'Quite that, but the rest of the way is mostly uphill, so it takes longer, you see.' As she spoke, Fraulein drew something out of the little bag on her arm which she was seldom without. It was one of the small grayish apples which they had bought from the old woman in the market-place. 'You forgot these,' she said, holding the apple out to Leonore. 'I found them last night after you were asleep, and I thought you might like one or two on our way to-day. I believe they will prove very good.'
'How stupid of me to have forgotten them,' said the little girl, as she bit off a piece. 'Yes,' she went on, 'it is very good indeed—you would not believe how sweet and juicy it tastes. Won't you eat one yourself?'
Fraulein was quite willing to do so, and soon got out another. 'The rest,' she said, 'are in my travelling-bag in the carriage. I am glad I was not mistaken,' she went on. 'I felt sure they were the same ugly little apples I remember as a child.'
'And oh,' said Leonore, suddenly diving into her jacket pocket, 'that reminds me, Fraulein—where are the nuts she gave me? They're not in this pocket, and,' feeling in the other, 'oh dear! they must have dropped out; there are only three left, and I am sure she gave me at least twenty.'
'Well, never mind, dear,' said the governess, who was contentedly munching her apple. 'They would not have been good for you to eat—you would have had to throw them away, and so long as the poor old dame's feelings were not hurt, it really is of no consequence.'
But Leonore was still eyeing the three nuts in her hand with a look of regret.
'I don't know,' she said. 'I might have used them for counters, or played with them somehow. It seems unkind to have lost them—do you want me to throw these last three away?' she went on rather plaintively.
'Oh no,' said Fraulein, 'you may keep them certainly if you like. And even if you eat them, three can't do you much harm.'