"But it's a physical impossibility. Don't lie to me, girl. From my experience during the campaign, I know how much fatigue a man can stand."
Now that she saw he was no longer angry she dared to draw herself to her full height. She exhibited her powerful arms proudly, and exclaimed with a pleased smile--
"I can stand more than any man, Herr, else I should be no good at all."
"For how long have you been going on these journeys, Regina?"
"For five years, Herr. Every week. Sometimes oftener. In summer it's child's play. But in autumn and winter, when the snow lies two feet thick in the wood, or when the meadows are flooded, it's no joke. But there's one thing to be thankful for, the nights are long then, and at least no one can see you. And I'd a hundred times rather walk the six miles than go to that beast--I beg pardon, I mean Herr Merckel--who takes a thaler for a pound of meat. Isn't that abominable? And in the village----"
She paused suddenly, as if she feared being scolded for talking too much.
"What were you going to say, Regina?" he asked in a kindlier tone.
"Oh, nothing, but I should like to beg the Herr's pardon for having gone without leave. But I thought he might perhaps like a change for breakfast--a fresh egg----"
"Never mind, Regina," he said, turning away; "you are a good girl."
He went down to the river to bathe. When he came back he found his room tidied as usual, only the coffee was not there.