Hellmut sat down to his coffee in the morning he always found
letters and newspapers on the breakfast table.
"Good gracious!" he exclaimed on the morning after the ladies'
departure, "what correspondents have you in town, Cornelli? Here is
a letter for you."
Cornelli, looking up from her cup, glanced incredulously at the letter.
"It is really for you. Listen! Miss Cornelli Hellmut, Iller-Stream,
Iron Foundry," the father read. "Here it is!"
Cornelli opened the letter under great suspense and read:
DEAR CORNELLI:
Only think! I am ill and have to lie in bed. The doctor has forbidden
me to read and write, so this letter will be very short. It is very
tiresome to be sick, for my sisters are in school all day. Mama always
has a lot to attend to and Mux is still a very useless little fellow.
Could you not come here and pay me a little visit? I should love to
see you and should enjoy hearing all about Iller-Stream. You could
tell me all about good old Martha, whom I love nearly as much as a
grandmother, about your little kid and Matthew, the horses and
everything else, and especially about yourself.
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