Walpurga felt like telling them that they should not permit the soldiers to sing so loudly, because the young mother who was lying overhead ought to sleep. She had no idea of the great size of the palace, but was soon to find it out.
"Come with me," said Doctor Sixtus; "I'll conduct you to the first lady of the bed-chamber. Have no fear! You will be cordially welcomed by all."
"I'd better bring my pillows with me," answered Walpurga.
"Never mind; Baum will attend to them."
Walpurga followed after the doctor. They ascended a staircase, brilliantly illuminated and decorated with flowers, and Walpurga felt ashamed at the thought of her coming empty-handed, just as if there was nothing she could call her own. "I'm not that poor, after all," said she almost audibly.
They reached the grand corridor. It was also brilliantly illuminated and filled with flowers. There were people in uniform, walking to and fro, but the soft carpets prevented their footsteps from being heard. The under-servants remained standing while Sixtus and Walpurga passed by them. At last they stopped before a door. Addressing the servant who was stationed there, Doctor Sixtus said:
"Inform her excellency that Doctor Sixtus is in waiting, and that he has brought the nurse."
This was the first time that Walpurga had heard herself spoken of as "the nurse," and as being "brought."
She again felt as if under a spell, or rather, as if sold. But she plucked up courage, and suddenly it seemed to her as if she were seated, as she often had been, in a boat on the lake; as if she were plying the oars with her strong arms--a furious wind resisting her progress, and the waves rushing wildly on high. But she was strong, and rowed with a steady hand, and at last conquered the wind and the waves. She stiffened her arms and clenched her fists as if to grasp the oars more firmly.
The servant soon returned, and held the door open while Doctor Sixtus and Walpurga entered a large, well-lighted apartment. A tall, thin lady, clad in a dress of black satin, was seated in an arm-chair near the table. She arose for a moment, but resumed her seat immediately. It is no trifling matter to be first lady of the bedchamber at the birth of a crown prince. This had been a great day with Countess Brinkenstein. Her name had been inscribed for all time in the great official record of the day.