicilian ones. The different churches also have them. There is one of the Advent now at the Theatinerkirche. You twins will be delighted with the little figures which are sometimes really wonderful."
They all started out the very next day to view the krippen, stopping first at St. Cajetans-Hofkirche on the Theatinerstrasse, where the children stood in awe and delight before the scene of John the Baptist preaching the coming of our Lord. The tiny figures were very perfect, the centurion soldiers and listening multitude were artistically grouped, a little brook of running water made a pleasant murmur as it wound its way along. It was not more than four inches wide, but it added much to the scene. The whole was lighted and stood out in strong contrast to the dim church in which it was enshrined. As Miss Helen dropped some pfennige into the cup ready for contributions a sepulchral voice in some dark corner murmured: "Gott sei dank."
Through the lower rooms of the Museum, where it was impossible not to linger a little to see the many curious and interesting things, the party took its way to the upper floor, where through a dark labyrinthine way they passed to find the lighted krippen set up on each side. There were a great many, and it took a long time to make the rounds. Some were quite simple; others were very elaborate. There were street scenes with every conceivable sort of figure, wonderful interiors and exteriors where the Wise Men were shown in all the pomp of Eastern magnificence; there were gardens and palaces, temples and churches, processions, and, above all, the rude stable with the manger and the Holy Family.
"They are the most marvellous things I ever saw," said first one and then another of the girls. "Such perfect little figures, such fascinating landscapes, such variety of expression and action, such typical costumes."
"The Sicilian ones are the best," decided Nan, "though those of southern Italy are about as good."
"I wouldn't have missed it for anything," declared Jo, as they came to the last one. "You are a duck, Miss Helen, to think of bringing us here. I am going to haunt the churches from now on to see how many krippen I can discover."
"Oh, can't we go back and do it all over?" asked Jean.
"Dear me," said Miss Helen, "I thought we had made a very careful examination of them all."
"But I do like them so much and I can't remember them all by seeing them just once."
"Perhaps we can come again," her mother comforted her by saying. "I think this must do for now, and there will be others in the churches."
"They will be changed quite often at the Theatinerkirche, I am told," said Miss Helen. "I believe there is a new krippe each week."
"Oh, there comes a new word. I suppose krippe is the singular and krippen the plural," said Mary Lee.
"Naturally. The word I find means literally a manger. We can see a very interesting display of krippen, Christmas ornaments and such things down on Sonnenstrasse and the Sendlingeethorplatz. The peasants make the little krippen and bring them in for sale just before Christmas."
"Oh, do they have them anywhere but in the churches?"
"Yes, indeed. A great many private houses have them and they are considered quite as much an institution in some families as the Christmas tree, though of course, these would be the Roman Catholic families. You can see them of all sorts and sizes. Munich is Roman Catholic, you know, although there are many Protestants here and many Protestant churches."
"I should love to have a krippe to take home even if I am not a Roman Catholic, mother," said Jean. "Couldn't we have one?"
"I don't see any reason for not having one, although it would be rather hard to pack. We will see about it."
"And may we go this afternoon to look at them?"
"Haven't you had enough krippen for one day? I think we'd better wait especially as the choice will be better a little later on," her aunt told her.
The Christmas trees were arriving, and as the party proceeded homeward they saw them being set up in their little stands, in every square and open space.
"They do everything here in such a nice pleasant way," said Nan, as she and her aunt walked through the forest of trees standing erect all along the Maximilianplatz. "At home now, they throw the trees in a pile or crowd them together in any old place. Here each tree looks as if it were really growing, and that this were an avenue of them growing just for Christmas. You can so easily see exactly how they look and can pick out what you like without any trouble. How good and Christmassy it smells, and what quantities of trees there are, then there are more coming. Can they sell so many, I wonder? The whole city seems to be full of them."
"When you consider that nearly every family in Munich will probably have a tree, you can imagine the number will be somewhat lessened by Christmas Eve." And true enough, as it proved, there was scarcely a tree left, at least on the Maximilianplatz, by the day before Christmas. More than one of the number went to the Pension Bauer, and one was purchased for the family of Frau Pfeffer.
Before this, however, there was the expedition to Sonnenstrasse to see the collection of Christmas-tree ornaments, krippen and such things which the country folk had brought for sale, and which were set out in small booths all along the street. Jean's fancy fell upon a tiny krippe which she and Jack bore away in triumph.
The days were very short and sunless, so that nightfall came very early, but in spite of that the streets were full of people who filled the big shops, or loitered along the streets, stopping leisurely before the windows to look in, and because it seemed the general custom for every one to go out as soon as it got dark, the Corner family followed suit.
"I suppose they do it to save candles," said Miss Helen. "There is German thrift for you."
