Marianne did not wish to tell what she knew, that the lady had only the one skirt and no other whatsoever, and so, of course, was obliged to wear it.  She did not want to tell that to ’Lizebeth now she heard how the latter judged.

“I do not think of loading my conscience with anything,” ’Lizebeth continued, “and that much is not as it looks, that I know; but when a little boy of whom no one knows from where he came, wears velvet pants on bright week-days and even a velvet jacket, then they are velvet pants and do not only look so, that is certain.  There is something behind that and it will come out and it will not look the best.  Yes indeed, wearing velvet pants, such a little tramp of whom no one knows from where he comes, yes indeed.”

“Do not sin against the dear boy,” Marianne said seriously.  “Look at him and you will see that he looks like a little angel, and he is one.”

“So, that too,” ’Lizebeth continued, “and pray when did you see an angel, Marianne, that you know he looks just like them?  I should like to know!  But I have served over fifty years in a respectable house, and I have helped to bring up the old parson, and the present one and his two sons; but we have never known anything of velvet pants, no, never, and we were, I should think, different people from these.  That is what I wanted to tell you, Marianne, and that is the main reason why I came to you, so that you should know what one is forced to think.  And with regard to the angels, I can tell you that we have a little boy that looks exactly like the angels that blow the trumpets in the picture; such fat, firm, red cheeks has our Moritzli, like painted, and such round arms and legs.”

“Yes, it is true, little Ritz was always a splendid little fellow, I should like to see him again,” Marianne answered good-naturedly.

This reconciled ’Lizebeth a little; in a much friendlier tone she said:  “Then come again to Upper Wood, you will have time, more than I. Then you can look at the other, too, and can see what a pretty, straight nose he has, that no angel could have a prettier one, and in the whole school he is by far the brightest,—­that the teacher himself says of Eduardi.”

’Lizebeth always called the boys by their full names, for the shortening of the names, Ritz and Edi, seemed to her a degrading of their names and an injustice to her favorites.

“Yes, yes, I believe you.  What a delight it must be to see such a well-ordered household and all so happy together and so joyous,” Marianne said with a sigh, and she threw a glance at the room of the stranger, and now ’Lizebeth was completely pacified, for she felt the parsonage again on the top.

“What is the matter with the people?” she asked with compassion.

“I do not know what to say,” was the answer, “I do not understand it all myself.”

“I thought as much, with such strangers one is never secure.”

“No, no, I did not mean anything like that,” Marianne opposed.  “I tell you they are the best people one could find.  I would do anything for the woman.”