"Tell privy councilor Gunther," said she, "that I await him here, and that the nurse of his royal highness has arrived."
The lackey left the room. The countess now touched the bell twice; a tall lady, advanced in years, and wearing long, corkscrew curls, appeared, and bowed so low that Walpurga imagined she intended to sit down on the floor.
"Come nearer, dear Kramer," said the countess. "This is the nurse of his royal highness; she is in your especial charge. Take her to your room and let her have something to eat. What shall it be, doctor?"
"Good beef broth will do very well."
"Go with Kramer," said the countess, addressing Walpurga, and smiling graciously. "Whenever you want any thing, dear child, ask her for it. God be with you!"
The lady with the corkscrew curls, offering her hand to Walpurga, said: "Come with me, my good woman."
Walpurga nodded a grateful assent.
And so, after all, there was some one to take her by the hand and speak German to her. And they were kind words, too, for the old lady had addressed her as "dear child," and mademoiselle as "my good woman." While they were speaking French, it had seemed as if she were betrayed, for she could not help feeling that they were talking of her. Mademoiselle Kramer now conducted her to the second room beyond.
"And now let me bid you welcome!" said the lady, while her homely face suddenly acquired a charming expression. "Give me both hands. Let us be good friends, for we'll always be together, by day and by night! They call me the chief-stewardess."
"And I'm called Walpurga."