"I think it is great fun," said Nan. "Why shouldn't they come out and look at the pretty things? The shop-windows are very attractive especially now, and some of the things are very cheap. I saw a fascinating silver chain on Sonnenstrasse, and it was ever so much cheaper than in other shops in more fashionable parts of the city. It is much handsomer, too. Jo and I gloated over that window."
"That was the one from which we had such difficulty in dragging you, wasn't it?"
"Yes, we saw so many pretty cheap things there, and we wanted to buy them every one. I'd love to give Jo that chain."
"How about giving it to Nan?"
"Oh, it's too expensive to give myself when all I can rake and scrape must go toward buying other things. If I can't get that special chain for Jo, there is another that I think will come within my limit and which she likes quite as well. Don't you love the way the men come sauntering along and stand before the windows? It gives one such a sense of leisure and real enjoyment of life to see them go dawdling about. That one we just passed is going to give his wife furs for Christmas, I know. He is looking at every piece in that window with a critical eye. Oh, Aunt Helen, do look. Did you ever see anything quite like that? A huge sausage dressed up with a huge satin bow, red satin at that, and there is a boiled ham pranked out with blue ribbons and artificial flowers. Truly schinken and wurst are dear to the German heart."
They were coming around by the Karlsthor to enter one of the big department stores where Nan had seen a certain book she wanted to get. "I would like you to see if you don't think it would be a good thing to give to Dr. Paul," she said to her aunt. "He has been so kind and good in so many ways, just like a big brother. I must give him something, and as he is very fond of dogs I thought I would get that funny book of dachshunds for him."
Miss Helen agreed that this would answer admirably.
"There are some dear little pieces of peasant pottery out on Turkenstrasse," Nan went on. "I think they are lovely. On the next street to the pottery shop are some queer wooden boxes which are made by the peasants, too. I want two or three of them. One I shall give to Juliet Hoyt, and a little jar to Mrs. Hoyt. I haven't decided what I shall give to Maurice."
"You certainly are finding out all the odd corners and out-of-the-way shops," said her aunt.
"I snoop around when I am coming home from my lessons, and Frau Burg-Schmidt told me about the boxes."
"I should like to see them, myself."
They decided that they would have time to hunt up the two shops, and continued their walk, coming home with mysterious packages which they refused to show to any one, and which they promptly stowed away with their other Christmas purchases.
From this out there was much whispering and many remarks, such as: "Nan and I are going out together this afternoon; you needn't come, Jean." Or, "Mother, would you mind not going with us to-day?" But there were other times when all must go together to select what was intended for Bertha Metzger and her little cousins. After talking the matter over Mrs. Corner and Miss Helen decided that it would be better for the girls to contribute from their regular Christmas money, and not receive any extra amount. "They will be much happier knowing the joy of sacrifice," Mrs. Corner said. "They are perfectly willing to go without a tree for themselves if we will furnish one for the Pfeffers, and each has agreed to be entirely satisfied with a modest present from her sisters, so as to have more to spend for Bertha."
"You are a wise mother, Mary," said Miss Helen. "I am sure the girls will enjoy their Christmas much more for having to exercise a little self-denial. I don't suppose I need be limited in making my gifts, need I?" she asked laughing. "You don't want to discipline me, do you?"
"I don't believe you need it," returned Mrs. Corner affectionately.
There were many interviews with Frau Pfeffer, and on the morning before Christmas Eve all five of the little Pfeffers with Bertha were sent to spend the day with a neighbor, and then the Corners took possession. The tree was set up and each had a hand in the trimming, the twins feeling very important, as this was the first time in their lives that they had been allowed to take part in such a performance. When it was finished they all stood off to see the effect of their handiwork.
"It's perfectly lovely," cried Jack ecstatically. "I'm glad we made up our minds to have this instead of one of our own, for it is much more fun to trim it for some one else."
"The little angel on top is beautiful," said Jean, "and that star on the very tip is so bright. Yes, I am glad they have the tree instead of us, but I am glad we can have our stockings, Jack."
Jack agreed that she would not like to give up the fun of hanging up her stocking, and they stood looking at the tree while Nan, Mary Lee and Jo were arranging the Christmas packages. Besides the warm clothes for each member of the family, there were toys and a basket of substantial food.
"Do put in something sweet and unwholesome," Nan had begged when her mother and aunt were packing the basket.
"Need it be unwholesome because it is sweet?" said Mrs. Corner laughing. "If they don't eat too much at once, I am sure it need not be."
"And please don't say we have given foolish things to the children," Nan went on. "The clothes are very important, but after what you and Mrs. Hoyt have given we think they ought to have toys. They are so cheap that they can have a lot. We have only one apiece from each of us."
"I don't think that will be too many," Mrs. Corner decided. "They will enjoy a few much more than an overabundance."
So the foolish toys were added, and stood in proper array with the more sensible gifts.
