d you before, I don't say
'no.' We're husband and wife and will talk over and settle everything
together. If the money's to bring discord, I'd rather throw the whole
of it into the lake and myself in after it."

Walpurga wept, and Hansei, with choking voice, said: "For God's sake,
don't weep. I feel as if my heart would break when you cry. I wouldn't
have you cry, no, not for ten inns. Oh Lord! to cry on the very first
morning! Depend on it nothing shall be done, unless you're perfectly
satisfied."

Walpurga held out her hand to him, and, with the other, wiped away the
tears which had relieved her overflowing heart. They heard visitors
approaching. Walpurga hurried to the bedroom, for she would have no one
see that she had been weeping. While in the room, she put the gold that
Irma had given her into a pillow-case, and then hid it. One piece of
the money had dropped on the floor. She picked it up and looked at the
image of the king stamped upon it. "Such a king's head goes
everywhere," said she. "If he could only be everywhere in thought, so
as to set everything to rights. But that's more than any man can do.
God alone can do that--How are they getting on in the palace? What will
become of them all? Is it only a day since I left there?"

Lost in reverie, Walpurga remained in the room for a long while. At
last, with a deep sigh, she awakened to the fact that, in this world,
none can afford to give all his thoughts to others. It was now her duty
to take care of herself. Various neighbors and friends dropped in to
welcome Walpurga. Hansei, who was all impatience, said that she had
just gone to her room and would return in a little while. At last
Walpurga came, radiant with joy and health. They all expressed
themselves delighted to see her looking so well, spoke of the excellent
reputation she enjoyed, and assured her that they took as much pleasure
in her good fortune as if it were their own.

Walpurga thanked them heartily. The great cake which the innkeeper had
sent was soon eaten up, for she offered some of it to every visitor.

"How goes it with old Zenza?" asked Walpurga.

"Just to think how good she is; she even remembers the old torment.
Yes, your kindness was thrown away on her and her offspring," said
several voices. She was soon informed that Zenza, with her son and
Black Esther, had left the neighborhood. No one knew where they had
gone, but the root-hut on the Windenreuthe now stood empty.

Nor did troo