decided to go to the shore of the Baltic, and follow it along until
she came to the town in which the priest lived; for it certainly was
useless to look for one among the gayly-plumed skaters in Paris.

Hard walking she found it, among sands and stones, and poor living in
the fishermen's huts scattered along the coast. She was quite glad,
one day, to meet a little girl of her own age, picking berries.
Rosamond helped Greta fill her basket, and then accepted her
invitation to go home with her. After walking through a long green
lane, among fields of waving grain, they entered a town built of white
marble; and Rosamond knew this was the place she sought. They stopped
at Greta's house; but when Rosamond saw how many children there were
in it, she thought she should not be very comfortable there, and asked
for a hotel. Greta told her there was none in the town, but that she
would find herself welcome in any house.

So she walked about until she found a large one with handsome columns
before it, and there she passed the night. In the morning the lady of
the house said, "To-day I am bread maker, for you must know we all
work in this town, and all share our food together. If you stay here,
you must make bread with me."

Rosamond did not like this proposition at all, for her mother had
never taught her to work, and besides, she felt as if, with a crown
upon her head, she were a kind of queen. It seemed to her as if the
villagers also thought so when they looked at her as she walked
through the streets, and she bore herself very proudly for a while,
but at length became so tired and hungry, that she sank down on a
doorstep, her head leaning on her hand; and as she watched the
passers-by through her drooping lids, she noticed how very nice their