door. When she had entered she placed the open hymn-book upon the open
window-sill, so that the sun might read in it. There were no tables or
chairs in the room.

Hansei shook hands with his wife and said, "God be with you,
freeholder's wife."

From that moment Walpurga was known as the "freeholder's wife," and was
never called by any other name.

And now they showed Irma her room. The view extended over meadow and
brook and the neighboring forest. She examined the room. There was
naught but a green Dutch oven and bare walls, and she had brought
nothing with her. In her paternal mansion, and at the castle, there were
chairs and tables, horses and carriages; but here--None of these
follow the dead.

Irma knelt by the window and gazed out over meadow and forest, where the
sun was now shining.

How was it yesterday--was it only yesterday when you saw the sun go
down?

Her thoughts were confused and indistinct. She pressed her hand to her
forehead; the white handkerchief was still there. A bird looked up to
her from the meadow, and when her glance rested upon it it flew away
into the woods.

"The bird has its nest," said she to herself, "and I--"