And he said with curious intonation: “The decision is the same as hitherto.”
“But God’s decision! Tell me that!” and the pain in her voice was very terrible.
“The decision of God is that it is as He has made it.”
“That is sufficient. Thank you,” and she moved away; strong only in the friendship of that silent man, who in so few words conveyed so much of meaning.
So once more she made her way to the little hut, where the frog as usual sat waiting; but her lips were set in a smile so stony, that she said never a word, but sat down in her chair by the fire, and forgot to try to form even a syllable.
At last her eyes lighted on the frog sitting there upon the hearth. Its big, wide, mournful mouth drooped at the corners, and its round saucer eyes were brimming with tears, yet there was something very comic in its attitude—so much so that Rosalie laughed. At this it jumped so literally that had it not borne a charmed life it would certainly have settled in the fire, but as it was, it came down inside the fender, and then hopped out.
“Ah! when you laugh in sorrow your heart must needs be broken altogether,” it said.
“Oh, no! I feel nothing, nothing at all, one way or the other, only hard and empty, and sorry, not for myself, but for others, that they should be so blind.”
“It’s well you feel hard. It doesn’t do to feel soft at times like this,” said the frog, and tried to speak cheerfully, but somehow failed.
Outside a white mist was settling, so silently that they never noticed it. But just then the frog piled more coal on the fire, and soon the room looked very cheerful.