Now, the natives of Gschaid rarely leave their valley, as has been remarked—­hardly even traveling to Millsdorf from which they are separated by customs as well as by mountain-ridges; besides, it never happens that a man leaves his valley to settle in a neighboring one—­though settlements at greater distances do take place; neither does a woman or a girl like to emigrate from one valley into another, except in the rather rare cases when she follows her love and as wife joins her husband in another valley.  So it happened that the dyer’s daughter from Millsdorf was ever considered a stranger by all the people of Gschaid, even after she had become the shoemaker’s wife; and although they never did her any ill, ay, even loved her on account of her beautiful ways, yet they always seemed to keep their distance, or, if you will, showed marked consideration for her, and never became intimate or treated her as their equal, as men and women of Gschaid did men and women of their own valley.  Thus matters stood and remained, and were not mended by the better dress and the lighter domestic duties of the shoemaker’s wife.

At the end of the first year, she had born to her husband a son, and several years afterward, a daughter.  She believed, however, that he did not love his children as she thought he ought to, and as she knew she loved them herself; for his face was mostly serious and he was chiefly concerned with his work.  He rarely fondled or played with the children and always spoke seriously to them as one does to adults.  With regard to food and clothes, and other material things, his care for them was above reproach.

At first, the dyer’s wife frequently came over to Gschaid, and the young couple in their turn visited Millsdorf on occasion of country-fairs and other festivities.  But when the children came, circumstances were altered.  If mothers love their children and long for them, this is frequently, and to a much higher degree, the case with grandmothers; they occasionally long for their grandchildren with an intensity that borders on morbidness.  The dyer’s wife very frequently came over to Gschaid now, in order to see the children and to bring them presents.  Then she would depart again after giving them kindly advice.  But when her age and health did not any longer permit of these frequent journeys and the dyer for this reason objected to them, they bethought themselves of another plan; they changed about, and now the children visited their grandmother.  Frequently, the mother herself took them over in their carriage; at other times, they were bundled up warmly and driven over the “neck” under the care of a servant girl.  But when they were a little older, they went to Millsdorf on foot, either in the company of their mother or of some servant; indeed, when the boy had become strong, clever, and self-reliant, they let him travel the well-known road over the “neck” by himself; and, when the weather was specially beautiful and he begged them, they permitted his little sister to accompany him.  This is customary in Gschaid as the people are hardy pedestrians, and because parents—­especially a man like the shoemaker—­like to see their children able to take care of themselves.