Railway switches must be turned even on Christmas Day, but Frau Pfeffer had a substitute on Christmas Eve, and could joyfully celebrate that holiday dear to the German nation. It was scarcely less dear to the party of Americans who gathered in Pension Bauer. That they might have more to spend on the Pfeffers they had agreed not to invest more than fifty pfennige on any but the Pfeffers, outside their own families, and it had been great fun to see what could be had for the small sum of twelve cents. But Munich was full of cheap and pretty articles, and the assortment was varied, Nan's peasant boxes and jars showing up finely. These presents were to be distributed on Christmas Eve, German fashion, while the family were to have their own celebration on Christmas morning, as they always did at home.
"You can't come into the sitting-room," said Miss Helen speaking through a crack in the door as the children returned from their morning at Frau Pfeffer's.
"You can't come in here," called Mrs. Hoyt poking her head out of the room on the opposite side of the hallway.
"Dear me! Where can we go? What secrets!" cried they all, only too glad there were such. "I suppose we can go into our own rooms," said Nan. "Come on, girls."
The odor of küchen filled the air, and there was an excitement in the frequent scurryings to and fro of the maids.
"Who all are coming to-night to help you celebrate?" asked Juliet Hoyt who joined the others in Nan's room after the work of tying up packages was finished, and it was nearing supper time.
"Dr. Woods; I think that is all," Mary Lee told her. "You see we are quite a party in ourselves, seven in all, and he will make eight."
"Four of Maurice's friends are coming," Juliet said, "so we shall be seven; that makes fifteen in all. Not a small number of Americans to get together. Of course Fräulein Bauer will have a tree. She has asked us all to come and see it, and she has been baking wonderful things, the maids say. Those silly boys, I know, have been spending every penny of their allowances on us."
"They shouldn't do it," said Nan severely. "We have only fifty pfennige presents for them."
"They would do it. Mamma tried to reason with them, but it was no use, and I suppose we shall be deluged with candy, flowers and books. Mamma laid down the law and told them we would positively accept no other kind of gift, and that she would countenance no extravagance."
"I am glad she did," said Nan. "It would be very embarrassing if they gave any of us handsome gifts."
"It is sort of fun to be in here talking about boys," remarked Jo. "It reminds me of our boarding-school days. I declare I could eat something good and homey this minute. It seems hours since we had dinner, and I have had a long walk since."
Nan jumped down from the bed, where she was sitting with her feet curled under her, and fumbled among some packages in a drawer, presently bringing out a bag which she tossed over to Jo. "There," she said, "that's all you'll get. You must save up for this evening for we are going to have an extra fine supper."
Jo opened the bag, fished out a pretzel and began to nibble it. "Just the thing to keep me occupied," she said, "and yet not too sustaining. Shouldn't you like to see the little Pfeffers when they discover the tree?"
"And Bertha," put in Jack.
"Bertha, of course; she counts in with the rest."
"Frau Pfeffer was so excited that I am sure she has been sending cars off on the wrong track all day," said Mary Lee.
"She is to leave at six and it is that now," said Nan. "Dear me, it seems much later for it has been dark so long. I wonder what she will do first, look at her presents or light up the tree."
"The first thing she will probably get something to eat, for she will be hungry, and so will the children. I suppose Bertha and the five will be standing waiting outside when she gets there," Mary Lee decided.
"But will she let them in till the tree is lighted?" said Jack. "It would be so much more of a surprise."
"We shall find out to-morrow, for I am sure we shall see some of them," said Nan. "It is really Christmas Eve for it is as dark as a pocket. Don't let's have any light. Froliche Weihnacht, girls! Now let's be cozy and do something to suit the season till we are called to supper. Jo, you're nearest the stove, just put a shovel or two of coal on that fire, so we can be good and warm. I don't think it has died down entirely."
Jo opened the door of the great tiled affair which stood in the corner, and peeped in. "I think there is enough left to start up again," she said as she threw on a few shovelfuls of coal. "I used to stand in such awe of these great porcelain stoves, or ovens, as they call them here, but they are not so bad, and when I get home I shall deny the report that one cannot keep warm in winter anywhere in Europe. I'm sure we have been warm enough. There, it is going ahead splendidly. What shall we do to be in keeping with Christmas Eve?"
"Suppose we sing Stille Nacht," suggested Juliet. And they began the good old German Christmas hymn, their young voices sounding sweetly to those busy in the next room. Then, as if answering, from the street below a band struck up the same air. The hymn was scarcely finished before Anna came along the corridor, knocking at each door to say: "Zu tisch, bitte," and they trooped out to the feast of good things which the Fräulein had prepared for this special occasion, and which was served earlier than usual since a second supper would be ready about nine o'clock.
