ing from the Psalter that she already
knows by heart from beginning to end. The young maid has sat down to
her spindle as if she had not done enough through the long day, and is
drawing the long threads of the silken flax, which yesterday she
combed and to-day carded.

"Go to bed, Clara," said the old woman kindly, "if I sit up, that is
enough. To-morrow you will have to get up early just the same."

"Surely I could not go to sleep before the return of our noble lady,"
replied the other, continuing her work. "Even though the men are all
at home I am afraid while she is not here; but when once the noble
lady comes I feel as safe as if castle walls surrounded us."

"You are right, my child, she is worth more than many men, poor soul!
For many years all the cares that belong to a man have rested on her
shoulders. She has to look out for everything; and as if that were not
enough she has leased beside the estate of her sisters, Madame Banfy
and Madame Beleky. How many lawsuits she has had to carry on with this
and that neighbor or kinsman! but they meet their match in her! She
goes herself to the judge and the courts and is so clever that an
advocate might learn of her. Once, when my lord Banfy came to play the
gallant with her, thinking our gracious lady one of those
grass-widows, how quickly she showed him the door; the good man hardly
knew which foot to put first and yet he is one of the royal judges. To
pay for that he quartered on us the head collector with a mixed crowd
of troopers. You were here then, weren't you, when our noble lady had
them driven out of the village? How they took to their heels when they
saw that our noble lady herself stood there with her gun."

"If they hadn't," boasted the excited maiden, "I would have struck
them over the head with my oven-cloth."

"You see, Clara, when a woman is compelled to take care of a house
alone for so long a time, to defend herself and her family with her
own strength, she comes to feel just like a man. That is why our lady
has that determined look, as if she had not been a maiden of high
birth."

"But tell me, Aunt Magdalene," said the girl, drawing her stool
nearer, "are we really never to see our gracious master again?"

"God only knows," replied the old woman, with a sigh, "when the poor
man will be set free. I have a sure presentiment which I have told,
but nobody listens to me. When the late Prince George became
dissatisfied with his own country and set