se of the
streets. At the palace gate, two soldiers, with their muskets at rest,
were seen marching up and down.

But Walpurga's thoughts wandered homeward. In her mind's eye, she saw
the cottage by the lake and all within its walls. In fancy, she heard
the crackling of the wood with which her mother kindled the fire, and
saw the lamp which she took from the kitchen-shelf. We have milk in the
house, for we've got a cow. Mother will be glad to go milking again.
I'm sure they never light a fire at home without thinking of me. And
the chattering starlings, up in the cherry-tree, are saying:

"Our goodwife is gone; a cow has taken her place."

Walpurga smiled and went on thinking to herself: My Hansei's
oversleeping himself this morning. If you didn't call him, he'd sleep
till noon; he never wakes of himself. She hears her mother calling:
"Get up, Hansei; the sun is burning a hole in your bed!" He gets up and
washes his face at the pump, and now she sees them at their meal; the
child is fed with good milk. If I'd only taken a good look at the cow!
And now Hansei is getting fodder for it from the innkeeper. If he only
doesn't let the rogue cheat him; and Hansei will feel more forlorn than
the child; but, thank God, he has work enough to keep him busy. It's
fishing time, and so he doesn't go into the woods. I see him jump into
his boat; what a noise he makes! The oars are plashing, and away he
rows to catch what fish he can.

Walpurga would have gone on picturing to herself her home at noon and
at evening. Suddenly, she felt as if she had lost her reason. Absence
and death are almost one and the same. You can have no idea of how it
will be one hour after your death; you cannot imagine yourself out of
the world. Her head swam and, as if startled by an apparition, she
turned to Mademoiselle Kramer, and said:

"Let's talk!"

Mademoiselle Kramer required no second hint, and told Walpurga that
every one in the palace knew of the queen's having kissed her the night
before, and that it would be in all the newspapers of the next day.

"Pshaw!" said Walpurga; whereupon Mademoiselle Kramer declared that,
although it made no difference in her case, it was highly improper to
answer in that way, and told her, also, that she ought always express
herself distinctly and in a respectful manner.

Walpurga looked up and listened, as if waiting for Mademoiselle Kramer
to continue and, at last, said: "My dear father once said almost the