Addressing Countess Brinkenstein in French, he told her how difficult it had been to secure this, the fairest and best woman in the Highlands. Answering in the same tongue, the countess congratulated him upon his success and commented on Walpurga's healthy appearance. Finally she inquired, still in French: "Has she good teeth?" The doctor turned to Walpurga, saying: "Her ladyship thinks you can't laugh." Walpurga smiled, and the countess praised her perfect teeth. She then touched the bell on the table and a lackey appeared. "Tell privy councilor Gunther," said she, "that I await him here, and that the nurse of his royal highness has arrived." The lackey left the room. The countess now touched the bell twice; a tall lady, advanced in years, and wearing long, corkscrew curls, appeared, and bowed so low that Walpurga imagined she intended to sit down on the floor. "Come nearer, dear Kramer," said the countess. "This is the nurse of his royal highness; she is in your especial charge. Take her to your room and let her have something to eat. What shall it be, doctor?" "Good beef broth will do very well." "Go with Kramer," said the countess, addressing Walpurga, and smiling graciously. "Whenever you want any thing, dear child, ask her for it. God be with you!" The lady with the corkscrew curls, offering her hand to Walpurga, said: "Come with me, my good woman." Walpurga nodded a grateful assent. And so, after all, there was some one to take her by the hand and speak German to her. And they were kind words, too, for the old lady had addressed her as "dear child," and mademoiselle as "my good woman." While they were speaking French, it had seemed as if she were betrayed, for she could not help feeling that they were talking of her. Mademoiselle Kramer now conducted her to the second room beyond. "And now let me bid you welcome!" said the lady, while her homely face suddenly acquired a charming expression. "Give me both hands. Let us be good friends, for we'll always be together, by day and by night! They call me the chief-stewardess." "And I'm called Walpurga." "A pretty name, too! I think you'll keep it." "Keep my name! Why, who can take it from me? I was christened Walpurga, and I've been called so ever since childhood." "Don't agitate yourself, dear Walpurga," said the stewardess, with much feeling. "Yes, pray be calm," added she, "and whenever anything displeases you, tell me of it, and I'll see that it is remedied. You ought to be contented and happy always; and now, sit in this arm-chair, or if you'd rather lie on the sofa and rest yourself, do so. Make yourself perfectly at home." "This will do very well," said Walpurga, ensconcing herself in the great arm-chair and resting her hands upon her knees. Mademoiselle Kramer now ordered one of the serving-maids to bring in some good beef broth and wheaten bread for the nurse. Turning toward Walpurga, she saw that she was crying bitterly.