"And so you really don't know me? That's splendid. Don't you know your friend Irma, any more?"
"You rogue! You good-for-nothing rogue," burst out Walpurga. "Pardon me. Countess Irma, but who'd have thought of such a thing; and you threw me into such a fright! What's it all about? Is it carnival time already?"
"Walpurga, if you understood the language, you might see me in a French play this evening. The king is also going to act. I'm sorry, for I'd rather had you in the audience than any of the rest. But I've had sufficient applause already; you didn't know me. I'm glad of that at all events."
"And I'm heartily sorry," said Walpurga, becoming quite serious. "Oh, dear Countess, do you know what you're doing? It's the greatest sin to put on men's clothes, for then the devil's master over one. Don't laugh at me! I'm not so silly as you think. It's just as true as can be. Grubersepp's grandfather had a daughter, and she had a sweetheart who was off at the wars, and while she was sitting in the room spinning, just as I was a little while ago, a girl dressed herself up in soldier's clothes, and went into the room and acted just as if she was the sweetheart himself. Grubersepp's daughter fainted, but got over it again and the disguised girl ran away. And as soon as she got out of the house, there were hundreds of men with whips and horses' heads, and they chased her ever so far and, at last, the devil caught her, tore her to pieces and threw her into the lake. Yes, it's a true story; you can take my word for it. There are people enough living to this day who knew her."
"You're enough to make one quite melancholy," said Irma.
"Perhaps such things only happen with us," said Walpurga, as if to console her. "The soldiers out there, with their swords and muskets, wouldn't let the devil enter here; but, my dear, good Countess, don't you feel ashamed to wear those clothes before so many people?"
"You belong to a different world from ours. You're right, and so are we," said Irma, walking up and down the room quickly and rattling her spurs. "No, Walpurga, don't alarm yourself about me, and don't take your fright so much to heart."
She was again the same careless, true-hearted creature that she had ever been, and Walpurga could not help saying:
"Oh, how beautiful! you look just like a prince."
Walpurga's eyes rested on the door long after Irma had left. It seemed to her as if it had all been a dream.