CHAPTER V.
The evening of preparation was an unquiet one. Hansei, who had much to do, would again and again busy himself with the cow-bells, the tones of which pleased him greatly. He had purchased a well-tuned set, and Irma had praised them when he showed them to her.
They went to bed early, for, on the next morning, they would have to rise long before daybreak.
Hansei, who had been asleep for some time, awoke and heard Walpurga crying and sobbing.
"For God's sake! what's the matter?"
"Oh, if mother were only living!" said Walpurga. "If I only still had my mother!"
"Don't act so. Don't cry, now; it's sinful!"
"What? A sin to mourn for my mother?"
"It all depends on how you mourn. I've often heard it said that, so long as grass hasn't grown over the grave, you may weep for the dead without doing harm to them or the living. After that, there should be no more weeping for the dead; for, as the old proverb says: 'It wets their clothes in the other world.' Don't fall into sinful ways, Walpurga. Your mother lived out her time, and thus it is in the world. Parents must die before their children, and, although I trust that our children won't forget us when we're gone, I hope they'll be able to think of us without weeping. But now--why do you let me talk so much? Am I right, or wrong? What makes you so silent?"
"Yes, yes; it's all right. But don't, I beg of you, ask me anything more now. My head is full of all sorts of thoughts. Good-night."