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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c074eaf --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #55825 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/55825) diff --git a/old/55825-0.txt b/old/55825-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index e64cd36..0000000 --- a/old/55825-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,17175 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Hardy Norseman, by Edna Lyall - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - - -Title: A Hardy Norseman - - -Author: Edna Lyall - - - -Release Date: October 27, 2017 [eBook #55825] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A HARDY NORSEMAN*** - - -E-text prepared by Richard Tonsing, MFR, and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from page images generously made -available by Internet Archive (https://archive.org) - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustrations. - See 55825-h.htm or 55825-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/55825/55825-h/55825-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/55825/55825-h.zip) - - - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - https://archive.org/details/hardynorseman00lyal - - -Transcriber’s note: - - Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). - - - - - -A HARDY NORSEMAN - -by - -EDNA LYALL - -Author of “Donovan,” “Knight Errant,” Etc. - - - - - - -[Illustration] - -Chicago -Donohue, Henneberry & Co. -Publishers - -[Illustration: - - PRINTED - AND BOUND BY - - DONOHUE & - HENNEBERRY - - CHICAGO] - - - - - CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER I. - CHAPTER II. - CHAPTER III. - CHAPTER IV. - CHAPTER V. - CHAPTER VI. - CHAPTER VII. - CHAPTER VIII. - CHAPTER IX. - CHAPTER X. - CHAPTER XI. - CHAPTER XII. - CHAPTER XIII. - CHAPTER XIV. - CHAPTER XV. - CHAPTER XVI. - CHAPTER XVII. - CHAPTER XVIII. - CHAPTER XIX. - CHAPTER XX. - CHAPTER XXI. - CHAPTER XXII. - CHAPTER XXIII. - CHAPTER XXIV. - CHAPTER XXV. - CHAPTER XXVI. - CHAPTER XXVII. - CHAPTER XXVIII. - CHAPTER XXIX. - CHAPTER XXX. - CHAPTER XXXI. - CHAPTER XXXII. - CHAPTER XXXIII. - CHAPTER XXXIV. - CHAPTER XXXV. - CHAPTER XXXVI. - CHAPTER XXXVII. - CHAPTER XXXVIII. - CHAPTER XXXIX. - CHAPTER XL. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - A HARDY NORSEMAN. - - - - - CHAPTER I. - - -“You say your things are all ready, Cecil? Then I’ll just go below and -do up my Gladstone, and put it in your cabin. We shall be at Bergen -before long, they say.” - -The speaker was a young Englishman of three-or-four-and-twenty, and the -sister addressed by him was still in the first flush of girlhood, having -but a few days before celebrated her nineteenth birthday. - -“Let me see to your bag, Roy,” she exclaimed. “It is a shame that you -should miss this lovely bit of the fjord, and I shall do it in half the -time.” - -“The conceit of women!” he exclaimed, with a smile in which brotherly -love and the spirit of teasing were about equally blended. “No, no, Cis, -I’m not going to let you spoil me. I shall be up again in ten minutes. -Have you not made any friends here? Is there no one on deck you can talk -to?” - -“I don’t want to talk,” said Cecil. “Truth to tell, I am longing to get -away from all these English people. Very unsociable of me, isn’t it?” - -Roy Boniface turned away with a smile, understanding her feeling well -enough, and Cecil, with her back to the chattering tourist throng, let -her eyes roam over the shining waters of the fjord to the craggy -mountains on the further shore, whose ever-varying forms had been -delighting her since the early morning. - -She herself made a fair picture, though her beauty was not of the order -which quickly draws attention. There was nothing very striking in her -regular features, fair complexion, and light-brown hair; to a casual -observer she would have seemed merely an average English girl, gentle, -well-mannered, and nice-looking. It was only to those who took pains to -study her that her true nature was revealed; only at times that her -quiet gray eyes would flash into sudden beauty with the pleasure of -meeting with some rare and unexpected sympathy; only in some special -need that the force of her naturally retiring nature made itself felt as -a great influence. - -Cecil had passed a year of emancipated girlhood, she had for a whole -year been her own mistress, had had time and money at her disposal and -no special duties to take the place of her school-work. It was the time -she had been looking forward to all her life, the blissful time of -grown-up freedom, and now that it had come it had proved a disappointing -illusion. Whether the fault was in herself or in her circumstances she -did not know; but like so many girls of her age she was looking out on -life with puzzled eyes, hardly knowing what it was that had gone amiss, -yet conscious of a great want, of a great unrest, of a vague -dissatisfaction which would not be reasoned down. - -“Cecil is looking poorly,” had been the home verdict; and the mother, -not fully understanding the cause, but with a true instinct as to the -remedy, had suggested that the brother and sister should spend a month -abroad, grieving to lose Cecil from the usual family visit to the -seaside, but perceiving with a mother’s wisdom and unselfishness that it -was time, as she expressed it, for her young one to try its wings. - -So the big steamer plied its way up the fjord bearing Cecil Boniface and -her small troubles and perplexities to healthy old Norway, to gain there -fresh physical strength, and fresh insights into that puzzling thing -called life; to make friendships, spite of her avowed unsociableness, to -learn something more of the beauty of beauty, the joy of joy, and the -pain of pain. - -She was no student of human nature; at present with girlish impatience -she turned away from the tourists, frankly avowing her conviction that -they were a bore. She was willing to let her fancy roam to the fortunes -of some imaginary Rolf and Erica living, perhaps, in some one or other -of the solitary red-roofed cottages to be seen now and then on the -mountain-side; but the average English life displayed on the deck did -not in the least awaken her sympathies, she merely classified the -passengers into rough groups and dismissed them from her mind. There was -the photographic group, fraternizing over the cameras set up all in a -little encampment at the forecastle end. There was the clerical group, -which had for its center no fewer than five gaitered bishops. There was -the sporting group, distinguished by light-brown checked suits, and -comfortable traveling-caps. There was the usual sprinkling of pale, -weary, overworked men and women come for a much-needed rest. And there -was the flirting group—a notably small one, however, for Norwegian -traveling is rough work and is ill-suited to this genus. - -“Look, here, Blanche,” exclaimed a gray-bearded Englishman, approaching -a pretty little brunette who had a most sweet and winsome expression, -and who was standing so near to the camp-stool on which Cecil had -ensconced herself that the conversation was quite audible to her. “Just -see if you can’t make out this writing; your eyes are better than mine. -It is from Herr Falck, the Norwegian agent for our firm. I dare say your -father told you about him.” - -“Yes, papa said he was one of the leading merchants out here and would -advise us what to see, and where to go.” - -“Quite so. This letter reached me just as I was leaving home, and is to -say that Herr Falck has taken rooms for us at some hotel. I can read it -all well enough except the names, but the fellow makes such outrageous -flourishes. What do you make of this sentence, beginning with ‘My son -Frithiof’?” - -“Uncle! uncle! what shocking pronunciation! You must not put in an -English ‘th.’ Did you never hear of the Frithiof Saga? You must say it -quickly like this—Freet-Yoff.” - -“A most romantic name,” said Mr. Morgan. “Now I see why you have been so -industrious over your Norwegian lessons. You mean to carry on a -desperate flirtation with Herr Frithiof. Oh! that is quite clear—I shall -be on the lookout!” - -Blanche laughed, not at all resenting the remark, though she bent her -pretty face over the letter, and pretended to have great difficulty in -reading Herr Falck’s very excellent English. - -“Do you want to hear this sentence?” she said, “because if you do I’ll -read it.” - -“‘My son Frithiof will do himself the honor to await your arrival at -Bergen on the landing-quay, and will drive you to Holdt’s Hotel, where -we have procured the rooms you desired. My daughter Sigrid (See-gree) is -eager to make the acquaintance of your daughter and your niece, and if -you will all dine with us at two o’clock on Friday at my villa in -Kalvedalen we shall esteem it a great pleasure.’” - -“Two-o’clock dinner!” exclaimed Florence Morgan, for the first time -joining in the general conversation. “What an unheard-of hour!” - -“Oh! everything is primitive simplicity out here,” said Mr. Morgan. “You -needn’t expect London fashions.” - -“I suppose Frithiof Falck will be a sort of young Viking, large-boned -and dignified, with a kind of good-natured fierceness about him,” said -Blanche, folding the letter. - -“No, no,” said Florence, “he’ll be a shy, stupid country bumpkin, afraid -of airing his bad English, and you will step valiantly into the breach -with your fluent Norwegian, and your kindness will win his heart. Then -presently he will come up in his artless and primitive way with a _Vaer -saa god_ (if you please) and will take your hand. You will reply _Mange -tak_ (many thanks), and we shall all joyfully dance at your wedding.” - -There was general laughter, and some trifling bets were made upon the -vexed question of Frithiof Falck’s appearance. - -“Well,” said Mr. Morgan, “it’s all very well to laugh now, but I hope -you’ll be civil to the Falcks when we really meet. And as to you, -Cyril,” he continued, turning to his nephew, a limp-looking young man of -one-and-twenty, “get all the information you can out of young Falck, but -on no account allow him to know that your father is seriously thinking -of setting you at the head of the proposed branch at Stavanger. When -that does come about, of course Herr Falck will lose our custom, and no -doubt it will be a blow to him; so mind you don’t breathe a word about -it, nor you either, girls. We don’t want to spoil our holiday with -business matters, and besides, one should always consider other people’s -feelings.” - -Cecil set her teeth and the color rose to her cheeks; she moved away to -the other side of the deck that she might not hear any more. - -“What hateful people! they don’t care a bit for the kindness and -hospitality of these Norwegians. They only mean just to use them as a -convenience.” Then as her brother rejoined her she exclaimed, “Roy, who -are those vulgar people over on the other side?” - -“With two pretty girls in blue ulsters? I think the name is Morgan, rich -city people. The old man’s not bad, but the young one’s a born snob. -What do you think I heard him say as he was writing his name in the book -and caught sight of ours. ‘Why, Robert Boniface—that must be the -music-shop in Regent Street. Norway will soon be spoiled if all the cads -take to coming over.’ And there was I within two yards of him.” - -“Oh, Roy! he couldn’t have known or he would never have said it.” - -“Oh, yes, he knew it well enough. It was meant for a snub, richly -deserved by the presuming tradesman who dared to come to Norway for his -holiday instead of eating shrimps at Margate, as such cattle should, you -know!” and Roy laughed good-humoredly. Snubs had a way of gliding off -him like water off a duck’s back. - -“I should have hated it,” said Cecil. “What did you do?” - -“Nothing; studied Baedeker with an imperturbable face, and reflected -sapiently with William of Wykeham that neither birth nor calling but -‘manners makyth man.’ But look! this must be Bergen. What a glorious -view! If only you had time to sketch it just from here!” - -Cecil, after one quick exclamation of delight, was quite silent, for -indeed few people can see unmoved that exquisite view which is unfolded -before them as they round the fjord and catch the first glimpse of the -most beautiful town in Norway. Had she been alone she would have allowed -the tears of happiness to come into her eyes, but being on a crowded -steamer she fought down her emotion and watched in a sort of dream of -delight the picturesque wooden houses, the red-tiled roofs, the quaint -towers and spires, the clear still fjord, with its forest of masts and -rigging, and the mountains rising steep and sheer, encircling Bergen -like so many hoary old giants who had vowed to protect the town. - -Meanwhile, the deck resounded with those comments which are so very -irritating to most lovers of scenery; one long-haired æsthete gave vent -to a fresh adjective of admiration about once a minute, till Roy and -Cecil were forced to flee from him and to take refuge among the sporting -fraternity, who occasionally admitted frankly that it was “a fine view,” -but who obtruded their personality far less upon their companions. - -“Oh, Roy, how we shall enjoy it all!” said Cecil, as they drew near to -the crowded landing-quay. - -“I think we shall fit in, Cis,” he said, smiling. “Thank Heaven, you -don’t take your pleasure after the manner of that fellow. If I were his -traveling companion I should throttle him in a week.” - -“Or suggest a muzzle,” said Cecil, laughing; “that would save both his -neck and your feelings.” - -“Let me have your key,” he said, as they approached the wooden pier; -“the custom-house people will be coming on board, and I will try to get -our things looked over quickly. Wait here and then I shall not miss -you.” - -He hastened away and Cecil scanned with curious eyes the faces of the -little crowd gathered on the landing-quay, till her attention was -arrested by a young Norwegian in a light-gray suit who stood laughing -and talking to an acquaintance on the wooden wharf. He was tall and -broad-shouldered, with something unusually erect and energetic in his -bearing; his features were of the pure Greek type not unfrequently to be -met with in Norway; while his northern birth was attested by a fair skin -and light hair and mustache, as well as by a pair of honest, well-opened -blue eyes which looked out on the world with a boyish content and -happiness. - -“I believe that is Frithiof Falck,” thought Cecil. And the next moment -her idea was confirmed, for as the connecting gangway was raised from -the quay, one of the steamer officials greeted him by name, and the -young Norwegian, replying in very good English, stepped on board and -began looking about as if in search of some one. Involuntarily Cecil’s -eyes followed him; she had a strange feeling that in some way she knew -him, knew him far better than the people he