'She must have picked them up somehow,' said Fraulein.

Aunt Anna shook her head.

'A baby of a few days old cannot pick things up,' she said. 'No, it has never been explained. None of the servants had put them into her hand--indeed they would not have been so foolish, and they could scarcely have had the chance of doing so. And it was said by the one or two who declared they had met her, that the beautiful lady was carrying a basket on her arm filled with common hazel-nuts, and some days afterwards one of the foresters said that late that same evening a little old woman whom he had never seen before stopped him up in the high woods to ask the way to some strange place of which he had never heard, and she--the little old woman--was carrying a basket of nuts. She offered him some, but he thought she was a witch and would not have any.'

'Dear me, Aunt Anna,' exclaimed her niece, 'I did not know all these wonderful tales. Surely they grew out of finding the nuts in the baby's hands. I do remember hearing _that_, though I had forgotten it.'

'Perhaps that was the origin of it all,' said her aunt quietly. 'Still, Hildegarde is an uncommon child. It certainly seems as if she had received some fairy gifts, however they came to her.'

Leonore did not speak, but she listened intently. She would probably have not contented herself with listening but for knowing that she was so soon to see Hildegarde herself again.

'_She_ will be the best person to ask,' thought Leonore. 'I will tell her about _my_ nuts and the little old woman who gave me them, and about the pretty laugh I heard in the wood, and then, I feel sure, she will tell me all _she_ knows.'

She could scarcely finish her dinner, so eager and excited did she feel.

And she was more than delighted when, at the close of the meal, kind Fraulein proposed to her that, as Hildegarde had come to meet _them_ that morning, Leonore should show her new little friend the same attention.

'You can scarcely miss her,' she said. 'She is sure to come the same way that I took you this morning. If you get ready now, and start in a quarter of an hour or so, you will be about right, I should say. They dine early at the Castle. But I should like you to change your dress in case you should be presented to the Baroness--Hildegarde's grandmamma.'

Leonore ran off to get ready. She was not long about it, but all the same her new little friend must have been even quicker, for Leonore met her a very few steps only from Aunt Anna's gate. Hildegarde's face lighted up with a smile when she caught sight of the other little girl.

'So you have come to meet me,' she said; 'that is very nice of you. I hope I have not come too soon. Shall I go in now to see Aunt Anna?'

Leonore looked a little disappointed, which Hildegarde seemed at once to understand.

'I don't mean to _stay_ with Aunt Anna,' she added quickly; 'what I want is for you and me to go out somewhere together. It is a lovely day, and I have leave to stay out till dusk. My grandmamma is going to pay some visits, so she hopes to see you some other day--perhaps to-morrow. I think we shall get to know each other far the best by being alone by ourselves--don't you think so?'

'Yes, certainly,' said Leonore, her face clearing. 'I am so glad you understand. I have such a lot of things to talk to you about.'

Hildegarde nodded her head. It was a little habit of hers to do so without speaking sometimes.

'Then we must not lose any of our time,' she said, after a moment's pause. 'But first I will run in to give Aunt Anna a kiss, and then we can go off somewhere together.'

Aunt Anna's face was full of pleasure at the sight of her little friend--the two were evidently old acquaintances.

'How well you are looking, my child,' she said, 'and how much you have grown! Let me see, which is the taller, you or our little Leonore,' and she drew the two children together. 'There is not a quarter of an inch between you,' she exclaimed. 'If you were ponies you would be a perfect match--one dark and one fair,' she added musingly. 'Yes, my dears, you are evidently intended to be friends.'

'And that is just what we mean to be,' said Hildegarde. 'May we go now, Aunt Anna? You will not be anxious even if Leonore does not come home till dark?'

'Oh no,' said the old lady tranquilly, 'I know you are as safe as you can be--you are going to the woods, I suppose?'

'I think so,' Hildegarde replied.

As soon as they found themselves out of doors again, she took Leonore's hand.

