26 MY NIGHTINGALE.

and liked. She willingly agreed to watch
by Holger for half an hour. Then the
poor mother hastily put on her bonnet
and shawl, and hurried through the dimly-
_ lighted streets towards Havnsgade, where
_ Andersen lived. She clasped the little
letter to her heart, but her courage almost
failed her as she neared her destination.
She was a timid little woman, and she
feared troubling the great man.

“For Holger’s sake,” she repeated over
_and over again with trembling lips, as she
rang the bell.

The servant who answered it seemed
surprised at her request to see her master,
and was half inclined to refuse. But Frue
Jespersen’s haggard face and piteous eyes
moved her to pity.

“Tt is a matter of life or death,” said
the poor woman, leaning against the door
for support.

She was shown into a sitting-room, but