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Updated: June 11, 2025
De Guenther was telling it as if he were stating a case "nearly a month before the date set for the wedding, when the lovers went for a long automobile ride, across a range of mountains near a country-place where they were both staying. They were alone in the machine.
In the Nibelungen, Chriemhild is represented as the sister of Guenther the King of Burgundy; the gallant Siegfried having heard of her surpassing beauty, resolves to woo her for his bride, but all his splendid achievements fail to secure her favors.
De Guenther had said, as he patted her shoulder. Phyllis took it as a compliment at the time. "Discretionary powers" sounded as if he thought she was a quite intelligent young person. It did not occur to her till he had gone, and she was alone with her check-book, that it meant she had a good deal of liberty to do as she liked. It seemed to be expected of her to stay.
She felt suddenly as if the grimy, restless Children's Room, with its clatter of turbulent little outland voices, were a safe, sunny paradise in comparison. Mr. De Guenther did not speak. He visibly braced himself and was visibly ill-at-ease. "I have told most of the story, Isabel, love," said he at last. "Would you not prefer to tell the rest?
"Oh, Mr. De Guenther!" she said, "I am shocked at you! That's slang!" "It was more in the nature of a quotation," said he apologetically. "And how are you this exceedingly unpleasant day, Miss Braithwaite? We have seen very little of you lately, Mrs. De Guenther and I."
"I do hope you want to see me especially!" she said brightly. The children, disappointed, relaxed their attention. Mr. De Guenther rose slowly and neatly from his seat beside the rather bored Isaac Rabinowitz, who dived into his book again with alacrity.
The Liberry Teacher, gracefully respectful in her place, wriggled with invisible impatience over this carefully polite conversational opening. He had come down here on purpose to see her there must be something going to happen, even if it was only a request to save a seven-day book for Mrs. De Guenther!
De Guenther!" cried Phyllis before she thought, out of the fulness of her heart, catching his arm in her eagerness; "Oh, Mr. De Guenther, could the Very Different Line of Work have a have a rose-garden attached to it anywhere?" Before she was fairly finished she knew what a silly question she had asked. How could any line of work she was qualified to do possibly have rose-gardens attached to it?
De Guenther had held out to her, and woke to discover herself trying to find a place under "Domestic Economy Condiments" for "Five Little Peppers and How They Grew." She laughed aloud in the suddenly empty room, and then lifted her head to find Miss Black, the night-duty girl that week, standing in the doorway ready to relieve guard. "Oh, Anna, see what I've done!" she laughed.
And I can't help being good to him. It's only common humanity. I was never so sorry for anybody in my life you'd be, too, if it were Mr. De Guenther!" She thought her explanation was complete. But she must have said something that she did not realize, for Mrs. De Guenther only laughed her little tinkling laugh again, and as is the fashion of elderly people kissed her.
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