aced first the lady
Chamberlain, then the chickens, with which she hastily sprang into the
kitchen, and returning, poured forth her thanks and all her cares to
this friend in need.

"Well, well, patience!" exhorted Mrs. Gunilla, kindly and full of
cordial sympathy, and somewhat touched by Elise's communication.
"Best-beloved, one should not take it so much to heart--such troubles as
these soon pass away--yes, indeed, they soon pass. Now listen, and I'll
tell you something, 'when need is greatest, help is nearest.' Yes, yes,
remember that! As for the chickens, I saw them in a peasant's cart, as I
crossed the market, and as I knew what was going on here, I lost no time
in buying them and bringing them, under my cloak, and I have nearly run
myself out of breath, in my haste. He, he, he! And so now I must go,
for the dear lady must dress herself nicely, and so must I too. Adieu,
dear Elise; I wish you the happiness of getting both the dinner and the
young folks in order. He, he, he!"

Gunilla went, dinner-time came, and with it the guests and the Judge,
who had spent the whole morning in the business of his own office, out
of the house.

Emelie, the Colonel's widow, was elegant in the highest degree; looked
handsome, and distinguished, and almost outdid herself in politeness;
but still Elise, spite even of herself, felt stiff and stupid by the
side of her husband's "old flame." Beyond this, she had now a great
distraction.

"Oh, that the chickens may be nicely done!" was the incessant
master-thought of Elise's soul; and it prevailed over the Pope, the
Church of St. Peter's, Thorwaldsen and Pasta, and over every subject on
which they talked.

The hour of dinner was come, and yet the dinner kept the company
waiting. The Judge, who expected from everybody else the punctuality
which he himself practised, began to suffer from what Elise called his
"dinner-fever," and threw uneasy glances first at the dining-room door,
and then at his wife, whose situation, it must be confessed, was not a
very enviable one. She endeavoured to look quite calm, but often
whispered something to the little Louise, which sent her very
importantly in and out of the room. Elise's entertainment, both that
part which was audible, and that which was inaudible, was probably at
the moment carried on something after the following fashion:

"It must be inexpressibly pleasant to know," (ah, how unbearably long it
is!) "it must be very interesting." (I w