had come to meet. He, too, -seemed affected in the same way, for he came straight up to her, and, -raising his hat and bowing, said, with frank courtesy: - -“Pardon me, but am I speaking to Miss Morgan?” - -“I think the Miss Morgans are at the other side of the gangway; I saw -them a minute ago,” she said, coloring a little. - -“A thousand pardons for my mistake,” said Frithiof Falck. “I came to -meet this English family, you understand, but I have never seen them.” - -“There is Miss Morgan,” exclaimed Cecil; “that lady in a blue ulster; -and there is her uncle just joining her.” - -“Many thanks for your kind help,” said Frithiof, and with a second bow, -and a smile from his frank eyes, he passed on and approached Mr. Morgan. - -“Welcome to Norway, sir,” he exclaimed, greeting the traveler with the -easy, courteous manner peculiar to Norwegians. “I hope you have made a -good voyage.” - -“Oh, how do you do, Mr. Falck?” said the Englishman, scanning him from -head to foot as he shook hands, and speaking very loud, as if the -foreigner were deaf. “Very good of you to meet us, I’m sure. My niece, -Miss Blanche Morgan.” - -Frithiof bowed, and his heart began to beat fast as a pair of most -lovely dark-gray eyes gave him such a glance as he had never before -received. - -“My sister is much looking forward to the pleasure of making your -acquaintance,” he said. - -“Ah!” exclaimed Blanche, “how beautifully you speak English! And how you -will laugh at me when I tell you that I have been learning Norwegian for -fear there should be dead silence between us.” - -“Indeed, there is nothing which pleases us so much as that you should -learn our tongue,” he said, smiling. “My English is just now in its -zenith, for I passed the winter with an English clergyman at Hanover for -the sake of improving it.” - -“But why not have come to England?” said Blanche. - -“Well, I had before that been with a German family at Hanover to perfect -myself in German, and I liked the place well, and this Englishman was -very pleasant, so I thought if I stayed there it would be ‘to kill two -flies with one dash,’ as we say in Norway. When I come to England that -will be for a holiday, for nothing at all but pleasure.” - -“Let me introduce my nephew,” said Mr. Morgan, as Cyril strolled up. -“And this is my daughter. How now, Florence, have you found your boxes?” - -“Allow me,” said Frithiof; “if you will tell me what to look for I will -see that the hotel porter takes it all.” - -There was a general adjournment to the region of pushing and confusion -and luggage, and before long Frithiof had taken the travelers to his -father’s carriage, and they were driving through the long, picturesque -Strand-gaden. Very few vehicles passed through this main street, but -throngs of pedestrians walked leisurely along or stood in groups talking -and laughing, the women chiefly wearing full skirts of dark-blue serge, -short jackets to match, and little round blue serge hoods surmounting -their clean white caps; the men also in dark-blue with broad felt hats. - -To English visitors there is an indescribable charm in the primitive -simplicity, the easy informality of the place: and Frithiof was well -content with the delighted exclamations of the new-comers. - -“What charming ponies!” cried Blanche. “Look how oddly their manes are -cut—short manes and long tails! How funny! we do just the opposite. And -they all seem cream colored.” - -“This side, Blanche, quick! A lot of peasants in sabots! and oh! just -look at those lovely red gables!” - -“How nice the people look, too, so different to people in an English -street. What makes you all so happy over here?” - -“Why, what should make us unhappy?” said Frithiof. “We love our country -and our town, we are the freest people in the world, and life is a great -pleasure in itself, don’t you think? But away in the mountains our -people are much more grave. Life is too lonely there. Here in Bergen it -is perfection.” - -Cyril Morgan regarded the speaker with a pitying eye, and perhaps would -have enlightened his absurd ignorance and discoursed of Pall Mall and -Piccadilly, had not they just then arrived at Holdt’s Hotel. Frithiof -merely waited to see that they approved of their rooms, gave them the -necessary information as to bankers and lionizing, received Mr. Morgan’s -assurance that the whole party would dine at Herr Falck’s the next day, -and then, having previously dismissed the carriage, set out at a brisker -pace than usual on his walk home. - -Blanche Morgan’s surprise at the happy-looking people somehow amused -him. Was it then an out-of-the-way thing for people to enjoy life? For -his own part mere existence satisfied him. But then he was as yet quite -unacquainted with trouble. The death of his mother when he was only -eleven years old had been at the time a great grief, but it had in no -way clouded his after-life, he had been scarcely old enough to realize -the greatness of his loss. Its effect had been to make him cling more -closely to those who were left to him—to his father, to his twin-sister -Sigrid, and to the little baby Swanhild (Svarnheel), whose birth had -cost so much. The home life was an extremely happy one to look back on, -and now that his year of absence was over and his education finished it -seemed to him that all was exactly as he would have it. Faintly in the -distance he looked forward to further success and happiness; being a -fervent patriot he hoped some day to be a king’s minister—the summit of -a Norwegian’s ambition; and being human he had visions of an ideal wife -and an ideal home of his own. But the political career could very well -wait, and the wife too for the matter of that. And yet, as he walked -rapidly along Kong Oscars Gade, through the Stadsport, and past the -picturesque cemeteries which lie on either side of the road, he saw -nothing at all but a vision of the beautiful dark gray eyes which had -glanced up at him so often that afternoon, and in his mind there echoed -the words of one of Bjornson’s poems: - - “To-day is just a day to my mind, - All sunny before and sunny behind, - Over the heather.” - -But the ending of the poem he had quite forgotten. - - - - - CHAPTER II. - - -Herr Falck lived in one of the pretty, unpretentious houses in -Kalvedalen which are chiefly owned by the rich merchants of Bergen. The -house stood on the right-hand side of the road, surrounded by a pretty -little garden; it was painted a light-brown color, and, like most Bergen -houses, it was built of wood. In the windows one could see flowers, and -beyond them white muslin curtains, for æstheticism had not yet -penetrated to Norway. The dark-tiled roof was outlined against a wooded -hill rising immediately behind, with here and there gray rocks peeping -through the summer green of the trees, while in front the chief windows -looked on to a pretty terrace with carefully kept flower-beds, then down -the wooded hill-side to the lake below—the Lungegaardsvand with purple -and gray heights on the further shore, and on one side a break in the -chain of mountains and a lovely stretch of open country. To the extreme -left was the giant Ulriken, sometimes shining and glistening, sometimes -frowning and dark, but always beautiful; while to the right you caught a -glimpse of Bergen with its quaint cathedral tower, and away in the -distance the fjord like a shining silver band in the sun. - -As Frithiof walked along the grassy terrace he could hear sounds of -music floating from the house; some