When they finally stopped before the front porch at Mårbacka and a maid came out to receive her mistress, she was afraid to step down. “No, no, not you!” she cried. “You have no power, you can’t save me from them.” The maid drew back in alarm. She had never heard her mistress speak like that before. “Go fetch the priest’s daughter,” said Fru Raklitz--“go fetch Lisa Maja! She is the only one here who has power over the _evil ones._” “Mamselle Lisa Maja has gone to bed,” said the girl. “Go ask her to come down as quick as she can,” Long-Bengt put in. “Tell her Frua got a fright on the way.” Fru Raklitz sat shaking and gibbering until her stepdaughter appeared. “Ah, God bless you!” cried the woman, holding out her arms to the girl. “Come help me! Don’t be angry with me! I’ll never be mean to you again.” “What’s the matter, Mother dear?” said the girl as she stood by the carriage. “Come, give me your hand,” begged the stepmother. “Dear heart, hold them back while I get down. Don’t let them take me! They can’t harm you who have power over them.” When she was out of the chaise she fell on the stepdaughter’s neck, and sobbed: “Don’t ever leave me! Don’t be angry with me! You shall marry whomever you will, and I’ll not say a word.” “She saw something coming home,” Long-Bengt explained. “She saw all the little imps of hell let loose, and she thinks they’re after her and will drag her into the Fryken.” The priest’s daughter put her arm round the stepmother, and said: “Come in, Mother dear! You are at Mårbacka now. Here none of the evil ones can touch you, darling Mother.” Fru Raklitz was so shaken from fright that Lisa Maja had to talk to her as to a little child, to get her to her room and to bed. She would not let her go; so the girl had to sit there holding her hand, and listen to her ravings until daybreak. From that time forth Fru Raklitz never dared be cruel to her stepdaughter; nor was she ever again her old ruthless self. She kept to her room mostly, and let Lisa Maja run the house. She would lend a hand when there was extra cleaning and furbishing to be done--as before a great holiday or a party--but only in the house, never outside it. Thus she lived until 1835. Whether she had ever any real affection for the stepdaughter is doubtful. But when Lisa Maja was married, and the little ones came, she grew very fond of them. Every day the children would go in to see Granny. She was also very fond of her coffee, and always had a fire going in the tile-stove of her room, so that she could make coffee for herself. She would often treat the children. But their mother thought coffee was not good for little folk, and told them one day they must never drink any of Granny’s coffee. The next day, when the two youngest, Nana and Lovisa, came out of the grandmother’s room, there was a strong odour of coffee about them. “What did you have at Granny’s to-day?” their mother asked them.