“As you like,” said the woman.  “I will not try to persuade you.  Who knows?—­perhaps it is better that you should grow up first anyway.  To learn to bear sorrow in youth is a good thing, and we easily get accustomed to better times; all those who have turned out really well, were obliged to suffer some heavy crosses in their youth.  Only be good, and keep this in remembrance, that, so long as you are good, and so long as God grants me life, there shall always be, for your parents’ sake, a shelter for you with me.  But now, it’s just as well as it is.  Wait!  I will give you something to remember me by.”  She felt in her pockets; but suddenly she put her hand up to her neck and said:  “No, you shall have this!” Then she blew on her fingers, which were stiff with the cold, until they were nimble enough to permit her to unclasp from her neck a necklace of five rows of garnets, with a Swedish ducat hanging from them; and she fastened the ornament around the child’s neck, kissing her at the same time.

Amrei watched all this as if spell-bound.

“For you I unfortunately have nothing,” said the good woman to Damie, who was breaking a switch he had in his hand into little pieces.  “But I will send you a pair of leather breeches belonging to my John—­they are quite good still and you can wear them when you grow bigger.  And now, God keep you, dear children.  If possible, I shall come to you again, Amrei.  At any rate, send Marianne to me after church.  Be good children, both of you, and pray heartily for your parents in eternity.  And don’t forget that you still have protectors, both in heaven and on earth.”

The farmer’s wife, who, to walk the faster, had tucked her dress up all around, let it down now that she was at the entrance of the village.  With hurried steps she went along the street, and did not look back again.

Amrei put her hands up to her neck and bent down her face, wishing to examine the coin; but she could not quite succeed.  Damie was chewing on the last piece of his switch; when his sister looked at him and saw tears in his eyes, she said: 

“You shall see—­you’ll get the finest pair of breeches in the village!”

“And I won’t take them!” cried Damie, and he spat out a bit of wood.

“And I’ll tell her that she must buy you a knife too.  I shall stay home all day today—­she’s coming to see us.”

“Yes, if she were only there already,” replied Damie without knowing what he said; for a feeling that he had been slighted made him jealous and reproachful.

The first bell was ringing, and the children hastened back to the village.  Amrei, with a brief explanation, gave the newly-acquired trinket to Marianne, who said: 

“On my word, you are a lucky child!  I’ll take good care of it for you.  Now make haste to church.”