Part 150 (1/2)
”Then I'd rather come some other time.”
”I can't receive you for mere talk. Tell me now what you have to say.”
”Well then. Doctor--Oh, dear me, to think that you don't even shake hands with me. I can't get over it. But I see, that's the way it is with great folk; it's all the same--thank G.o.d, I know where I'm at home!”
”Cease your empty talk!” said Gunther, interrupting her still more sharply. ”What have you to tell me? Can I help you in any way?”
”Me? Thank G.o.d, nothing ails me. I only wanted to say that under-forester Steinga.s.singer lives out on the dairy-farm, and that his wife is my friend and companion, Stasi. Early last winter, she told me that the king was coming here this summer, and all I wanted to say was that if he cares to pay me a visit at the freehold, he's quite welcome.
I might have said something more, but I see I'd better not. I'd rather not break an oath.”
Gunther nodded.
”If the king wishes to pay you a visit, I will tell him what you have said.”
”And isn't our dear, good queen coming, too! I've often been kept awake at nights by anger and sorrow, when I thought that she doesn't concern herself about me. And she promised me so solemnly that she would. I can't understand how it is; but it's all right, I suppose. And how is the little prince? And is it true that you are not in favor and have been dismissed from the court? And is that why you are living here in this little house?”
Gunther gave her an evasive reply, and said that he had other matters to attend to.
Walpurga arose from her seat, but could not move from the spot. She could not understand why she should be treated thus, and it was only because she had previously made up her mind to do so, that she invited Gunther to visit her, and asked permission to see Madame Gunther for a few moments. She hoped that she, at least, would receive her kindly and afford her some explanation of the Doctor's repellant manner.
”Go to her,” replied Gunther, turning away and taking up a book.
Walpurga left the room.
She stopped in the pa.s.sageway and asked herself whether she was not dreaming. She who had once been the crown prince's nurse was now treated as if they had never known her. She, the freeholder's wife--her pride rose, as she thought of her vast homestead--was sent away like a beggar.
She no longer cared to speak with Madame Gunther. Her lips trembled with grief at the thought of how wicked the great people were. And yet they could praise this house, and she, too, had once praised it, as though none but holy persons lived in it.
She left the house, and, while walking through the garden, met Madame Gunther, who started back when she recognized Walpurga.
”Don't you remember me?” asked Walpurga, holding out her hand towards her.
”Indeed I do,” said Madame Gunther, without noticing the hand that was offered her. ”Where do you come from?”
”From my farm. I'm the freeholder's wife, and if you, Madame, had come to me, I wouldn't have let you stand out of doors in this way; I'd have asked you to come inside, into my room.”
”But I don't ask you,” replied Madame Gunther, ”I put nothing in the way of those who leave the straight path, but I do not invite them into my house.”
”And when did I leave the straight path? What have I done?”
”I am not your judge.”
”Anyone may judge me. What have I done? You must tell me.”
”I must not; but I will. You will have to answer to yourself how all the money was earned with which you bought your great farm. Good-day!”
She went into the house.
Walpurga stood there, alone. The houses, the mountains, the woods, the fields--all swam before her, and her eyes were filled with bitter tears.