y thing!" exclaimed Hansei, jumping to his feet, and looking
quite oddly with the milk-pail buckled fast to him. "You silly thing!
People don't carry cakes into a stable. Take it into the room, and when
you get home, give them my best thanks, and tell the innkeeper, our
godfather, to honor us with a visit soon--no, we'll come to see him
this forenoon; and now you may go."

Walpurga remembered that her mother advised her not to attempt to
change things at once. She determined, for the present, to listen to
everything, and let affairs go on in their own way, keeping her eyes
open in the mean while. Time would show how the land lay.

Hansei went on milking the cows, and Walpurga said nothing.

"One can't always have the world all to one's-self, the way it was down
at the lake this morning; but while there's such a bustle about my ears
I must keep my own counsel," thought she.

When Hansei had finished milking, and stood there with a pail in each
hand, he said:

"What do you think of it?"

"It's splendid milk; and there's lots of it, too."

"No, I mean what do you think of the landlord of the Chamois?"

"It's very polite of him, and I'm much obliged to him for it. We must
try to get even with him."

"There's no need of that; we'll have to pay dear enough for the cake.
But we're not so stupid, either. You'll soon see, Walpurga, I know
which side my bread's buttered on as well as he does. Yes," continued
Hansei, "if I'd only had a chance to talk to the king, you'd have soon
have found out that Hansei's not the dullest fellow in the world."

"I knew that long ago. I don't need the king to tell me that."

At breakfast, Walpurga was delighted to find that the child would take
a few spoonfuls of porridge from her: but it would not go to her, and
cried as if its heart would break when she tried to take it.

"Have you counted up all we're worth? Of all the money you sent, not
one penny's been taken. That is, I took fifteen florins to buy me a
rifle."

"That was right," said Walpurga. And with all her confidence in him,
she resolved that she would not hand Hansei the money that Irma had
given her on the day she left the palace. She knew not why, but she
felt a dread of the gold that had come to her in so strange a manner.
She had not yet looked at it herself. Besides, she felt that it might
be well to keep something in reserve for a rainy day. It might be
better if all were not displayed at once. She promised to recko