the elder
of the two children, for she had the same brown hair Grim had spoken of,
but she was so much overcome by sorrow that she did not see Laura until
she came quite to the door, and then she started as if with painful
surprise.

"Do not be alarmed," said Laura. "I have been walking a long way, and am
very tired: can you let me rest here for the night?"

"Oh yes," said the girl, with a sweet, sad smile. "I am very lonely now,
but"--and she hesitated, glancing at Laura's embroidered dress--"I fear
I cannot offer you anything so nice as you are used to having. I am very
poor."

"But see, I have enough for both of us," said Laura, showing her flask
of wine and her oat-cakes; "and I have nice warm clothing, too, which a
kind friend sent to you. But where is little Fritz?"

A look of such deep pain came in the girl's pale face that Laura was
sorry she had asked.

"How did you know anything about my little Fritz?" responded the girl,
in a low tone.

"I will explain very soon," replied Laura; "but first tell me your
name--mine is Laura."

"And mine is Kathinka, or Kathie."

"Now we can get along nicely; but shall we not have more fire and some
tea before I tell you my story?" said Laura.

"I have no tea, and since little Fritz has been gone I have not cared to
eat," said Kathie, with the dulness of sorrow.

"Then I will make the fire burn better," said Laura, "and make tea, too,
for I am sure the Motherkin packed some."

"But your hands are too fine and white--no, I will do it," said Kathie,
more aroused; and she went out for a while, and came back with some
sticks. Presently there was a good blaze, and Laura got out the tea and
sugar and cakes, and set them down on the hearth, for there was no
table. Laura was hungry, and glad to eat, and, after looking somewhat
curiously at her, Kathie, too, joined in the simple repast.

Then Laura told her all about herself, beginning at her mother's leaving
her with the Motherkin, all about her new and strange experiences, about
Grim, and lastly about her adventures in the woods coming to Kathie's
relief. Kathie became so interested that she forgot for a moment her
sorrow; but when Laura related Grim's account of little Fritz, and
Kathie's own kindness to her young brother, about Grim's whisper to the
woodsman, and his regret at leaving the children alone, and Laura's
resolve to come to them, she could keep quiet no longer, but fell into
such sobbing as Laura had never