It was a new thing for Laura to find her self on foot in the woods, to push her way through the brambles, and assist her mother in finding a path, and she fretted considerably at the necessity; but her mother, taking no notice of the child's complaints, went resolutely on, as if determined not to listen to anything that would make her unwilling to complete her errand. So, clambering over fallen trees green with moss, and slipping upon the pine needles, and occasionally getting a scratch from a brier, went Lady Idleways and Laura, until they came to an opening in the forest where the blue sky again was visible; but so, also, was a great rock before them, too high for them to climb, and no way to get around it. Pausing a moment, Laura's mother picked up a little stick and rapped with it upon the rock. Instantly from under the hanging vines a door, which no one could have supposed was there, flew open, and from it came forth a neat little old lady in black gown and white cap, leaning upon a gold-headed cane.

She courtesied pleasantly and bade Lady Idleways enter; but Lady Idleways declined, saying, "I have brought my little daughter to you, my friend, as I promised. Do all you can for me and for her. I have bidden her obey you, and I prefer leaving her now, lest my heart fail me. Farewell, little Laura, for a short time. You are in excellent hands, and must not be sad at parting. Give me a pleasant smile and a nice good-bye kiss." And, clasping her in a close embrace, the mother whispered more tender words in her ears, bade the old lady take good care of her, and then turned hastily away, as if she feared to linger.

Laura beheld all this in quiet astonishment; then, as her mother left her, she flung herself upon the ground and wept passionately. But she was not allowed to do this very long, for the old lady, rapping her cane upon the rock, summoned to her assistance a funny old servant, as quaint and as curious as herself, a dwarf of kindly, smiling face, dressed in a gray blouse, with wooden shoes upon his feet, and a scarlet cap with a long tassel on his head.

"Hey, little missy!" said the old lady, "this will not do at all. Grim, pick her up and take her to her own little bedroom in my cottage. If she wishes to, she may lie there, but not here upon the ground."

As Grim approached and was about lifting her, Laura sprang up, and would have run from him, but his arms were of an extraordinary length, and he had her safely in them before she could get away; so she could only scream and sob to no purpose.

Grim whispered to her not to fear, that his mistress was very kind and good; and his own voice was so gentle, and she was so curious to see the interior of so strange an abode, that in a little while she ceased crying and looked about her.

They went in under the hidden doorway, which led to a winding path through the rocks. Here and there the sky could be seen through the foliage above, but the path was nearly all under a shelving mass of stone. At last they came to a little cottage, not much more than a hut, but it was neat and spotless; it looked as if it might be nothing but a bird's-nest built of grape-vines; but within were a tiled floor, a chimney-corner where hung a savory-smelling kettle of soup, and curiously carved chairs and shelves were against the walls.

Grim mounted a ladder in one corner, still with Laura in his arms, and placed her in a tidy upper room, where were one window, a little stool, and a straw bed.

"There, child; now do be good, and don't trouble the Motherkin. She is used to children, and they all learn to love her; and if there is anything I can do for you, I am always ready; but no more of this angry sobbing, I beg of you."

So saying, Grim went off down the ladder, leaving Laura alone.

The child was bewildered. What could she do alone? Never had she been alone at home; the nurses were always beside her, except when she purposely wandered away from them to frighten them.

She looked about her—at the hard but white little bed, at the few pegs on the wall, at the strip of scarlet wool by the bedside, at the bare boards of the floor, at the ebony cross over the head of the bed—and she wondered if this humble little apartment was to be hers. Then she heard the rushing voice of a brook, and she leaned out of the window to see it tumbling over the rocks in merry sport. Tired, homesick, and perplexed, she turned from the window and lay down upon the bed, still listening to the brook, till sleep came and put an end to her wonderings.

She slept heavily a long while, but was wakened by a rapping on the floor beneath.

"Come, child, come; it is time you were hungry. Wash your face outside in the brook, and we will have some dinner," called the Motherkin.

She did not dare disobey, but sullenly crept down the ladder and went out to the brook, as she had been told. The pure cold stream refreshed her, and she could have dabbled in it willingly a longer time, but again came the call:

"Come, come; it is late. Grim has to go on a journey, or I should have asked you to set the table and help me prepare the dinner; but he was in haste, and has done it all.

"What will you have, child?—brown bread and cheese, good sweet milk, curds, and cream?"

"Peasant fare," thought Laura; "such as our cowherds at home have. I will not eat;" and she drew disdainfully off; but the Motherkin took no notice of her disdain, and placed some food before her. She was too hungry long to refuse, but she almost choked over the coarse brown bread. It was good, however, and so was all the rest, and in spite of herself she ate abundantly.

The old lady smiled whimsically, and bade her, as soon as she had finished her meal, tie on a long apron and assist her in putting things in order. This was really unbearable.

"No, I will not do it," said Laura, firmly.

"Oh, my little damsel, do not be ungracious," said the Motherkin. "I shall have to ask your assistance in many things, for my good, faithful Grim has to be away; he has had to go in search of a wonderful herb which heals many ailments, and which is only found in a region far from here; and as it is to relieve poor sick people, I cannot refuse to allow him. His absence, however, obliges me to do his work, and I am sure you will not see an old friend of your mother making unnecessary exertions that a young pair of arms and legs can do so much better than old ones."

At this Laura opened her eyes in astonishment, and glancing down at her dress, murmured,

"I am not allowed at home to soil my clothes or my hands; they will get too coarse and rough, Nannette, my nurse, says."

"No matter for Nannette; you are too much of a lady not to assist me. Come, we will arrange about the clothes afterwards. I have some pretty little gingham gowns which will fit you, and we will lay aside these fine feathers."

Thus appealed to, though in a very novel manner, on the score of her ladyhood, Laura tied on the apron and obeyed the Motherkin with less reluctance. She was awkward, and made mistakes. She placed cups where plates should go, and turned things upside down and downside up. And when the old lady told her she had done enough, she sat down and cried for vexation, she had done so badly. Again came the whimsical little smile on the Motherkin's face, and, opening the door, she said,

"Come, Laura, and see my cow and my pig, and let me show you my garden."

Laura rose, but scorned the amusement, and soon found herself admiring both cow and pig, for both were white and clean as two roses; and when the Motherkin showed her a corner which was to be her own garden, to dig in as she pleased, she no longer felt contemptuously as she had done. But the novelty of having a garden and being allowed to dig in it did not make her less homesick and dreary when bedtime came, and she had to creep off alone to the clean but hard little bed. She slept, though, soundly and well.