it;" and in full trust in this strength she went to work, and seemed able
to do more than ever.

Her property, outside of the little capital which her husband had laid by,
consisted of her house, which was free from debt, and of which she could
let a good part. The question was, whether she could carry on the
remunerative business that her husband had been engaged in, until little
Dietrich should be old enough to assume the direction of it, and pursue it
as his father had done before him. Gertrude retained the services of a
workman who had been employed by Steffan, and she herself did not relax
her labors early and late, to oversee the work and keep all in running
order.

For the first few weeks after her mother's death little Veronica sat every
evening weeping silently by herself in a dark corner of the room. When
Gertrude found her thus grieving, she asked kindly what ailed her, and
again and again, she received only this sorrowful answer,

"I want my mother."

Gertrude drew the child tenderly towards her, caressing her, and
promising her that they would all go together some day to join her mother,
who had only gone on before, that she might get strong and well again. And
gradually this second mother grew to take the place of her own, and no
game, no amusement could draw the loving child away from Gertrude's side.
Only Dietrich could succeed in enticing her to go with him now and then.

The lad's love for his mother showed itself in a louder and more
demonstrative manner. He often threw his arms about her neck, crying
passionately,

"My mother belongs to me and to nobody else."

Then Veronica's brows would knit over her flashing eyes, until they formed
a long straight line across her face. But she did not speak. And Gertrude
would put one arm about the boy's neck and the other about the little
girl's, and say,

"You must not speak so, Dietrich. I belong to you both, and you both
belong to me."

In general, the two children were excellent friends, and completely
inseparable. They were not happy unless they shared everything together
and wherever one went, the other must go too. They went regularly to
school every morning, and were always joined by two of the neighbors'
children, who went with them.

These were, the son of the shoemaker, long, bony Jost, with his little,
cunning eyes,--and the sexton's boy, who was as broad as he was long, and
from whose round face two pale eyes peered forth upon the world,