The severe Miss Smart from Chelsea had departed to spend the holiday in the mountains, thither, too, the Herr doctor and his mother had gone, and the jovial German was taking supper with friends, so only the American contingency appeared at table. Herr Eckler was to return later, Fräulein Bauer told them.
"When can we go to the sitting-room?" asked the twins as they arose from the table.
"In a few minutes," Mrs. Corner told them.
"You must visit us when you have exhausted your own surprises," said Mrs. Hoyt, "and then we will all go and look at the Fräulein's tree."
The Corner children and Jo gathered around their door on one side the hallway; Juliet and Maurice with the four boys, who came in a bunch, on the other waited till at the word "Ready!" all rushed into the rooms opened to them.
"A tree after all!" cried the twins.
"Yes, it was the good Fräulein who sent it in all trimmed," Mrs. Corner told them, "and she has given us each one of these."
"These" proved to be wonderful gingerbread figures such as all had seen in bakeshop windows for the past fortnight, and which were really marvels of the baker's art. Then came the little presents from the Hoyts and their boy friends. For Nan a small glass with a München kindel upon it; a little can with the inscription "I hope you will enjoy your can o' tea (K-no-te)," this from Maurice, and from Juliet a photograph of Nan's favorite tenor. For the others were various gifts: wooden peasant boxes, little steins, queer figures, odd pictures. Jean had a whole German dinner in imitation, sausages, cabbage, cheese, fruit and cakes all set on the tiniest of plates and looking really good enough to eat. The schoolboys sent in a huge box of candies with a ridiculous little piano for Nan, a tiny dachshund for Mary Lee, a nest of the funny figures they called the "Spazieren-gehen family" for Jo. An invitation to a Christmas play at the Gärtnerplatz theatre signed by the four boys, fell to Jack's share, while for each, including Mrs. Corner and Miss Helen, were flowers.
A rap at the door interrupted the chatter. Juliet put in her head. "Come over and see our show as soon as you can," she said. "We don't want to put out the candles till you come." And all the children followed her leaving their elders to extinguish the candles on their own tree.
Another tree was lighted in the Hoyts' room, and other gingerbread figures stood prominently forth; the Fräulein had treated the Hoyts as generously as the Corners. More candy and flowers from the boys, a delightfully funny calendar for Juliet and a second nest of Spazieren-gehen figures.
The boys were having a great time over their own gifts. Nan and Mary Lee had set their wits to work upon a square wooden box, in the centre of which they had grouped four tiny Max and Moritz figures. These were securely glued on, and from each corner of the lid was a deeply grooved line burnt in the white wood. The inscription read: "From the four Corners to the four schoolboys." Inside the box were four rolls of the Christmas dainty known as mazapan which the girls had wrapped up in this brown paper to imitate sausages. This special sweet had been lately discovered, and the boys had all expressed a wish to taste it.
"Such clever people," said Henry Olcott. "We're going to toss up for the box and the fellow who gets it will be in luck, so he will have to treat the rest."
By the time the candles had burned down came a summons to the dining-room. Another tree met the sight of the children, and a table set out with cakes and a light punch. Herr Eckler had arrived and pretty soon all were dancing, Jack spinning around with the portly Herr in the roundest of round waltzes to the music pounded out by the Fräulein's brother. Dr. Woods arrived late, but joined in the dance, and later the whole party, except Mrs. Corner and the twins, went to the solemn and beautiful service at the Frauenkirche, a fitting close to a German Christmas Eve.
"I like my opera-glasses and bag better than anything, and my lovely chain next," said Nan sitting up in bed to examine her presents. Mrs. Corner and Miss Helen always breakfasted in their own rooms, and on this occasion the girls concluded to do the same, since cocoa and rolls were not difficult to dispose of before the gifts were unwrapped.
"I like my fairy-tale book," came a small voice from the next room.
"What do you like, you Jo Keyes over there?" Nan called out.
No reply came from the head buried in the pillow.
"Here, you Josephine Schlüssel, are you asleep? Why don't you speak up?" Nan picked up a worsted slipper and threw it across the room. The slipper landed on Jo's head and she responded by raising rather a teary face.
"You've all been so perfectly lovely to me," she said, "so much lovelier than they ever are at home. Instead of just giving me fifty pfennige presents as you ought to have done, you've treated me just as if I were one of you."
"Well, you needn't cry about it," said Nan roughly, herself quite overcome by this evidence of feeling on Jo's part. "You are one of us, of course. Tell what you like best, old girl, or I'll throw this other slipper at you, and then I can't get up to-day, for I am never going to set my feet on these cold boards."
"Oh, my kodak, of course," returned Jo. "It was so dear of your Aunt Helen to give it to me, and it is such a beauty. I have always so longed for one. Then that dear chain, Nan, you——"
"Time to hear from you, Mary Lee," cried Nan interrupting further remarks from Jo. "What's your particular wanity?"
