s
defenseless against the armory of culture."

Without noticing how Irma started at these words, the doctor calmly
continued:

"There's just as much difference, mentally, between yourself and such a
type of popular simplicity as there is between a grown person and a
child. I fear you've neglected to secure yourself a friend who is your
equal in birth."

"My equal in birth? So you, too, are an aristocrat?"

The doctor explained that equality of rights could be conceded without
doing away with social distinctions.

"Whenever I leave you," said Irma, her face radiant with
enthusiasm--"whenever I've been under the influence of your thoughts,
all that I do or attempt seems petty and trifling. At such moments, I
feel just as I do after listening to glorious music, and long to
accomplish something out of the usual way. I wish I were gifted with
artistic talent."

"Content yourself with being one of nature's loveliest works. That's
the best thing to do."

The doctor was called away.

Irma remained seated for some time, and at last repaired to her room,
where she amused herself with her parrot. Then, after looking at her
flowers for a while, she began to copy them in colors on a slab of
marble. She evidently intended it to be a rare work. But for whom? She
knew not. A tear fell on a rose, the color in which was still wet. She
looked up and left her work. Then she dried the tear, and found herself
obliged to paint the rose anew.

On the day before the christening, Walpurga dictated the following
letter to Countess Irma:

"To-morrow will be Sunday, and I'll try to be with you, too. In
thought, I'm always there. It seems as if it were seven years since I
left home. The day's ever so long here, and there are more than three
times as many people in the palace as could get into our church. There
are lots of married servants here who have servants of their own; there
are none but tall, fine-looking men in service here. Mademoiselle
Kramer tells me that their lordships don't care to have any but
handsome people about them; and some of them are as prim and proper as
a parson. They call them lackeys, and whenever the king goes near one
of them, they bow very low and double up with a snap, just like a
pocket-knife. Oh, what lots of good things I have! If I could only send
you some of them. I'm ever so glad that we shall go to the country
palace in four weeks and stay there till autumn. But how's my child,
and how goes it wit