“‘Yes.’
“‘Will he come soon, grandmother?’
“‘No one knows when he will come.’
“‘May I sit on a stool at his feet?’
“‘You may.’
“‘Grandmother, I am so happy,’ says the little one.
“Evening after evening, through many winters, they both sat by the fire and talked of the good King and his kingdom. The little one dreamed of the kingdom which should last a thousand years, both by night and by day. She never wearied of adorning it with everything beautiful which she could think of.
“Ebba Dohna never dared to speak of it to any one; but from that evening she only lived for the Lord’s kingdom, and to await his coming.
“When the evening sun crimsoned the western sky, she wondered if he would ever appear there, glowing with a mild splendor, followed by a host of millions of angels, and march by her, allowing her to touch the hem of his garment.
“She often thought, too, of those pious women who had hung a veil over their heads, and never lifted their eyes from the ground, but shut themselves in in the gray cloister’s calm, in the darkness of little cells, to always contemplate the glowing visions which appear from the night of the soul.