Mary Lee hesitated a moment. "I think I like the picture of Miss Dolores in her manta de Manila."
"I knew you'd say that," responded Nan. "I was just waiting to hear. Hallo, Jack, in there, why don't you let us hear from you?"
"I'm coming in to tell you." The answer was prompt, and presently Jack in red wrapper and slippers appeared, stocking in hand. "I'll tell you, Nan, but I won't tell any one else," she said. She came close to the bed and whispered something in Nan's ear. Nan laughed. It was her own present to her little sister which was the one preferred. It was a cunning figure of an owl which Nan had marked: "The moping owl doth to the moon complain." It was like Jack to prefer this. The owl was of the porcelain ware for which Bavaria is well known, and when the head was removed Jack discovered the owl was filled with chocolates, though it was not this fact which made her favor it above the rest of her gifts.
"Come in here with me," said Nan. "There is room enough for two, if we cuddle." She moved over that Jack might snuggle down by her side.
"I think you're mean to leave me," came a plaintive voice from the next room.
"Come get in with me," called Mary Lee; "though you won't have long to stay for we must get up soon if we are going to church."
Jean pattered across the floor and crept in with Mary Lee, to turn out the contents of her stocking for her sister's inspection.
"Did you know you were going to get the chain, Nan?" asked Jack.
"No, indeed, and it is the very one I liked so much. I don't see how Aunt Helen knew."
"She asked Jo; didn't she, Jo?"
"She mought and then again she moughtn't," returned Jo non-committally.
"What did Dr. Paul give you?" Jack asked.
"Oh, didn't you see that lovely great book?" said Nan. "It is called 'Werkes Altes Meister,' and is full of illustrations of all the finest pictures. It is perfectly splendid, but I am afraid he spent more for it than he ought."
"Is he very poor?" asked Jack. "He doesn't look like it."
"Oh, he's not a pauper. Old Dr. Woods is quite well off, but it is expensive for Dr. Paul to take this course over here, and naturally he is not earning anything, and has a proper pride about not calling upon his father for more than is necessary."
"Will he be rich some day?"
"I don't know. I hope he will always have enough, but he is too generous to be very rich."
"I think Carter will have plenty for both of us, don't you?" said Jack innocently. "I wonder if they have Christmas trees in California."
"You silly-billy," replied Nan laughing. "It is time to get up, goosey-lucy, owly-powly. We shall have to hurry or we won't get to church to-day. 'A hitch of your heel and a hitch of your toe' and out you go." She gave Jack a swing out on the floor, and herself sprang from bed. The three elder girls occupied the largest room in which were three beds, while the two younger had a little room next.
They found Mrs. Corner and Miss Helen ready for church when the five appeared in hats and coats. "We've been making holiday plans," said Miss Helen, "and we'll talk about them on the way. What do you all say to a few days in the mountains to look at the winter sports and get a bit more sunshine than we do here?"
"Fine!" exclaimed the Corners, Jo looking a little dubious.
"It's not far to Partenkirchen," Mrs. Corner told them, "and a change will do us all good. Mrs. Hoyt has just stopped in to say that she and her youngsters have decided to go, and some of the boys will go with them. We had some talk about it last night, but hadn't come to any definite decision then. I think a little play won't hurt you, and you will get back to work in season."
"But, Mrs. Corner," said Jo, "could I possibly afford it?"
"Oh, yes, I think you could; the larger the party the better terms we shall be able to make, and it will not be very expensive for a few days. I really think you ought to go, for you might want to write a theme upon the winter sports of Germany, and it might give you a scholarship at Smith College."
Jo smiled. She longed to be one of the party, but could not be sure that she ought. Miss Helen took her arm when they reached the street and the two walked off talking in low tones. By the time they reached the church Jo looked back at Nan and her mother. "I'm going," she said.
It was when they returned from church that they found a row of little Pfeffers, headed by Bertha Metzger, standing waiting for them. Each one following Bertha's example—having been evidently well drilled—bobbed a curtsey and kissed, one after another, the hands of the "gnädiges fräulein" wishing them Froliche Weihnacht, and murmuring a blessing in chorus. This proceeding so amused the twins that they giggled outright, but the others, though embarrassed, took the matter more seriously. Jack would fain have carried off Bertha to see their own tree, but the watchful guardian of the Pfeffers could not be induced to leave her charges for a second, and after answering the questions put to her, marshaled her cousins in order, according to size, and marched them off with a distinct feeling that they had admirably performed their duty. They all looked very comfortable in their new outfits, and were apparently very proud of themselves.
It was a merry crowd which boarded the train the next day for Partenkirchen, and it required the combined efforts of the elder ladies to keep the young people in order. There was much talk of ski-ing and rodeling, and all the young folks were very enthusiastic about trying these amusements.
