projected far over the turbulent brook on the other side of the path.
There was a narrow fissure between this block and the path, so it almost formed a little island, and as a shrub was growing in front of it, I might easily have passed without seeing her, especially as I had been turning my back towards her while looking at the "Wotans Ruhe."
But she revealed herself, whether intentionally or not, by mingling her fresh youthful laughter with my involuntary outburst.
"Never mind," she said, "anyway he deserves to be laughed at!"
She sat on the grass, resting on one arm with the other lying in her lap, and in her hand she held a bunch of the lovely flowers that are so plentiful in these parts.
The sleeves of her pink morning dress were tucked up over the elbows, either for the sake of comfort or coolness. The arm in her lap looked milk-white, while the other one against the rich green grass showed a brownish outer side, and was overspread by a fine down which shone in the rays of the sun, its plump soft form giving the impression of childishness which is so touching in a woman.
The two little girls sat next her, making chains of straw; the juice of the bilberries, which they had been enjoying on the way, was smeared all over their faces. Miss Jagemann's lips also showed traces of the bilberries, and when she laughed her teeth did not shine as usual.
"It is rather incautious of you to speak in that way, Miss Jagemann," I answered, "as you cannot be sure that I am not an anti-Wagnerian."
"In that case you would not mind being laughed at by a girl. But, besides, you are from Denmark, and there
