“To be frank with you, no!  I don’t wear them for my own sake, but for that of others, who dress me to please themselves.  It’s all the same to me, however!  I’ve given myself up to them, and suppose I must submit.”

“May I come in?” asked a pleasant voice.  Countess Irma entered the room.  Extending both her hands to Walpurga, she said:—­

“God greet you, my countrywoman!  I am also from the Highlands, seven hours distance from your village.  I know it well, and once sailed over the lake with your father.  Does he still live?”

“Alas! no:  he was drowned, and the lake hasn’t given up its dead.”

“He was a fine-looking old man, and you are the very image of him.”

“I am glad to find some one else here who knew my father.  The court tailor—­I mean the court doctor—­knew him too.  Yes, search the land through, you couldn’t have found a better man than my father, and no one can help but admit it.”

“Yes:  I’ve often heard as much.”

“May I ask your Ladyship’s name?”

“Countess Wildenort.”

“Wildenort?  I’ve heard the name before.  Yes, I remember my mother’s mentioning it.  Your father was known as a very kind and benevolent man.  Has he been dead a long while?”

“No, he is still living.”

“Is he here too?”

“No.”

“And as what are you here, Countess?”

“As maid of honor.”

“And what is that?”

“Being attached to the Queen’s person; or what, in your part of the country, would be called a companion.”

“Indeed!  And is your father willing to let them use you that way?”

Irma, who was somewhat annoyed by her questions, said:—­

“I wished to ask you something—­Can you write?”

“I once could, but I’ve quite forgotten how.”

“Then I’ve just hit it! that’s the very reason for my coming here.  Now, whenever you wish to write home, you can dictate your letter to me, and I will write whatever you tell me to.”

“I could have done that too,” suggested Mademoiselle Kramer, timidly; “and your Ladyship would not have needed to trouble yourself.”

“No, the Countess will write for me.  Shall it be now?”

“Certainly.”

But Walpurga had to go to the child.  While she was in the next room, Countess Irma and Mademoiselle Kramer engaged each other in conversation.

When Walpurga returned, she found Irma, pen in hand, and at once began to dictate.

Translation of S.A.  Stern.

THE FIRST FALSE STEP

From ‘On the Heights’

The ball was to be given in the palace and the adjoining winter garden.  The intendant now informed Irma of his plan, and was delighted to find that she approved of it.  At the end of the garden he intended to erect a large fountain, ornamented with antique groups.  In the foreground he meant to have trees and shrubbery and various kinds of rocks, so that none could approach too closely; and the background was to be a Grecian landscape, painted in the grand style.