?"

But now others controlled the child. What would they do with him? Why
should she no longer be allowed to interfere, and to say things should
be thus and so? She had nursed him from the first day of his life, and
they had been together day and night. And how would the days and nights
be when they were no longer together?

When Walpurga had finished her supper, she held up the empty dish to
the child and, with a bitter tone, said:

"Do you see this? I'm of no more use now than this empty platter."

Nor did she care to sleep. She felt that she could not lose a minute of
the time that was yet left her with the child. Although she did at
times drop asleep, she would wake up in a fright; for, in her dream,
she had heard children crying--one far off by the lane, and another
beside her--and had thought she was standing between them, and that she
must divide herself: must be there and here. And then, too, she had
heard the cow bellowing and pulling at the rope, just as it had when
fastened to the garden hedge. Walpurga saw it all, quite distinctly;
and the cow had such large eyes, and she could feel its warm breath
against her face. Then she would wake up and rub her eyes and all would
be quiet again, and she would know that it was a dream.

It was the day before her departure. Walpurga bitterly regretted that
she had not told Hansei to come sooner. He might have remained there a
day, and she would then have had some one to stretch out his hand in
welcome, while now she could only offer hers in farewell.

She walked the streets and looked up into the blue sky--the same blue
sky that rested over her home. She went through the little street in
which Doctor Gunther lived. She read the name on the door-plate and
walked in. A servant conducted her into the doctor's ante-room, where
many patients were waiting to see him. Walpurga gave her name to the
servant. All looked at her in astonishment. She was asked to come in
without waiting for her turn, and said that she had only come to say
good-by. Gunther told her to go into the garden and wait there for him
until his office hours were over. She did so. Madame Gunther was
sitting on the steps that led into the garden. She called the peasant
woman to her, and when she learned who she was, told her she might wait
there. Walpurga sat down. Madame Gunther went on with her work and did
not speak a word. She had a decided prejudice against the nurse. Her
husband had often told her of