"Skis are rather expensive," remarked Jo, "and I, for one, shan't buy any, that's certain."
"You can hire them," Nan told her, "and that is what we are all going to do, for who can tell whether we shall like the sport or not? As we are to be over here for only one winter it will not be worth while to tote those great long things all over creation with us."
They had left Munich in a gray mist which shut out all suggestion of sunlight, but when they reached the pretty mountain town of Partenkirchen, at the foot of the Zugspitze, the skies were as blue as summer and the sun was shining brilliantly on the snowy mountainsides. The ride through the Bavarian Highlands had been beautiful indeed, and the spirits of the party, far from lessening, became wilder as they approached the greater heights, so it was a laughing, excited crowd which finally left the train to go to the small hotel where they had engaged board.
Many had arrived before them, and were already testing the toboggan runs, or were flitting along, like birds, upon their skis.
The boys, naturally, were eager to try these new sports, and were soon equipped, to receive many a humiliating tumble before they could become adepts. Juliet was scarcely less ambitious than the boys and was not long in persuading Mary Lee and Jo to fasten on the long skis in order to make a first venture. Nan and the twins contented themselves with sleds upon safe inclines at first, but were so exhilarated by the keen air that they were soon trying longer slopes. Even Mrs. Hoyt came out to join them leaving Mrs. Corner and Miss Helen to enjoy the bright sunlight streaming in at their windows.
In a few days Nan had become as enthusiastic an advocate of ski-ing as the rest. "It is like flying," she declared. "I wish we could do it at home."
"It seems such an impossible and dangerous thing to me," said Miss Helen who had been persuaded to come out to watch the sport.
"It isn't when you know how," replied Nan as she flitted off.
It was a gay company at the little hotel. The mountain air exhilarated every one and though the unusual exercise tired them out, after a hearty supper they were ready for any kind of fun. On New Year's Eve came the climax when the peasants arrived to show their dances and to ask the guests to join in. Jo was nothing loth to accept the young son of mine host as partner, and as he, in embroidered velvet breeches, short Tyrolean jacket and red tie, led off, she was quick enough to imitate the others and made a better dancer than might have been expected in such a wild and rollicking dance as it was. Once she was fairly lifted off her feet, whirled around and set down again before she knew what was happening to her. With the snowy mountains looking down upon them they welcomed in the new year and slept the last sleep they should have at Partenkirchen, for the morrow would take them back to Munich.
Dr. Paul made his appearance the evening of their return. He had been to Dresden for a week, looking into hospital work there and staying with a friend. He was welcomed joyfully and was given an enthusiastic account of winter in the mountains of Bavaria.
"You'd better have gone with us," Mrs. Corner told him. "I am sure it would have done you more good than doing extra work."
"It wasn't all work," returned the doctor, "and besides being deeply interested in what I was doing, I was glad to be with my friend Bob Morgan. He is an old pal of mine, and we have had many a run together. By the way, Nan," he turned toward this person, "I think I may have a clue to your Hans Metzger."
Every one looked interested. "Tell us about it," said Nan.
"Of course it is by no means an unusual name," the doctor went on, "and there may be dozens of them in the community, but as I was in Bob's room at the hospital one day, I picked up a German book, rather a curious old volume on husbandry which was lying on the table. In it I saw the name, Hans Metzger. 'Hallo,' I said, 'where did you get that?'
"'It was left by one of the patients,' said Bob, 'a nice sort of young German whom I attended. I was looking at the book one day, and spoke of its being something of a curiosity because of its age, so when he was discharged he presented it to me out of gratitude.' 'Was his name Hans Metzger?' I asked.
"'Yes,' Bob told me. 'Where was he from?' 'From his dialect I should say he was a Bavarian.'"
"That looks like a proof," said Nan eagerly.
"So I thought. Bob promised to learn what he could of the man and to let me know. I told him of our search and he was much interested."
"Wouldn't it be the queerest thing if your going to Dresden should be the means of finding him?" said Nan.
"When do you think you will hear, Dr. Paul?" asked Jack.
"I'm afraid I can't tell you that. It was only day before yesterday that I saw the book."
"Did you get a description of the man?" asked Miss Helen.
"Yes." The doctor took out his note-book. "He was rather tall, dark, had a scar on his left cheek."
"We must go to-morrow and interview Frau Pfeffer," said Nan. "She can tell if that answers to the description of her brother. I am surprised, Dr. Paul, to see how many Germans are dark. I have always thought of them as a fair-haired, blue-eyed race."
"You will find a great many quite the opposite in this part of Germany particularly. It is so near Italy that there are many intermarriages with the darker race, just as you find in Venice and other parts of Italy that intermarriages with the Austrians and Germans have produced fair-haired Italians."
The interview with Frau Pfeffer the next day seemed to establish the fact of Hans Metzger's identity with the patient of the Dresden hospital, as the description tallied exactly with that of Frau Pfeffer's brother.