'Let us run quickly through the village,' she said, 'and then when we get inside the Castle grounds we can go slowly and talk as we go. Or perhaps we can sit down--it is so mild, and there are lots of cosy places among the trees.'

Leonore was quite pleased to do as Hildegarde proposed; indeed she had a curious feeling that whatever her new little friend wished she would like. She did not speak much, for it seemed to her as if she were meant in the first place to listen.

The woods were very lovely that afternoon. Hildegarde led the way round the Castle without approaching it quite closely, till they stood in a little clearing, from which they looked upwards into the rows of pine-trees, through which here and there the afternoon sunshine made streaks of light and brightness.

'Isn't it pretty here?' said Hildegarde. 'Hush--there's a squirrel--there are lots about here; they are so tame they like to be near the house, I think. Shall we sit down? It is quite dry.'

Leonore was not troubled with any fears of catching cold--and indeed the day was as mild as summer.

'Yes,' she said, 'it is a very pretty place. I have never seen such big woods before.'

'They go on for miles and miles--up ever so far,' said Hildegarde, 'though here and there the ground is quite flat for a bit. And over there,' she pointed to the left, 'they are not pine woods, but all sorts of other trees. I don't know which I like best.'

'Pine woods _I_ should say,' Leonore replied. 'Perhaps because I have never seen such beautiful high fir-trees before. And the way the sun peeps through them is so pretty.'

As she spoke, half unconsciously her hand strayed to her jacket pocket.

There lay safely the little packet containing the three nuts.

'Hildegarde,' she said, 'I heard the story about you when you were a baby, and what they found in your hand. And--it is very odd--do you know--no, of course you couldn't--but just fancy, _I_ have three nuts too!'

Hildegarde nodded her head.

'I _did_ know,' she said, smiling. 'And--look here.'

From the front of her frock she drew out a little green silk bag drawn in at the top with tiny white ribbon. She opened it carefully, and took out something which she held towards Leonore--on her pretty pink palm lay three nuts, common little brown nuts, just like Leonore's. And Leonore unwrapped her own packet and in the same way held out its contents.

'Yes,' said Hildegarde, 'it is all right. I knew you had them.'

Leonore stared at her in astonishment.

'How could you know?' she exclaimed.

'I suppose people would say I dreamt it,' Hildegarde replied, 'but I don't call it dreaming. I have always known things like that since I was a baby. And I knew that some day I should have a friend like you, and that together we should have lovely adventures, and now it is going to come true.'

Leonore grew rosy red with excitement.

'Do you mean,' she began, 'Hildegarde, _can_ you mean that perhaps we are going to find the way to Fairyland? _I_ have been thinking about it ever since I can remember anything.'

Hildegarde nodded.

'Yes,' she said, 'I am sure you have. But I don't quite know about Fairyland itself. I am not sure if any one ever gets _quite_ there--into the very insidest part, you know. I almost think we should have to be turned into fairies for that, and then we never could be little girls again, you see. But I am sure we are going to see some wonderful things--there are the outside parts of Fairyland, you know.'

'Fraulein says all this country is on the borders of Fairyland,' said Leonore.

'Well, so it is, I daresay, for fairies _do_ come about here sometimes.

You've heard the story of the one that came to my christening feast?'

'Yes,' said Leonore, 'and I am beginning to think that I have seen her too,' and she went on to tell Hildegarde about the little old dame in the market-place at Alt who had given her the nuts, and about the mischievous laugh she had heard in the wood on the way to Dorf, and all her own thoughts and fancies, including her dream of Hildegarde herself.

Hildegarde listened attentively.

'I feel sure you are right,' she said, 'and that the dame _was_ my own fairy, as I call her. And I believe the laugh you heard in the wood was when you were hoping you hadn't lost the last three nuts. I don't believe you could have lost them; if you had thrown them away they would have come back to you. Just think how my three have always been kept safe, even though I was only a tiny baby when they were put into my hand.'