It was Barbara who generally guarded her slumbers by going hushing and quieting right out into the kitchen, and keeping watch at the door into the passage.  But now she only sat in her room sobbing.

It did surprise her a little that her mistress lay so quiet all the time without calling her.  On the other hand, she rather enjoyed the sentence she was carrying out.  Her mistress should know what opposing her meant, even if it were to last the whole week.

It grew dark, and still her mistress lay there.  She lay until the Consul came driving home towards evening; and she did not even ring for lights when she got up.

It was with a shawl about her head and a face red with weeping, that Mrs. Veyergang received her husband that evening; she was in a violently excited state of mind, and her voice quite trembled.

She wanted nothing less than that he should give Barbara warning.

A tyranny existed in the house that was quite unparalleled—­had existed for several years—­and if she had put up with it without complaining—­her husband knew that she had never complained—­it was for the children’s sake.  But it was really unnecessary now, and “it may be just as well to seize the opportunity; she has become far, far too overbearing in the house!”

It was a matter of course that the warning was given in the most appreciative and considerate, although firmly decisive manner.  The whole circle of Mrs. Veyergang’s acquaintance agreed that they had all expected that the Veyergangs would really one day part with that pampered creature!

The only person who was thoroughly astonished and quite stunned, as if by a thunder-clap, was Barbara herself; and for a long time she could not understand that she, the Veyergangs’ Barbara, had actually received warning to leave Ludvig and Lizzie and the house where she had been so indispensable.

She went about with a solemn, injured air, and expected that a change of decision would some day take place.  Then she became humble to her mistress, and wept before the children.

But there was always only the same kindness, which ever clenched the dismissal more firmly.

And now her mistress began to talk about a substantial acknowledgement of her services with which the Consul would present her on her departure.

In indignation Barbara tied the strings of her best bonnet beneath her chin, and with offended dignity requested permission to go into town.

Her mistress was to know the meaning of this when she returned later in the day.  It was nothing less than that it was her fixed, resolute purpose to offer herself to others who would appreciate her better than the Veyergangs did.

She directed her wrathful steps straight to Scheele, the magistrate’s house:  they had four children, and were looking for a nurse.  They were the Consul’s most intimate friends, where she would only need to present herself, and they would jump at the opportunity.  How often the magistrate’s wife had praised her management, and talked condescendingly to her, when they had dined at the Veyergangs on Sundays!  She had more than once thought Mrs. Veyergang fortunate in having such a treasure in the house, and sighed over her own inability to find just such another.