one was playing a most inspiriting -waltz, and as soon as he had reached the open French window of his -father’s study a quaint pair of dancers became visible. A slim little -girl of ten years old, with very short petticoats, and very long golden -hair braided into a pigtail, held by the front paws a fine Esquimaux -dog, who seemed quite to enter into the fun and danced and capered most -cleverly, obediently keeping his long pointed nose over his partner’s -shoulder. The effect was so comical that Frithiof stood laughingly by to -watch the performance for fully half a minute, then, unable to resist -his own desire to dance, he unceremoniously called Lillo the dog away -and whirled off little Swanhild in the rapid waltz which Norwegians -delight in. The languid grace of a London ball-room would have had no -charms for him; his dancing was full of fire and impetuosity, and -Swanhild, too, danced very well; it had come to them both as naturally -as breathing. - -“This is better than Lillo,” admitted the child. “Somehow he’s so -dreadful heavy to get round. Have the English people come? What are they -like?” - -“Oh, they’re middling,” said Frithiof, “all except the niece, and she is -charming.” - -“Is she pretty?” - -“Prettier than any one you ever saw in your life.” - -“Not prettier than Sigrid?” said the little sister confidently. - -“Wait till you see,” said Frithiof. “She is a brunette and perfectly -lovely. There now!” as the music ceased, “Sigrid has felt her left ear -burning, and knows that we are speaking evil of her. Let us come to -confess.” - -With his arms still round the child he entered the pretty bright-looking -room to the right. Sigrid was still at the piano, but she had heard his -voice and had turned round with eager expectation in her face. The -brother and sister were very much alike; each had the same well-cut -Greek features, but Frithiof’s face was broader and stronger, and you -could tell at a glance that he was the more intellectual of the two. On -the other hand, Sigrid possessed a delightful fund of quiet -common-sense, and her judgment was seldom at fault, while, like most -Norwegian girls, she had a most charmingly simple manner, and an -unaffected light-heartedness which it did one good to see. - -“Well! what news?” she exclaimed. “Have they come all right? Are they -nice?” - -“Nice is not the word! charming! beautiful! To-morrow you will see if I -have spoken too strongly.” - -“He says she is even prettier than you, Sigrid,” said Swanhild -mischievously. “Prettier than any one we ever saw!” - -“She? Which of them?” - -“Miss Blanche Morgan, the daughter of the head of the firm, you know.” - -“And the other one?” - -“I hardly know. I didn’t look at her much; the others all seemed to me -much like ordinary English tourists. But she!—Well, you will see -to-morrow.” - -“How I wish they were coming to-night! you make me quite curious. And -father seems so excited about their coming. I have not seen him so much -pleased about anything for a long time.” - -“Is he at home?” - -“No, he went for a walk; his head was bad again. That is the only thing -that troubles me about him, his headaches seem to have become almost -chronic this last year.” - -A shade came over her bright face, and Frithiof too, looked grave. - -“He works very much too hard,” he said, “but as soon as I come of age -and am taken into partnership he will be more free to take a thorough -rest. At present I might just as well be in Germany as far as work goes, -for he will hardly let me do anything to help him.” - -“Here he comes, here he comes!” cried Swanhild, who had wandered away to -the window, and with one accord they all ran out to meet the head of the -house, Lillo bounding on in front and springing up at his master with a -loving greeting. - -Herr Falck was a very pleasant-looking man of about fifty; he had the -same well-chiseled features as Frithiof, the same broad forehead, -clearly marked, level brows, and flexible lips, but his eyes had more of -gray and less of blue in them, and a practiced observer would have -detected in their keen glance an anxiety which could not wholly disguise -itself. His hair and whiskers were iron-gray, and he was an inch or two -shorter than his son. They all stood talking together at the door, the -English visitors still forming the staple of conversation, and the -anxiety giving place to eager hope in Herr Falck’s eyes as Frithiof once -more sung the praises of Blanche Morgan. - -“Have they formed any plan for their tour?” he asked. - -“No; they mean to talk it over with you and get your advice. They all -professed to have a horror of Baedeker, though even with your help I -don’t think they will get far without him.” - -“It is certain that they will not want to stay very long in our Bergen,” -said Herr Falck, “the English never do. What should you say now if you -all took your summer outing at once and settled down at Ulvik or Balholm -for a few weeks, then you would be able to see a little of our friends -and could start them well on their tour.” - -“What a delightful plan, little father!” cried Sigrid; “only you must -come too, or we shall none of us enjoy it.” - -“I would run over for the Sunday, perhaps; that would be as much as I -could manage; but Frithiof will be there to take care of you. What -should you want with a careworn old man like me, now that he is at home -again?” - -“You fish for compliments, little father,” said Sigrid, slipping her arm -within his and giving him one of those mute caresses which are so much -more eloquent than words. “But, quite between ourselves, though Frithiof -is all very well, I shant enjoy it a bit without you.” - -“Yes, yes, father dear,” said Swanhild, “indeed you must come, for -Frithiof he will be just no good at all; he will be sure to dance always -with the pretty Miss Morgan, and to row her about on the fjord all day, -just as he did those pretty girls at Norheimsund and Faleide.” - -The innocent earnestness of the child’s tone made them all laugh, and -Frithiof, vowing vengeance on her for her speech, chased her round and -round the garden, their laughter floating back to Herr Falck and Sigrid -as they entered the house. - -“The little minx!” said Herr Falck, “how innocently she said it, too! I -don’t think our boy is such a desperate flirt though. As far as I -remember, there was nothing more than a sort of boy and girl friendship -at either place.” - -“Oh no,” said Sigrid, smiling. “Frithiof was too much of a school-boy, -every one liked him and he liked every one. I don’t think he is the sort -of man to fall in love easily.” - -“No; but when it does come it will be a serious affair. I very much wish -to see him happily married.” - -“Oh, father! surely not yet. He is so young, we can’t spare him yet.” - -Herr Falck threw himself back in his arm-chair, and mused for a few -minutes. - -“One need not necessarily lose him,” he replied, “and you know, Sigrid, -I am a believer in early marriages—at least for my son; I will not say -too much about you, little woman, for as a matter of fact I don’t know -how I should ever spare you.” - -“Don’t be afraid, little father; you may be very sure I shant marry till -I see a reasonable chance of being happier than I am at home with you. -And when will that be, do you think?” - -He stroked her golden hair tenderly. - -“Not just yet, Sigrid, let us hope. Not just yet. As to our Frithiof, -shall I tell you of the palace in cloud-land I am building for him?” - -“Not that he should marry