a swan's foot and can't walk well. He
cast sly looks at her feet, but they were just like those of other
people. Gradually, he ventured to raise his eyes. He saw that the
clothes she had on were his wife's, and that she was wondrously
beautiful. His head grew so warm that he lifted his hat now and then.
What's real in the world and what isn't? he would ask himself. Had his
wife a double? and could she appear in another form?

Walpurga lingered behind and left the two walking by themselves. Irma
asked herself what she had better say to Hansei, and how she should
address him. It was the first time in her life that she found herself
in an humble position. "How should I address one of an inferior class?"
thought she. At last she said:

"You're a happy man; you have a wife and child and mother-in-law as
good as one can wish for in this world?"

"Yes, yes, they'll do very well," said Hansei.

Although she had not intended it, Irma's praise was, to a certain
extent, patronizing, and Hansei had observed this. He would have
confirmed her opinion by his answer, and would have liked to ask: "Have
you known her long?" but he remembered that he had promised to ask no
questions. Walpurga was right; it was a hard task. He rolled his tongue
about in his mouth, and felt as if the one-half of it were tied.

"The country's pretty rough hereabouts; further up, when you reach our
new home, it's much better," said he, at last. It was long before he
could say that. He had intended to ask whether the stranger had ever
been in that neighborhood before; but he had promised to ask no
questions, and to transpose one's questions is not so easy a task.

Irma felt that she must say something that would put the man at his
ease, and she began: "Hansei!"--his face brightened when he heard her
calling him by name--"Hansei, try to think that you've known me for
ever so long; don't look at me as a stranger. I don't like to ask
anything of others; but I do ask this of you. I know you'll do it; for
you've a good, kind face. And it couldn't be otherwise; Walpurga's
husband, with whom she is so happy, must be a good man. I beg of you,
therefore, don't be concerned; I'll not be a burden to you."

"Oh, there's no idea of such a thing. We've enough, thank God. One cow
more in the stable, or one person more in the house, won't make any
difference; so you needn't worry about that.--And we've also taken
charge of an old pensioner on the estate and--I don't wa