ow I'll go to the queen," said she. "How do you address her?"

"'Your majesty,' or, 'most gracious madam.'"

"In the prayers at church they call her the 'country's mother,'" said
Walpurga, "and I like that far better. That's a glorious, beautiful
name. If it were mine, no one should take it from me. And now I'll go
to the queen."

"No! you must wait. You will be sent for."

"That'll suit me just as well. But I want to ask a favor of you. Call
me 'Du'."[1]

"Quite willingly, if the first lady of the bedchamber does not object."

"And so nothing can be done here without asking leave. But now we've
done talking, let's be quiet. Ah, yes! there's one thing more. Whose
picture is that hanging up there?"

"The queen's."

"Is that the queen? Oh, how lovely! But she's very young."

"Yes, she's only eighteen years old."

Walpurga gazed at the picture for a long while. Then, turning away from
it, she sank on her knees beside the great chair, folded her hands and
softly whispered a paternoster.

Walpurga was still kneeling, when a knock at the door was heard. A
lackey entered and said:

"Her majesty has sent for his royal highness's nurse."

Walpurga arose and followed the servant. Mademoiselle Kramer
accompanying them.

CHAPTER X.

Preceded by a servant bearing a lantern, they passed through the long,
narrow, brilliantly lighted passage and ascending a staircase, reached
the gallery of the royal chapel. There were cushioned chairs for the
court. Walpurga looked down into the vast, dark hall. There was no
light except that in the altar lamp, the rays of which faintly
illumined the image of the Virgin.

"Thou art everywhere!" said Walpurga, half aloud, while she looked down
into the dark church and saluted the Madonna with the Child, as
familiarly as if greeting an intimate friend. A dim sense of the divine
attributes of maternity, as glorified in ages of song and picture,
prayer and sacrifice, filled her soul. She nodded to the picture once
again, and then walked on. As uncertain of her steps as if walking on
glass, she went through the throne-room, and the great ball-room. Then
they passed through other apartments which, though evidently intended
for more domestic uses, were without doors and were separated from each
other by heavy double hangings. At last they descended a wide marble
staircase with a golden balustrade. It was well-lighted and carpeted.
Here there were se