"Do you know anything about the old book?" Nan asked.
Frau Pfeffer did not know, but it was like her brother to have such. He was fond of reading, of husbandry, of outdoor life, and he could very well have come into possession of such a volume.
A few days later Dr. Paul had another report to make. "I've heard from Bob Morgan," he said. "The man Hans Metzger has gone to America."
"To America!" All looked at one another quite taken aback.
"Do you think, Dr. Paul, that he has then deserted his little daughter?" asked Miss Helen.
"I can tell better when we get particulars. Bob Morgan had only time for a line. This is what he writes: 'Have followed up the Hans Metzger matter. Find the man sailed for America from Bremen on Dec. 10. Will write details later.'"
"It's as good as a Sherlock Holmes story," said Nan. "I wonder if your Dr. Morgan saw Hans' footprint on the gangplank or the print of his thumb in a booking-office, or what."
"It does become rather exciting," admitted the doctor, "and I am curious myself to learn particulars."
"You'll be sure to let us know as soon as you find out, won't you?" begged the girls.
"I'll fly to you on the wings of the morning or evening, whichever comes handiest," promised the doctor.
A few days later the expected letter came from Dr. Morgan. He wrote: "I took up the Metzger case as soon as you left. Inquired if any of the patients knew him. Found a man from Augsburg who had been here for some time and had made friends with Metzger, as both were Bavarians. Metzger had come to see Augsburg man before leaving the city. Had a good position promised him with an American who was going home and wanted an overseer for a place in New York, so Augsburg man said, though you can't tell about the last. They think New York covers half the U. S., and is synonymous. Later happened upon Dr. Streit who gave me further particulars. Streit is a Munich man and took an interest in Metzger. It was through him Metzger found place with American. No doubt your man will write to his people as soon as he gets settled, for I think it is pretty clear he is your man."
"Do you think we may really count upon his being the right man?" said Miss Helen.
"I think there is every chance of his being. He may have written to his sister, but as you say she left the village soon after he last saw her, it is quite possible the letter never reached her. These peasants are very stupid sometimes, and very likely the letter never was forwarded."
"Dumm is such a good, expressive German word," remarked Nan, "and just fits the case."
"Exactly," returned the doctor, "and we know if our own country postmasters are so often stupid what must some of these Germans be? Bob says he will try to get the address of the man with whom Metzger went, so his sister can write and make sure we are on the right track."
"I think your Dr. Morgan is very good to take so much trouble," said Nan.
"Oh, he is glad to do it. He is a Virginia boy, too, Nan, and you know he is not going to think it any trouble to help out in a case of this kind. Beyond this, he has a personal interest in Metzger, and wants to do all he can on that account."
In due course of time the address came and Frau Pfeffer sent off a letter. So there was nothing to do but to wait for a reply which would decide conclusively whether it were really Bertha's father whom they were following up.
About this time the Carnival season began, and although the family saw little of the gaieties which entertained so many of the Müncheners, the girls did so far participate in them as to go to a mask party which Dr. Mann gave for his boys, and as it was their first experience of this kind they were in a great state of excitement. Of course the twins were not included in the party, but the three older girls and Juliet had many conferences as to costumes.
"We can't be expected to carry fancy costumes all over Europe with us," said Nan, "and we shall have to think up something that we can wear afterward, or which we shall not mind leaving behind, it seems to me."
"We could take them with us, Nan," said Mary Lee, "and they would do to wear when we get home."
"If we haven't outgrown them by that time," returned Nan.
"We couldn't outgrow all the things."
"Well, I know this child spends no fortune on costumes," put in Jo. "Cheap and easy is my motto for this occasion."
"Mamma tried to hire something for us," said Juliet, "but everything we saw that would fit was so mussy and soiled that it wouldn't do at all. We did manage to rig out Maurice, but I am still looking."
"Mary Lee would make a perfect little Dresden shepherdess," said Jo, "and I don't think it would be a hard costume to get up. She could copy some of the figures we have seen and it would be lovely."
"Good!" cried Nan. "I approve of that myself. Although it is not strictly original it will be very becoming and just suit my fair sister's style."
"I am going to talk to mother about it," said Mary Lee leaving the group.
"I'd like to know what a long, lanky thing like me can wear," said Nan. "I might go as a bean-pole, and twine a vine up my length."
"You may be long but you're not what I should call lanky," corrected Jo.
"I think Nan would look fine in one of those costumes on those quaint post-cards we all liked so much at Christmas time," said Juliet. "I have one of the prettiest left. I'll go get it and you might copy that." She ran off, presently returning with the card which all examined with much interest.
"The dress wouldn't be hard," Nan decided, "and I have the scarf. I would need something different from anything in the combined wardrobes of the family to make the bonnet of."
