"No, no," interrupted the little one warmly. "People are never from
two places, only from one. I am from Berlin, in Germany, you see. Then
Papa bought an estate and now we are living on Lake Geneva. What is
your name?"

Sami told her.

"And my name is Betti. Why did you come into the courtyard when Tina
wanted to send you out?"

Sami had to think for a while, then he said:

"Because those words were on the robe, I knew they were God-fearing
people where it belonged, and my grandmother told me I must stay with
such people and never go away, for I should learn nothing but good
from them."

"Must you stay with us now, and never go away again?" asked little
Betti eagerly.

"Yes, I think so," answered Sami. "Perhaps I can weed the garden."

"That is right," said Betti, delighted. "You see, Tina will not take me
in the carriage; she says I am too big. Will you take me every day in the
carriage to the meadow for ever so many hours?"

"Yes, indeed, I will do that gladly," promised Sami, "and you shall have
all the flowers. Then I will take you besides to the trees where all the
birds sing 'Only trust the dear Lord!' and where the finch cries so loud