broth. Am I to be treated as if I were sick, and
forced to eat what I don't like? If there was any one in the house who
could make porridge, I'd rather have that than anything else. I'll go
into the kitchen and make some myself."

Mademoiselle Kramer was in despair. To her great relief, there was a
knock at the door. Doctor Gunther, the king's physician, entered,
accompanied by Doctor Sixtus. He held out his hand to the nurse, and
said:

"God greet you, Walpurga of the cottage by the lake! You've made a good
catch in coming to this house. Don't be alarmed by the ways of the
palace, and do just as you would at home. Take my word for it, water is
needed for cooking, all the world over. The folks here are just as they
are in your neighborhood--just as good and just as bad; just as wise
and just as stupid; with this difference, however--here they know how
to hide their wickedness and stupidity."

Doctor Gunther had, in part, used the Highland dialect while addressing
her, and her face suddenly brightened.

"Thank you! thank you! I'll remember what you tell me," said she,
cheerfully.

Mademoiselle Kramer now introduced the great question of the day--beef
broth or porridge. Doctor Gunther laughed, and said:

"Why porridge, to be sure; that's the best. In fact, Walpurga, all you
need do is to say what you've been used to at home, and you shall have
it here, provided it is neither sour nor fat."

Addressing his colleague, he added:

"We'll keep the nurse on her accustomed diet for the present, and
afterward can gradually bring about a change. Come here, Walpurga, and
let me look into your eyes. I've something to tell you. In a quarter of
an hour from now, you're to appear before the queen. Don't be alarmed,
no one will harm you. She merely wishes to see you. Don't fail to prove
that your eyes are right, when they say they belong to a clever head.
Address the queen calmly, and if, as is quite likely, you still feel a
homesick yearning for your child and the others you've left behind you,
don't show it while you are with the queen. You might cause her to weep
and make her ill, for she's very delicate. Do you quite understand me?"

"I do, indeed! I'll be very careful. I'll cheer her up."

"You must not do that either. Remain perfectly calm and composed; speak
little, and in a low voice. Try to get out of the room as soon as you
can, for she needs all the sleep she can get."

"I'll do everything just as you say. You c