Ragna gazed at her with wide eyes; this explained then, her father's anxious look, the small changes in the way of living, the thread-bareness, slight as yet, of things in general. She had put it down to the Grandmother's illness--but again that had not explained the fewer horses in the stables and the simpler fare. "Oh, poor father!" exclaimed Ragna. "Oh, yes," said Fru Boyesen, "but it is partly his own fault; he would not take my advice, he made some imprudent investments, and of course he has had bad luck with the horses, this year of all years. Three good foals lost, and Green Hunter broke his leg and had to be shot. But that is not the point; it is this, when your Grandmother dies, and she cannot live long, poor woman, her income goes with her, and what your father and mother will do then, I do not know. Of course your father can't afford to send Ingeborg and Lotte away to school as he has sent you--and it is better for them that he can't, they can help at home and your mother need keep fewer servants. Now as to you, you are of no earthly use in the house, you know nothing about cheese and butter-making, nor of practical housekeeping. Your fine embroidery and piano playing and French and Italian won't help you here, and I know you don't want to be a burden." She paused to wipe her glasses before turning the heel in her stocking. Ragna had listened to her, leaning her head on her hand and her elbow on her knee, the flowers quite forgotten. Being so young she was rather exhilarated than depressed by the implied suggestion that she must fend for herself. "Don't you think, Aunt Gitta, that I might teach?" "Teach whom? Where? One, two, three, four, um-um,--Who wants to learn,--five, six and seven,--French here? There now, I've lost count, I must begin all over again! Don't interrupt me for five minutes." Fru Boyesen said this intentionally in order to give Ragna time to take the situation in. The girl knew that her Aunt was quite correct: who indeed, out in the country would wish to learn anything she could teach? When she was sure the five minutes were up, she spoke again, timidly. "I meant in a town, Aunt Gitta, or I could be a governess." "Teach in a town! Where are your certificates, my dear?" It was true, of certificates Ragna had none but those of elementary study. The convent gave no certificates. Her face fell. "And as for governessing,--my niece a governess? An Andersen a governess? Never." "Well, then, Aunt Gitta, what can I do? You say yourself I can't live on here and be a burden." She had reached the point her Aunt had meant her to reach from the start.