The Home in the Valley | Page 3

she repeated slowly, "it is shameful to call me so! and
how much better it would be to call Magde good mother, than to give
her the title of My Lady! To be poor is not so bad, but to be friendless
is bitter indeed."
As she thus sat, with her eyes fixed mournfully upon the distant object
which was the roof of an elegant house, which was barely visible over
the brow of a hill, she was startled by the noise of approaching
footsteps. She had scarcely cast her mantle over her white shoulders,
which she had uncovered during her ablutions, when, to her great
astonishment, she discovered a stranger rapidly approaching towards
her. He was clothed in a light frock coat; a knapsack was fastened upon
his shoulders, and in his hand he swung a knotted stick. Nanna had
never before beheld a personage who resembled the stranger. His face,
browned in the sun, until it resembled that of a gipsy, wore an honest
and frank expression, and his dark curling hair, which fell in thick
clusters from his black felt hat, added to the pleasing aspect of his
countenance.

Nanna, who at her first glance at the youth, had thought him a gipsy,
which wild tribe she greatly feared, was reassured by a second look.
The stranger, on his side, appeared greatly astonished at the sudden
appearance of the beautiful water nymph, for such a goddess Nanna
much resembled, as she stood, with her garments flowing gracefully
around her slight figure; her tiny white feet playing with the moist grass,
and her pale and mournful face, encircled with golden locks, that fell
negligently upon her white and well rounded shoulders.
The youth thus addressed her:
"Pardon me, lovely naiad. It appears that I have taken the wrong path,
although I supposed that I had chosen the right direction."
"Whither are you going?" inquired Nanna, in a voice sweet and
melodious.
"To Almvik," replied the stranger.
"Alas!" said the maid, casting a peculiar glance at his knapsack, "I
hoped that you were not a member of the aristocracy."
"Oh, my little sylph, for I know not what else to call you, is my face so
poor a recommendation, that I cannot be considered a man because I
carry a pack on my back?"
"Are those of noble birth the only men?" inquired Nanna, and a gloomy
expression fell upon her lips, which a moment before had been
illumined with a sunny smile.
"Ah," replied the youth, "the longer I gaze upon your dear face, the
more I esteem you. Far be it from me to wound your sensitive nature. If
it will comfort you, I will say that no man can long more earnestly than
I do for the time when all mankind shall be equal."
"Do you speak from your heart?"
"I do, earnestly; but tell me your name."

"Nanna, Nanna of the Valley, I am called."
"That is poetical; but have you no other name?"
"I am sometimes called Mademoiselle Nanna; but that grieves me, for
we are poor people."
"Ah! I thought that you were something more than a peasant girl.
Pardon me, I have spoken too familiarly. I knew not your station."
"Familiarly!"
"I addressed you too warmly."
"Your words sounded well when you thus spoke."
"Possibly; but henceforth I shall address you as Mademoiselle Nanna."
"Shall we then see each other again?"
"Yes, yes, quite probably--we are to be neighbors."
"You intend, then, to reside at Almvik?"
"Yes, for a few weeks, perhaps during the whole summer; but I pray
you come with me a few steps on my road, I need your guidance."
Nanna sprang to her feet, and as she stood before the young man, her
eyes sparkling with unusual brilliancy, her garments falling in graceful
folds over her sylph-like limbs, he gazed at her as if enchained by her
almost superhuman beauty. To the youthful stranger's request she
answered by putting her little white feet in such active motion, that they
seemed to tread upon the air instead of the green sward.
CHAPTER II.
THE COTTAGE.
The interior of the little building to which we now turn, was thus

arranged: The ground floor was divided into a kitchen and three other
apartments, viz:--a middle sized room, by favor called the parlor, in
which was generally the dwelling place of the family, and a small
chamber on either side of the parlor. One of these was the bed-chamber
of Carl Lonner, and the other was occupied by his eldest son and his
wife.
The upper story, that is, the attic, contained two divisions, and the sole
dominion of these airy apartments was granted to two younger
members of the family; the front room belonging to Nanna, and the
other to her brother Carl, known