Little by little my crying stopped and I began to follow a new train of thought. I would stay in this corner all my life—yes, and starve to death—perhaps steal out at night and get a little food—but no one should know that I lay in hiding here; and when many years later they found me behind the hay-cutter, lying dead with a tear-stained face—then horrid Great-Aunt would be sorry enough.
Suddenly I heard Aunt Magda’s voice right near me.
“Oh, my dear, blessed child! Are you lying here? We’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“Are you very angry about the sheep, Auntie?”
“Oh, far from it! You didn’t mean to do any harm. Great-Aunt is very hasty, you know.”
“And Uncle?”
“Oh, Uncle will understand,” said Aunt Magda, comfortingly. “And now, my jewel, don’t think of it any more.”
Oh, how I loved Aunt Magda! How unspeakably, unspeakably! The whole afternoon I sat close beside her or followed her about. I would not leave her for an instant.
At last the day came for us to go home, traveling this time by the steamer.