n it all
up before noon, and expressed her regret that she had no closet in
which to pack away all the pretty things she had brought with her in
the chest.

"I wouldn't unpack at all, if I were you," said Hansei. "You might as
well wait till we have our inn. You'll find enough chests and trunks
there."

Walpurga made no answer. Hansei looked at her curiously, but she
remained silent.

"Why don't you say something about the matter?" he inquired at last.

"Because you haven't told me about it right. Come now, what do you
really mean?"

Hansei informed her that every one said the most sensible thing he
could do would be to buy out the landlord of the Chamois. There
couldn't be a better hostess in the world than Walpurga, and they would
have a larger custom than any house in the land. They could alter the
sign--that would be a clever stroke and would draw more than anything
else. It should no longer be "The Chamois," but the "The King's Nurse,"
or "The Prince's Nurse," instead. There was a painter thereabouts, who
would make a new sign, representing Walpurga with the prince in her
arms. People would be drawn together from all parts of the
neighborhood; there wouldn't be tables and chairs enough, and money
would pour in on them from all sides. The bargain was a fair one; the
innkeeper had named a reasonable price. "Every one says so," said
Hansei, "and now what have you to say? for it's for you to decide."

"I don't care for what the people say," began Walpurga, "but tell me,
frankly, have you concluded the purchase? If you have, I've nothing to
say. I wouldn't have you break your word nor disgrace yourself, for all
the world. You're the husband and your word must be kept."

"That's right; if only every one could have heard that."

"What need you care whether they hear it or not?"

"Why, the stupid people think that you rule everything, because the
money comes from you. To be frank with you, the bargain isn't
concluded; it all depends upon your consent."

"And if I were to say 'no,' would you be angry? Answer me; why are you
silent now?"

"Well, it would grieve me to the heart if you did."

"I don't say 'no,'" answered his wife, soothingly. "But there's one
thing we'd better have an understanding about, at once. I never want to
hear another word as to where the money comes from. You were alone all
that time; you've had to suffer for it, as well as I, and, take my word
for it, I shan't forget it. But, as I tol