Juliet was busy thinking. "Mother has just the thing, I do believe," she said after a moment: "a big Leghorn hat that can be bent into any shape. She will be delighted to lend it to you. I think you will look dear in such a bonnet, Nan, with bunches of pink roses against your dark hair."
"I can easily make a little bag like that to carry on my arm," decided Nan. "I think it is a costume of the period of 1812 as nearly as I remember."
"One of the boys is to have a costume that will match it," said Juliet. "I shall not tell which one, but I know he will look dandy in it. The boys sometimes spend a lot on these costumes, and come in such magnificence as you wouldn't believe. Of course some are much better off than others, and some of the girls will be gotten up regardless, but I think the main thing is to look picturesque and to wear something which will be becoming when we unmask. When the boys don't want to spend much they go as Pierrots. There will be several in that character, I can promise you."
"I might go as a switch-tender, and borrow Frau Pfeffer's get-up," remarked Jo.
"How you would look," cried Nan, "and what would she do that day, pray?"
"She could go to bed early," said Jo calmly.
It was finally decided that Jo should go in Spanish dress, the girls suddenly remembering what they had brought from Spain with them, which supplemented would do very well to represent an aldeana costume. Juliet eventually went as a peacock, a spreading tail of feathers adorning the back of a greenish gold frock, and upon her head a clever arrangement of feathers and beak to represent the bird's head. Her bodice was of peacock blue and the whole effect was quite dazzling, and strange to say very becoming. Of the four girls it must be said that Mary Lee looked the best, her fair skin, blue eyes and neat features being exactly as they should be for a Dresden shepherdess. A fluffy white wig and a coquettish hat made the finishing touches to her dress, and she was very much pleased with herself as well she might be. Nan, though not so striking, was a quaint figure. Her bonnet was a great success, trimmed outside with long white plumes and some old-fashioned apple-green ribbons, and inside with bunches of pink roses which lay against the clusters of curls in which she had arranged her dark hair. The dress was a green silk with little bunches of pink flowers upon it, and her pink scarf drooping negligently was of the color of the roses in her bonnet. The whole party set off in an automobile and had that kind of good time which youth and high spirits can generally give us on such occasions. That they did not lack in partners for either games or dances goes without saying, and that it was an event long after referred to can be taken for granted.
After this there were not any great merry-makings, the gatherings in Mrs. Hoyt's sitting-room being quite sufficient for ordinary fun, and all worked hard between times. January did not bring anything but dark and sunless weather, so Mrs. Corner felt that she must pitch her tent elsewhere as she was feeling the effects of the lack of sunshine. She therefore decided to go to the Riviera for a couple of months.
"I shall not be so very far away," she said to Nan, who always felt the separation more than any of the others. "It is scarcely more than a day's journey, and if I am needed I can fly to you in less time than it would take to go to Boston from Virginia."
"Will Aunt Helen go with you?" asked Nan.
"I don't know," said Mrs. Corner. "Things didn't go altogether happily with you last winter, Nan, dear, and I hate to leave you in a foreign city with the responsibility of your younger sisters upon you. Mrs. Hoyt has very kindly offered to chaperon you and the Fräulein is quite to be relied upon, but still I do not like to go off and leave you to be the acting head of the family."
"It is quite different from last year," Nan told her, "for this is not a boarding-school, and you will not be the other side of the ocean as you were then. For my part, motherdel—that is a newly coined south German diminutive. I am your mädel; you are my motherdel instead of mutterchin—as I was saying, for my part, I would much rather Aunt Helen should be with you. We shall be perfectly comfortable, and I can't bear the idea of your going off alone. If you should be ill——"
"There are always good doctors and nurses to be had," her mother hastened to say.
"But not to have any of one's very own. No, mutterdel, Aunt Helen must go, too, and we will behave like the best of Cornelia's jewels."
"I am not afraid of you older girls, except in your case when you sacrifice yourself for Jack."
"Oh, but Jack is much more sensible. She is developing a better sense of proportion, and of right and wrong. She is terribly impetuous, but she does mean all right at heart."
"I am sure of that. She couldn't be her father's child and be lacking in principle."
"She couldn't be her mother's child and not turn out a dear, good woman," said Nan, fondling her mother's hand. "I'll promise you, mother, I'll not do anything rash. If any problems arise I will suspend action till I can hear from you, and if it is something in which I have to act at once I will take the case to Mrs. Hoyt."
"There might be cases that you wouldn't want to consult even Mrs. Hoyt about," said Mrs. Corner thoughtfully.
"Then I'll pour out my woes to Dr. Paul."
Mrs. Corner nodded. "Yes, you can trust him, for he has known you all since you were babies. With him as well as Mrs. Hoyt I think I can feel safe about you. All right, Nan. I'll talk it over with Helen."