“Ha! I see how it is! The old woman wants to fatten¹ me! That is why she gives me such nice creamy milk. She doesn’t kill me now because she’s going to kill me then! She is an ogress, after all!”

 

Thereupon she laid down her spoon, and would not eat another mouthful—only followed the basin with longing² looks, as the wise woman carried it away.

 

When she stopped eating, her hostess knew exactly what she was thinking; but it was one thing to understand the princess, and quite another to make the princess understand her: that would require time. For the present she took no notice, but went about the affairs of the house, sweeping³ the floor, brushing down the cobwebs, cleaning the hearth⁴, dusting the table and chairs, and watering the bed to keep it fresh and alive—for she never had more than one guest at a time, and never would allow that guest to go to sleep upon any thing that had no life in it. All the time she was thus busied, she spoke⁵ not a word to the princess, which, with the princess, went to confirm her notion of her purposes. But whatever she might have said would have been only perverted⁶ by the princess into yet stronger proof of her evil designs, for a fancy in her own head would outweigh⁷ any multitude of facts in another’s. She kept staring at the fire, and never looked round to see what the wise woman might be doing.

 

By and by she came close up to the back of her chair, and said,

 

“Rosamond!”

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