appeared looking less cheerful than usual. It was his last day,
he said, as he must return to Frankfurt, but he was grieved at
having to say good-bye to the mountain, which he had begun to
feel quite like home. Alm-Uncle, on his side, greatly regretted
the departure of his guest, and Heidi had been now accustomed
for so long to see her good friend every day that she could
hardly believe the time had suddenly come to separate. She looked
up at him in doubt, taken by surprise, but there was no help, he
must go. So he bid farewell to the old man and asked that Heidi
might go with him part of the return way, and Heidi took his hand
and went down the mountain with him, still unable to grasp the
idea that he was going for good. After some distance the doctor
stood still, and passing his hand over the child's curly head
said, "Now, Heidi, you must go back, and I must say good-bye! If
only I could take you with me to Frankfurt and keep you there!"
The picture of Frankfurt rose before the child's eyes, its rows
of endless houses, its hard streets, and even the vision of
Fraulein Rottenmeier and Tinette, and she answered hesitatingly,
"I would rather that you came back to us."
"Yes, you are right, that would be better. But now good-bye,
Heidi." The child put her hand in his and looked up at him; the
kind eyes looking down on her had tears in them. Then the doctor
tore himself away and quickly continued his descent.
Heidi remained standing without moving. The friendly eyes with
the tears in them had gone to her heart. All at once she burst
into tears and started running as fast as she could after the
departing figure, calling out in broken tones: "Doctor! doctor!"
He turned round and waited till the child reached him. The tears
were streaming down her face and she sobbed out: "I will come to
Frankfurt with you, now at once, and I will stay with you as
long as you like, only I must just run back and tell
grandfather."
The doctor laid his hand on her and tried to calm her
excitement. "No, no, dear child," he said kindly, "not now; you
must stay for the present under the fir trees, or I should have
172