At last she spoke. "Do you think--does it cost very much to learn to be
a midwife?"
"A midwife--is that what you want to be, girl?" Peer couldn't help
laughing. So this was what she had been planning in these days--since he
had offered to help her on in the world.
"Do you think my hands are too big?" she ventured presently--he could
just hear the whisper.
Peer felt a pang of pity. He had noticed already how ill the red swollen
hands matched her pale clear-cut face, and he knew that in the country,
when any one has small, fine hands, people call them "midwife's hands."
"We'll manage it somehow, I daresay," said Peer, turning round to the
wall. He had heard that it cost several hundred crowns to go through the
course at the midwifery school. It would be years before he could get
together anything like that sum. Poor girl, it looked as if she would
have a long time to wait.
After that they fell silent. The north-wester roared over the housetops,
and presently brother and sister were asleep.
When Peer awoke the next morning, Louise was about already, making
coffee over the little stove. Then she opened her box, took out a yellow
petticoat and hung it on a nail, placed a pair of new shoes against the
wall, lifted out some under-linen and woollen stockings, looked at them,
and put them back again. The little box held all her worldly goods.
As Peer was getting up: "Gracious mercy!" she cried suddenly, "what is
that awful noise down in the yard?"
"Oh, that's nothing to worry about," said Peer.
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