She chose the latter, and during his absence was shown the treasures and possessions of a Swiss peasant's home.
She was taken to see the cows in the stalls, and had a lecture given her on the respective merits of Schneewitchen, a white cow, Kartoffelkuehen, a dark brown one, and Röslein, the beauty of them all. Then she looked at the spinning-wheel, and watched the old Hausfrau turn the treadle. And so the time passed, Bernardine making, good friends of them all. Catharina had returned to her knitting, and began working, and, as before, not noticing any one. But Bernardine sat by her side, playing with the cat, and after a time Catharina looked up at Bernardine's little thin face, and, after some hesitation, stroked it gently with her hand.
"Fräulein is not strong," she said tenderly. "If Fräulein lived here,
I should take care of her."
That was a remnant of Catharina's past. She had always loved everything that was ailing and weakly.
Her hand rested on Bernardine's hand. Bernardine pressed it in kindly sympathy, thinking the while of the girl's past happiness and present bereavement.
"Liza is betrothed," she said, as though to herself. "They don't tell me; but I know. I was betrothed once."
She went on knitting. And that was all she said of herself.
Then after a pause she said:
"Fräulein is betrothed?"
Bernardine smiled, and shook her head, and Catharina made no further inquiries. But she looked up from her work from time to time, and seemed pleased that Bernardine still stayed with her. At last the old mother came to say that the coffee was ready, and Bernardine followed her into the parlour.