"No, that 'ud be the death of you. You mustn't drink water now. I'll cook some warm soup for you, and bring it to you right off."
She led Irma into the room, and when she saw her hand and the diamond rings sparkling on it, she grinned with delight.
"Oh what a beautiful ring! That's from your sweetheart."
"Take it and keep it," said Irma, holding out her hand.
With great dexterity, the old woman removed the ring from Irma's finger.
"Good heavens!" cried the old woman suddenly, "I've seen you before--yes, yes, it was you. Didn't you once wear a little golden heart and send it to a child? Didn't you once, at the palace, order them to get something to eat for an old woman and have her son set free, and didn't you give her money besides? Good heavens! you're the--"
"Don't mention my name! Only let me rest a moment; ask me nothing, and say nothing more."
"As you don't want me to, certainly not. I'll hurry and get the soup ready for you."
She went out, leaving Irma alone.
Irma lay on the bed, which was nothing more than a sack of leaves that crackled strangely whenever she turned her head. The leaves seemed to say: "Ah! when we were green, we had a better time of it--" The moon shone in through the window; everything seemed dancing before her eyes; she felt as if she were on the open sea. But she soon fell asleep.--When she awoke, she heard a man's voice.