the pretty Miss Morgan, as Swanhild calls -her?” said Sigrid, with a strange sinking at the heart. - -“Why not? I hear that she is a charming girl, both clever and beautiful, -and indeed it seems to me that he is quite disposed to fall in love with -her at first sight. Of course were he not properly in love I should -never wish him to marry, but I own that a union between the two houses -would be a great pleasure to me—a great relief.” - -He sighed, and for the first time the anxious look in his eyes attracted -Sigrid’s notice. “Father, dear,” she exclaimed, “wont you tell me what -is troubling you? There is something, I think. Tell me, little father.” - -He looked startled, and a slight flush spread over his face; but when he -spoke his voice was reassuring. - -“A business man often has anxieties which can not be spoken of, dear -child. God knows they weigh lightly enough on some men; I think I am -growing old, Sigrid, and perhaps I have never learned to take things so -easily as most merchants do.” - -“Why, father, you were only fifty last birthday; you must not talk yet -of growing old. How do other men learn, do you think, to take things -lightly?” - -“By refusing to listen to their own conscience,” said Herr Falck, with -sudden vehemence. “By allowing themselves to hold one standard of honor -in private life and a very different standard in business transactions. -Oh, Sigrid! I would give a great deal to find some other opening for -Frithiof. I dread the life for him.” - -“Do you think it is really so hard to be strictly honorable in business -life? And yet it is a life that must be lived, and is it not better that -such a man as Frithiof should take it up—a man with such a high sense of -honor?” - -“You don’t know what business men have to stand against,” said Herr -Falck. “Frithiof is a good, honest fellow, but as yet he has seen -nothing of life. And I tell you, child, we often fail in our strongest -point.” - -He rose from his chair and paced the room; it seemed to Sigrid that a -nameless shadow had fallen on their sunny home. She was for the first -time in her life afraid, though the fear was vague and undefined. - -“But there, little one,” said her father, turning toward her again. “You -must not be worried. I get nervous and depressed, that is all. As I told -you, I am growing old.” - -“Frithiof would like to help you more if you would let him,” said -Sigrid, rather wistfully. “He was saying so just now.” - -“And so he shall in the autumn. He is a good lad, and if all goes well I -hope he will some day be my right hand in the business; but I wish him -to have a few months’ holiday first. And there is this one thing, -Sigrid, which I can tell you, if you really want to know about my -anxieties.” - -“Indeed I do, little father,” she said eagerly. - -“There are matters which you would not understand even could I speak of -them; but you know, of course, that I am agent in Norway for the firm of -Morgan Brothers. Well, a rumor has reached me that they intend to break -off the connection and to send out the eldest son to set up a branch at -Stavanger. It is a mere rumor and reached me quite accidentally. I very -much hope it may not be true, but there is no denying that Stavanger -would be in most ways better suited for their purpose; in fact, the -friend who told me of the rumor said that they felt now that it had been -a mistake all along to have the agency here and they had only done it -because they knew Bergen and knew me.” - -“Why is Stavanger a better place for it?” - -“It is better because most of the salmon and lobsters are caught in the -neighborhood of Stavanger, and all the mackerel too to the south of -Bergen. I very much hope the rumor is not true, for it would be a great -blow to me to lose the English connection. Still it is not unlikely, and -the times are hard now—very hard.” - -“And you think your palace in cloud-land for Frithiof would prevent Mr. -Morgan from breaking the connection?” - -“Yes; a marriage between the two houses would be a great thing, it would -make this new idea unlikely if not altogether impossible. I am thankful -that there seems now some chance of it. Let the two meet naturally and -learn to know each other. I will not say a word to Frithiof, it would -only do harm; but to you, Sigrid, I confess that my heart is set on this -plan. If I could for one moment make you see the future as I see it, you -would feel with me how important the matter is.” - -At this moment Frithiof himself entered, and the conversation was -abruptly ended. - -“Well, have you decided?” he asked, in his eager, boyish way. “Is it to -be Ulvik or Balholm? What! You were not even talking about that. Oh, I -know what it was then. Sigrid was deep in the discussion of to-morrow’s -dinner. I will tell you what to do, abolish the romekolle, and let us be -English to the backbone. Now I think of it, Mr. Morgan is not unlike a -walking sirloin with a plum-pudding head. There is your bill of fare, so -waste no more time.” - -The brother and sister went off together, laughing and talking; but when -the door closed behind them the master of the house buried his face in -his hands and for many minutes sat motionless. What troubled thoughts, -what wavering anxieties filled his mind, Sigrid little guessed. It was, -after all, a mere surface difficulty of which he had spoken; of the real -strain which was killing him by inches he could not say a word to any -mortal being, though now in his great misery he instinctively prayed. - -“My poor children!” he groaned. “Oh, God spare them from this shame and -ruin which haunts me. I have tried to be upright and prudent,—it was -only this once that I was rash. Give me success for their sakes, O God! -The selfish and unscrupulous flourish on all sides. Give me this one -success. Let me not blight their whole lives.” - -But the next day, when he went forward to greet his English guests, it -would have been difficult to recognize him as the burdened, careworn man -from whose lips had been wrung that confession and that prayer. All his -natural courtesy and brightness had returned to him; if he thought of -his business at all he thought of it in the most sanguine way possible, -and the Morgans saw in him only an older edition of Frithiof, and -wondered how he had managed to preserve such buoyant spirits in the -cares and uncertainties of mercantile life. The two o’clock dinner -passed off well; Sigrid, who was a clever little housekeeper, had -scouted Frithiof’s suggestion as to the roast beef and plum-pudding, and -had carefully devised a thoroughly Norwegian repast. - -“For I thought,” she explained afterwards to Blanche, when the two girls -had made friends, “that if I went to England I should wish to see your -home life just exactly as it really is, and so I have ordered the sort -of dinner we should naturally have, and did not, as Frithiof advised, -leave out the romekolle.” - -“Was that the stuff like curds and whey?” asked Blanche, who was full of -eager interest in everything. - -“Yes: it is sour cream with bread crumbs grated over it. We always have -a plateful each at dinner, it is quite one of our customs. But -everything here is simple of course, not grand as with you; we do not -keep a great number of servants, or dine late, or dress for the -evening—here there is nothing”—she hesitated for a word, then in her -pretty foreign English added, “nothing ceremonious.” - -“That is just the charm of it all,” said Blanche, in her sweet gracious -way. “It is