Walpurga resolutely. She felt so weak, however, that
she was obliged to sit down.

CHAPTER VII.

The two physicians, accompanied by the innkeeper, left the house. Stasi
brought in the soup and the roast meat for the christening dinner and
placed them on the table. The grandmother offered up a prayer, in which
the others joined; they all seated themselves at the table. Walpurga
was the first to take a spoonful of the soup from the dish, but,
finding that no one cared to eat, she filled her spoon again and said:

"Open your mouth, Hansei, and let me give you something to eat. Take
this, and may God's blessing go with it. And just as the food I now
offer you gives me more pleasure than if I were eating it myself, so,
when I'm among strangers, not a morsel will pass my lips that I
wouldn't rather give you and the child. I only go away so that we may
be able to live in peace and comfort hereafter. I shall think of you
and mother and the child, by day and night, and, God willing, I'll
return again in health and happiness. Don't forget that God might have
called me away in the hour of pain and trial, and that then you'd have
been without me all your lifetime. Mother, I've often heard you say
that a wife giving birth to a child has one foot in the grave. I'm only
going away for a year, and you all know that I'll return the same
Walpurga that I now am. Don't let our parting be sad, Hansei; you must
help me! You can, and I know you will. You're my only support. Keep
yourself tidy while I'm gone. You'd better wear a good shirt every
Sunday morning, for now you can afford it. You'll find them in the blue
closet--on the upper right-hand shelf. Do eat something; I'll eat just
as soon as you do. We need all our strength. You'll be all right
to-morrow, and so shall I. But do eat something! For every spoonful you
take, I'll take one, too:--there, that's it--but not so fast, or I
can't keep up with you!" Smiling through her tears, she went on eating.

"And now, mother," she continued, "you'll have no chance to say that
you're a burden to us. When I'm gone, you can take the two pillows off
my bed and put them on yours, so that you can sleep with your head
right high. That'll do you good. If we didn't have you, I wouldn't dare
to think of going. Don't spoil my husband, and, when I come back again,
we'll fix up a little room for you where you can live as well as the
first farmer's wife in the land."