Hans by this time had approached the door and raised the latch,--for in the Tyrol the night rarely calls for other fastening. Nelly heard the sharp, clear sound of an old woman's voice above the hum of a spinning-wheel, and then the glad burst of joy as the mother recognized her son. Unwilling to interrupt their happiness, Nelly moved away out of hearing, when Hanserl came running out, followed by the old woman. “This is the Fräulein, mother,” cried he, with a burst of delight; and the old woman, taking Nelly's hand, kissed it with deep respect. With native courtesy she welcomed Nelly, and, as she entered her house, pointed with pride to a Madonna of Nelly's own carving, which stood on a bracket against the wall. “You see, Fräulein,” said she, “how I have known you for many a day back; and there is your Saint Christopher, and there the 'Blessed Agnes at the Well.'” And so was it. The groups and figures which she believed to have been sold by Hanserl, were all stored up here and treasured like household gods. “Many a traveller has come here just to see these,” continued the old peasant-woman, “and many a tempting sum have they offered if I would sell them, but in all my poverty I did not stoop to this.” “Frau Mutter, Fräu Mutter,” said Hans, rebukingly, and trying to cut short what he feared might offend Nelly. “Nay, Hanserl, it is but the truth,” said she, firmly; “I will not say that I did not do more wisely too, for they who came left me always some little present. Even the poor gave me their blessing, and said that they were happier when they had prayed before the blessed Agnes.” While thus running on in all the garrulity of old age, she never neglected the care of receiving her guests with suitable hospitality. Old Andy was accommodated with a deep straw chair near the stove. The little chamber, which, for its view upon the Passayer Thai, had been specially devoted to receive travellers, was got ready for Nelly; and Hans, once more at home, busied himself in arranging the household and preparing supper.