all so real and simple and fresh, and I think it was -delightful of you to know how much best we should like to have a glimpse -of your real home life instead of a stupid party. Now mamma cares for -nothing but just to make a great show, it doesn’t matter whether the -visitors really like it or not.” - -Sigrid felt a momentary pang of doubt; she had fallen in love with -Blanche Morgan the moment she saw her, but it somehow hurt her to hear -the English girl criticise her own mother. To Sigrid’s loyal nature -there was something out of tune in that last remark. - -“Perhaps you and your cousin would like to see over the house,” she -said, by way of making a diversion. “Though I must tell you that we are -considered here in Bergen to be rather English in some points. That is -because of my father’s business connection with England, I suppose. -Here, you see, in his study he has a real English fireplace; we all like -it much better than the stoves, and some day I should like to have them -in the other rooms as well.” - -“But there is one thing very un-English,” said Blanche. “There are no -passages; instead, I see, all your rooms open out of each other. Such -numbers of lovely plants, too, in every direction; we are not so -artistic, we stand them all in prim rows in a conservatory. This, too, -is quite new to me. What a good idea!” And she went up to examine a -prettily worked sling fastened to the wall, and made to hold newspapers. - -She was too polite, of course, to say what really struck her—that the -whole house seemed curiously simple and bare, and that she had imagined -that one of the leading merchants of Bergen would live in greater style. -As a matter of fact, you might, as Cyril expressed it, have bought the -whole place for an old song, and though there was an air of comfort and -good taste about the rooms and a certain indescribable charm, they were -evidently destined for use and not for show, and with the exception of -some fine old Norwegian silver and a few good pictures Herr Falck did -not possess a single thing of value. - -Contrasted with the huge and elaborately furnished house in Lancaster -Gate with its lavishly strewn knick-knacks, its profusion of all the -beautiful things that money could buy, the Norwegian villa seemed poor -indeed, yet there was something about it which took Blanche’s fancy. - -Later on, when the whole party had started for a walk, and when Frithiof -and Blanche had quite naturally drifted into a _tête-à-tête_, she said -something to this effect. - -“I begin not to wonder that you are so happy,” she added; “the whole -atmosphere of the place is happiness. I wish you could teach us the -secret of it.” - -“Have you then only the gift of making other people happy?” said -Frithiof. “That seems strange.” - -“You will perhaps think me very discontented,” she said, with a pathetic -little sadness in her tone which touched him; “but seeing how fresh and -simple and happy your life is out here makes me more out of heart than -ever with my own home. You must not think I am grumbling; they are very -good to me, you know, and give me everything that money can buy; but -somehow there is so much that jars on one, and here there seems nothing -but kindliness and ease and peace.” - -“I am glad you like our life,” he said; “so very glad.” - -And as she told him more of her home and her London life, and of how -little it satisfied her, her words, and still more her manner and her -sweet eyes, seemed to weave a sort of spell about him, seemed to lure -him on into a wonderful future, and to waken in him a new life. - -“I like him,” thought Blanche to herself. “Perhaps after all this -Norwegian tour will not be so dull. I like to see his eye light up so -eagerly; he really has beautiful eyes! I almost think—I really almost -think I am just a little bit in love with him.” - -At this moment they happened to overtake two English tourists on the -road; as they passed on in front of them Frithiof, with native courtesy, -took off his hat. - -“You surely don’t know that man? He is only a shopkeeper,” said Blanche, -not even taking the trouble to lower her voice. - -Frithiof crimsoned to the roots of his hair. - -“I am afraid he must have heard what you said,” he exclaimed, quickening -his pace in the discomfort of the realization. “I do not know him -certainly, but one is bound to be courteous to strangers.” - -“I know exactly who he is,” said Blanche, “for he and his sister were on -the steamer, and Cyril found out all about them. He is Boniface, the -music-shop man.” - -Frithiof was saved a reply, for just then they reached their -destination, and rejoined the rest of the party, who were clustered -together on the hill-side enjoying a most lovely view. Down below them, -sheltered by a great craggy mountain on the further side, lay a little -lonely lake, so weird-looking, so desolate, that it was hard to believe -it to be within an easy walk of the town. Angry-looking clouds were -beginning to gather in the sky, a purple gloom seemed to overspread the -mountain and the lake, and something of its gravity seemed also to have -fallen upon Frithiof. He had found the first imperfection in his ideal, -yet it had only served to show him how great a power, how strange an -influence she possessed over him. He knew now that, for the first time -in his life, he was blindly, desperately in love. - -“Why, it is beginning to rain,” said Mr. Morgan. “I almost think we had -better be turning back, Herr Falck. It has been a most enjoyable little -walk; but if we can reach the hotel before it settles in for a wet -evening, why, all the better.” - -“The rain is the great drawback to Bergen,” said Herr Falck. “At -Christiania they have a saying that when you go to Bergen it rains three -hundred and sixty-six days out of the year. But after all one becomes -very much accustomed to it.” - -On the return walk the conversation was more general, and though -Frithiof walked beside Blanche he said very little. His mind was full of -the new idea which had just dawned upon him, and he heard her merry talk -with Sigrid and Swanhild like a man in a dream. Before long, much to his -discomfort, he saw in front of them the two English tourists, and though -his mind was all in a tumult with this new perception of his love for -Blanche, yet the longing to make up for her ill-judged remark, the -desire to prove that he did not share in her prejudice, was powerful -too. He fancied it was chiefly to avoid them that the Englishman turned -toward the bank just as they passed to gather a flower which grew high -above his head. - -“What can this be, Cecil?” he remarked. - -“Allow me, sir,” said Frithiof, observing that it was just out of the -stranger’s reach. - -He was two or three inches taller, and, with an adroit spring, was able -to bring down the flower in triumph. By this time the others were some -little way in advance. He looked rather wistfully after Blanche, and -fancied disapproval in her erect, trim little figure. - -“This is the Linnæa,” he explained. “You will find a great deal of it -about. It was the flower, you know, which Linnæus chose to name after -himself. Some say he showed his modesty in choosing so common and -insignificant a plant, but it always seems to me that he showed his good -taste. It is a beautiful flower.” - -Roy Boniface thanked him heartily for his help. “We were hoping to find -the Linnæa,” he said, handing it to his sister, while he opened a -specimen tin. - -“What delicate little bells!” she