For there was a war in the land.  And when, after a time, the armies came near enough to the forest for the children to hear occasionally the roll of the heavy guns, a strange thing happened.

One evening when they arrived at home, they found in their humble little cottage one of the gay-looking cavaliers they had sometimes seen on the forest road, and with him was a very beautiful lady.  Old Nurse Heine was getting the spare room ready by beating up the great feather bed, and laying down on the floor the few strips of carpet they possessed.  Their father was talking with the strangers, and he told them that Carl and Greta were his children; but they took no notice of them, for they were completely taken up with each other, for the gentleman, it appeared, was going away, and to leave the lady there.  Carl greatly admired this cavalier, and had no doubt he was the noblest-looking man in the world, and studied him so closely that he would have known him among a thousand.  Presently the forester led his children out of the cottage, and soon after the cavalier came out, and springing upon his horse, galloped away among the dark pines.

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The strange lady was at the cottage several weeks, and the children soon learned to love her dearly.  She was fond of rambling about with them, and was seldom to be found within the house when the weather was fair.  She never went near the road, but preferred the oak wood, and sometimes when the children were amusing themselves she would sit for hours absorbed in deep thought or singing to herself in a sad and dreamy way.

At other times she would interest herself in the children, and tell them of things in the world outside the forest.  She praised Carl’s pictures, and showed him how to work in his colors so as to more effectively bring out the perspective, and tried to educate his taste, as far as she could, by describing the pictures of the great masters.  She often said afterwards that she could never have lived through those dark days but for the comfort she found in the children.

Carl saw that she was sorrowful, and he understood that her sadness was not because of the plain fare and the way of living at the forester’s cottage, which he knew must seem rough indeed to her, but because of some great grief.  What this grief was he could not guess, for the children had been told nothing about the beautiful lady, except that her name was Lady Clarice.  She never complained, but the boy’s wistful eyes would follow her as she moved among the trees, and his heart would swell with pity; and how he would long to do something to prove to her how he loved her!

The forester told Carl that the cavalier was with the army.  But he did not come to the cottage, and there was no way for the Lady Clarice to hear from him, and she shuddered at the sound of the great guns.  And finally she fell sick.  Nurse Heine did what she could for her, but the lady grew worse.  She felt that she should die, and it almost broke Carl’s heart to hear her moaning:  “Oh! if I could but see him once more!” He knew she meant the noble cavalier, but how should he get word to him?  The old forester was just then stiff with rheumatism, and could scarcely move from his chair.