is it you,
Walpurga, of the cottage by the lake?--How proud she'll be!"

Such were Walpurga's extravagant expressions of delight, while she
stood looking at herself in the full-length mirror. Mademoiselle Kramer
was indeed obliged to hold her back, lest she should rush through the
glass in her eager desire to embrace the figure she saw reflected in
it.

The court tailor had sent home the new clothes. It was difficult to
decide which was the most beautiful--the stomacher, the skirt,
the collar, the shirt with the short, wide sleeves--but no! the
narrow-rimmed hat, trimmed with flowers and gold lace and with gold
tassels, was the most beautiful of all. It fitted perfectly, and was as
light as a feather. "There, I'll just move it a little to the left.
Gracious me!--Well, you are beautiful! The folks are right!" She placed
her arms akimbo and danced about the room, like one possessed. And
then, placing herself before the mirror, she stared into it, silently,
as if lost in contemplation of her own image.

Ah, that mirror! Walpurga had never before seen her full figure, from
head to foot. What could she see in the twopenny looking-glass at home?
Nothing but the face and a little of the neck!

She lifted her hand to her throat. It was encircled by a necklace
composed of seven rows of garnets and fastened in front with an
agraffe. And how clever Mademoiselle Kramer was! How many things she
could do!

She had placed a large mirror behind Walpurga, who could now see how
she looked in the back, and on all sides. Oh, how clever these people
are! What do they know out our way? Nothing of the world, and less
about themselves!

"And this is how Walpurga looks to those who walk behind her? And so,"
turning herself on one side, "and so," turning again on the other. "I
must say, I like your looks; you're not out of the way, at all! So
that's Hansei's wife? He ought to feel satisfied with her; but then,
he's good and true and has well deserved her."

Giddy with excitement, Walpurga thus talked to herself; it was the
first time that she had ever seen a full length reflection of herself.

The first stranger who saw her thus was Baum.

He always wore shoes without heels and, putting down his whole foot at
once, managed to step so softly that you could never know when he was
coming. He always approached with a modest air, as if fearful of
disturbing you, but always kept his own counsel and was an available
tool, no matter what the