exclaimed. “I quite agree with you -that Linnæus showed his good taste.” - -Frithiof would probably have passed on had he not, at that moment, -recognized Cecil as the English girl whom he had first accosted on the -steamer. - -“Pardon me for not knowing you before,” he said, raising his hat. “We -met yesterday afternoon, did we not? I hope you have had a pleasant time -at Bergen?” - -“Delightful, thank you. We think it the most charming town we ever saw.” - -“Barring the rain,” said Roy, “for which we have foolishly forgotten to -reckon.” - -“Never be parted from your umbrella is a sound maxim for this part of -the world,” said Frithiof, smiling. “Halloo! it is coming down in good -earnest. I’m afraid you will get very wet,” he said, glancing at Cecil’s -pretty gray traveling dress. - -“Shall we stand up for a minute under that porch, Roy?” said the girl, -glancing at a villa which they were just passing. - -“No, no,” said Frithiof: “please take shelter with us. My father’s villa -is close by. Please come.” - -And since Cecil was genuinely glad not to get wet through, and since -Roy, though he cared nothing for the rain, was glad to have a chance of -seeing the inside of a Norwegian villa, they accepted the kindly offer, -and followed their guide into the pretty, snug-looking house. - -Roy had heard a good deal of talk about sweetness and light, but he -thought he had never realized the meaning of the words till the moment -when he was ushered into that pretty Norwegian drawing-room, with its -painted floor and groups of flowers, and its pink-tinted walls, about -which the green ivy wreathed itself picturesquely, now twining itself -round some mirror or picture-frame, now forming a sort of informal -frieze round the whole room, its roots so cleverly hidden away in -sheltered corners or on unobtrusive brackets that the growth had all the -fascination of mystery. The presiding genius of the place, and the very -center of all that charmed, stood by one of the windows, the light -falling on her golden hair. She had taken off her hat and was flicking -the rain-drops from it with her handkerchief when Frithiof introduced -the two Bonifaces, and Roy, who found his novel experience a little -embarrassing, was speedily set at ease by her delightful naturalness and -frank courtesy. - -Her bow and smile were grace itself, and she seemed to take the whole -proceeding entirely as a matter of course; one might have supposed that -she was in the habit of sheltering wet tourists every day of her life. - -“I am so glad my brother found you,” she exclaimed. “You would have been -wet through had you walked on to Bergen. Swanhild, run and fetch a -duster; oh, you have brought one already, that’s a good child. Now let -me wipe your dress,” she added, turning to Cecil. - -“Where has every one disappeared to?” asked Frithiof. - -“Father has walked on to Holdt’s Hotel with the Morgans,” said Swanhild. -“They would not wait, though we tried to persuade them to. Father is -going to talk over their route with them.” - -Cecil saw a momentary look of annoyance on his face; but the next minute -he was talking as pleasantly as possible to Roy, and before long the -question of routes was being discussed, and as fast as Frithiof -suggested one place, Sigrid and Swanhild mentioned others which must on -no account be missed. - -“And you can really only spare a month for it all?” asked Sigrid. “Then -I should give up going to Christiania or Trondhjem if I were you. They -will not interest you half as much as this southwest coast.” - -“But, Sigrid, it is impossible to leave out Kongswold and Dombaas. For -you are a botanist, are you not?” said Frithiof, turning to the -Englishman, “and those places are perfection for flowers.” - -“Yes? Then you must certainly go there,” said Sigrid. “Kongswold is a -dear little place up on the Dovrefjeld. Yet if you were not botanists I -should say you ought to see instead either the Vöringsfos or the -Skjaeggedalsfos, they are our two finest waterfalls.” - -“The Skedaddle-fos, as the Americans call it,” put in Frithiof. - -“You have a great many American tourists, I suppose,” said Roy. - -“Oh, yes, a great many, and we like them very well, though not as we -like the English. To the English we feel very much akin.” - -“And you speak our language so well!” said Cecil, to whom the discovery -had been a surprise and a relief. - -“You see we Norwegians think a great deal of education. Our schools are -very good; we are all taught to speak German and English. French, which -with you comes first, does it not? stands third with us.” - -“Tell me about your schools,” said Cecil. “Are they like ours, I -wonder?” - -“We begin at six years old to go to the middle school—they say it is -much like your English high schools; both my brother and I went to the -middle schools here at Bergen. Then when we were sixteen we went to -Christiania, he to the Handelsgymnasium, and I to Miss Bauer’s school, -for two years. My little sister is now at the middle school here; she -goes every day, but just now it is holiday time.” - -“And in holidays,” said Swanhild, whose English was much less fluent and -ready, “we go away. We perhaps go to-morrow to Balholm.” - -“Perhaps we shall meet you again there,” said Sigrid. “Oh, do come -there; it is such a lovely place.” - -Then followed a discussion about flowers, in which Sigrid was also -interested, and presently Herr Falck returned, and added another -picture of charming hospitality to the group that would always remain -in the minds of the English travelers; and then there was afternoon -tea, which proved a great bond of union and more discussion of English -and Norwegian customs, and much laughter and merriment and -light-heartedness. - -When at length the rain ceased and Roy and Cecil were allowed to leave -for Bergen, they felt as if the kindly Norwegians were old friends. - -“Shall you be very much disappointed if we give up the Skedaddle-fos?” -asked Roy. “It seems to me that a water-fall is a water-fall all the -world over, but that we are not likely to meet everywhere with a family -like that.” - -“Oh, by all means give it up,” said Cecil gayly. “I would far rather -have a few quiet days at Balholm. I detest toiling after the things -every one expects you to see. Besides, we can always be sure of finding -the Skjaeggedalsfos in Norway, but we can’t tell what may happen to -these delightful people.” - - - - - CHAPTER III. - - -Balholm, the loveliest of all the places on the Sogne Fjord, is perhaps -the quietest place on earth. There is a hotel, kept by two most -delightful Norwegian brothers; there is a bathing-house, a minute -landing-stage, and a sprinkling of little wooden cottages with red-tiled -roofs. The only approach is by water; no dusty high-road is to be found, -no carts and carriages rumble past; if you want rest and quiet, you have -only to seek it on the mountains or by the shore; if you want amusement, -you have only to join the merry Norwegians in the _salon_, who are -always ready to sing or to play, to dance or to talk, or, if -weather-bound, to play games with the zest and animation of children. -Even so limp a specimen of humanity as Cyril Morgan found that, after -all, existence in this primitive region had its charms, while Blanche -said, quite truthfully, that she had never enjoyed herself so much in -her life. There was to her a charming piquancy about both place and -people; and although she was well accustomed to love and admiration, she -found