bread was sour and the butter dubious, as Ottilia had
foretold, so we soaked the bread in the coffee, like French peasants.

"Mamma," said Nora gravely, "it makes me sorry for poor people. I
daresay many never have anything nicer to eat than this."

"Not nicer than this!" I exclaimed. "Why, my dear child, thousands, not
in Germany only, but in France and England, never taste anything as good."

The little girl opened her eyes. There are salutary lessons to be learnt
from even the mildest experience of "roughing it."

Suddenly Nora's eyes fell on a little parcel in blue paper. It was lying
on one of the shelves of the stove, which, as in most German rooms,
stood out a little from the wall, and in its summer idleness was a
convenient receptacle for odds and ends. This stove was a high one, of
black-leaded iron; it stood between the door and the wall, on the same
side as the door, and was the most conspicuous object in the room.

"Mamma," she exclaimed, "there is the parcel you brought away from the
china place. What is it? I wish you would show it me."

I gave a little exclamation of annoyance.

"Frau von Walden has forgotten it," I said; for my friend, returning
straight to Kronberg, had offered to take it home for me in her bag for
fear of accidents. "It does not matter," I added, "I will pack it among
our soft things. It is a very pretty cup and saucer, but I will show
it to you at Kronberg, for it is so nicely wrapped up. Now I am going
downstairs to order the _Einspaenner_, and we can walk about for an hour
or two."

The children came with me. I had some trouble in disinterring the
landlord, but at last I found him, of course with a pipe in his mouth,
hanging about the premises. He listened to me civilly enough, but when I
waited for his reply as to whether the _Einspaenner_ would be ready about
twelve o'clock, he calmly regarded me without speaking. I repeated my
inquiry.

"At twelve?" he said calmly. "Yes, no doubt the gracious lady might as
well fix twelve as any other hour, for there was no such thing as a
horse, much less an _Einspaenner_, to be had at Silberbach."

I stared at him in my turn.

"No horse, no carriage to be had! How do people ever get away from here
then?" I said.

"They don't get away--that is to say, if they come at all, they go as
they came, in the carriage that brought them; otherwise they neither
come nor go. The lady came on foot: she can go on foot; otherwise she
can stay."