No, the countess will write for me. Shall it be now?"

"Certainly."

But Walpurga had to go to the child. While she was in the next room,
Countess Irma and Mademoiselle Kramer engaged each other in
conversation.

When Walpurga returned, she found Irma, pen in hand, and at once began
to dictate.

"Dear husband, dear mother, and dear child. No, stop! don't write that!
Take another sheet of paper. Now I've got it, now you can go on."

"I wish to let you know, that by the help of God, I arrived here safe
and sound, in the carriage with the four horses. I don't know how. And
the queen's an angel, and there were millions of lights, and my
child--"

Walpurga covered her face with both hands--she had said "my child,"
without knowing which child she meant.

A pause ensued.

"And my child," said Countess Irma, repeating the words after her.

"No!" exclaimed Walpurga, "I can't write to-day. Excuse me; there's no
use trying. But you've promised to write for me to-morrow or the day
after. Do come and see us every day."

"And shall! bring a good friend with me?"

"Of course; any friend of yours will be welcome. Isn't it so.
Mademoiselle Kramer?"

"Certainly; Countess Irma has special permission."

"I'll bring a very good friend with me; she can sing charmingly, and
her voice is soft and gentle--but I'll not torment you with riddles; I
play the zither, and will bring mine with me."

"You play the zither?" exclaimed Walpurga, scarcely able to contain
herself for joy.

Any further expressions on her part were prevented by the presence of
the king, who entered at that moment.

With a gentle inclination of the head, he greeted Countess Irma, who
had risen from her seat and bowed so low that it seemed as though she
meant to sit down on the floor.

"What are you writing?" asked the king.

"Walpurga's secrets, may it please Your Majesty," replied Countess
Irma.

"The king may read all that's there," said Walpurga, handing him the
sheet.

He hurriedly ran his eye over it, and then, with a glance at the
countess, folded it and put it in his breast pocket.

"I shall sing with Walpurga," said Irma, "and Your Majesty will again
observe that music is the highest good on earth. Singing together,
Walpurga and I are equals. The creations of other arts, poetry
especially, may be translated by every one into his own language,
according to the measure of his knowledge and experience."

"Quite true," replied the king; "musi