ity girl. But she had become a country
lass as soon as she put her foot on the sandy path. She felt
instantly that she belonged to the country.

As soon as she had calmed down a little she had ventured out by
herself to inspect the place. She had looked about her on the lawn
in front of the door. Then she suddenly began to whirl about; she
hung her hat on her arm and threw her shawl away. She drew the air
into her lungs so that her nostrils were drawn together and whistled.

Oh, how brave she felt!

She made a few attempts to go quietly and sedately down to the
garden, but that was not what attracted her. Turning off to one
side, she started towards the big groups of barns and out-houses.
She met a farm-girl and said a few words to her. She was surprised
to hear how brisk her own voice sounded; it was like an officer at
the front. And she felt how smart she looked when, with head
proudly raised and a little on one side, moving with a quick, free
motion and with a little switch in her hand, she entered the barn.

It was not, however, what she had expected. No long rows of horned
creatures were there to impress her, for they were all out at
pasture. A single calf stood in its pen and seemed to expect her to
do something for him. She went up to him, raised herself on tiptoe,
held her dress together with one hand and touched the calf's
forehead with the finger-tips of the other.

As the calf still did not seem to think that she had done enough
and stretched out his long tongue, she graciously let him lick her
little finger. She could not resist looking about her, as if to
find some one to admire her bravery. And she discovered that Uncle
Theodore stood at the barn-door and laughed at her.

Then he had gone with her on her walk. But "it" did not come then,
not then at all. It had only wonderfully come to pass that she was
no longer afraid of Uncle Theodore. He was like her mother; he
seemed to know all her faults and weaknesses, and it was so
comfortable. She did not need to show herself better than she was.

Uncle Theodore wished to take her to the garden and to the terraces
by the pond, but that was not to her mind. She wished to know what
there could be in all those big buildings.

So he went patiently with her to the dairy and to the ice-house; to
the wine-cellar and to the potato bins. He took the things in
order, and showed her the larder, and the wood shed, and the
carriage-house, and the laundry. Then he le