that Frithiof was altogether unlike the men she had hitherto met -in society; there was about him something strangely fresh—he seemed to -harmonize well with the place, and he made all the other men of whom she -could think seem ordinary and prosaic. As for Frithiof he made no secret -of his love for her, it was apparent to all the world—to the -light-hearted Norwegians, who looked on approvingly; to Cyril Morgan, -who wondered what on earth Blanche could see in such an unsophisticated -boy; to Mr. Morgan, who, with a shrug of his broad shoulders, remarked -that there was no help for it—it was Blanche’s way; to Roy Boniface, who -thought the two were well matched, and gave them his good wishes; and to -Cecil, who, as she watched the two a little wistfully, said in her -secret heart what could on no account have been said to any living -being, “I hope, oh, I hope she cares for him enough!” - -One morning, a little tired with the previous day’s excursion to the -Suphelle Brae, they idled away the sunny hours on the fjord, Frithiof -rowing, Swanhild lying at full length in the bow with Lillo mounting -guard over her, and Blanche, Sigrid, and Cecil in the stern. - -“You have been all this time at Balholm and yet have not seen King -Bele’s grave!” Frithiof had exclaimed in answer to Blanche’s inquiry. -“Look, here it is, just a green mound by that tree.” - -“Isn’t it odd,” said Sigrid dreamily, “to think that we are just in the -very place where the Frithiof Saga was really lived?” - -“But I thought it was only a legend,” said Cecil. - -“Oh, no,” said Frithiof, “the Sagas are not legends, but true stories -handed down by word of mouth.” - -“Then I wish you would hand down your saga to us by word of mouth,” said -Blanche, raising her sweet eyes to his. “I shall never take the trouble -to read it for myself in some dry, tiresome book. Tell us the story of -Frithiof now as we drift along in the boat with his old home Framnaes in -sight.” - -“I do not think I can tell it really well,” he said: “but I can just -give you the outline of it: - -“Frithiof was the only son of a wealthy yeoman who owned land at -Framnaes. His father was a great friend of King Bele, and the king -wished that his only daughter Ingeborg should be educated by the same -wise man who taught Frithiof, so you see it happened that as children -Frithiof and Ingeborg were always together, and by and by was it not -quite natural that they should learn to love each other? It happened -just so, and Frithiof vowed that, although he was only the son of a -yeoman, nothing should separate them or make him give her up. It then -happened that King Bele died, and Frithiof’s father, his great friend, -died at the same time. Then Frithiof went to live at Framnaes over -yonder; he had great possessions, but the most useful were just these -three; a wonderful sword, a wonderful bracelet, and a wonderful ship -called the ‘Ellida,’ which had been given to one of his Viking ancestors -by the sea-god. But though he had all these things, and was the most -powerful man in the kingdom, yet he was always sad, for he could not -forget the old days with Ingeborg. So one day he crossed this fjord to -Bele’s grave, close to Balholm, where Ingeborg’s two brothers Helge and -Halfdan were holding an assembly of the people, and he boldly asked for -Ingeborg’s hand. Helge the King was furious, and rejected him with -scorn, and Frithiof, who would not allow even a king to insult him, drew -his sword and with one blow smote the King’s shield, which hung on a -tree, in two pieces. Soon after this good King Ring of the far North, -who had lost his wife, became a suitor for Ingeborg’s hand; but Helge -and Halfdan insulted his messengers and a war was the consequence. When -Frithiof heard the news of the war he was sitting with his friend at a -game of chess; he refused to help Helge and Halfdan, but knowing that -Ingeborg had been sent for safety to the sacred grove of Balder, he went -to see her in the ‘Ellida,’ though there was a law that whoever ventured -to approach the grove by water should be put to death. Now Ingeborg had -always loved him and she agreed to be betrothed to him, and taking leave -of her, Frithiof went with all haste to tell her brothers. This time -also there was a great assembly at Bele’s grave, and again Frithiof -asked for the hand of Ingeborg, and promised that, if Helge would -consent to their betrothal, he would fight for him. But Helge, instead -of answering him, asked if he had not been to the sacred grove of Balder -contrary to the law? Then all the people shouted to him, ‘Say no, -Frithiof! Say no, and Ingeborg is yours.’ But Frithiof said that though -his happiness hung on that one word he would not tell a lie, that in -truth he had been to Balder’s Temple, but that his presence had not -defiled it, that he and Ingeborg had prayed together and had planned -this offer of peace. But the people forsook him, and King Helge banished -him until he should bring back the tribute due from Angantyr of the -Western Isles; and every one knew that if he escaped with his life on -such an errand it would be a wonder. Once again Frithiof saw Ingeborg, -and he begged her to come with him in his ship the ‘Ellida,’ but -Ingeborg, though she loved him, thought that she owed obedience to her -brothers, and they bade each other farewell; but before he went Frithiof -clasped on her arm the wonderful bracelet. So then they parted, and -Frithiof sailed away and had more adventures than I can tell you, but at -last he returned with the tribute money, and now he thought Ingeborg -would indeed be his. But when he came in sight of Framnaes, he found -that his house and everything belonging to him had been burned to the -ground.” - -“No, no, Frithiof; there was his horse and his dog left,” corrected -Sigrid. “Don’t you remember how they came up to him?” - -“So they did, but all else was gone; and, worst of all, Ingeborg, they -told him, had been forced by her brothers to marry King Ring, who, if -she had not become his wife, would have taken the kingdom from Helge and -Halfdan. Then Frithiof was in despair, and cried out, ‘Who dare speak to -me of the fidelity of women?’ And it so happened that that very day was -Midsummer-day, and he knew that King Helge, Ingeborg’s brother, would be -in the Temple of Balder. He sought him out, and went straight up to him -and said, ‘You sent me for the lost tribute and I have gained it, but -either you or I must die. Come, fight me! Think of Framnaes that you -burned. Think of Ingeborg whose life you have spoiled!’ And then in -great wrath he flung the tribute-money at Helge’s head, and Helge fell -down senseless. Just then Frithiof caught sight of the bracelet he had -given Ingeborg on the image of Balder, and he tore it off, but in so -doing upset the image, which fell into the flames on the altar. The fire -spread, and spread so that at last the whole temple was burned, and all -the trees of the grove. Next day King Helge gave chase to Frithiof, but -luckily in the night Frithiof’s friend had scuttled all the King’s -ships, and so his effort failed, and Frithiof sailed out to sea in the -‘Ellida.’ Then he became a Viking, and lived a hard life, and won many -victories. At last he came home to Norway and went to King Ring’s court -at Yule-tide, disguised as an old man; but they soon found out that he -was young and beautiful, and he doffed his disguise, and Ingeborg -trembled as she recognized him. Ring knew him not, but liked him well, -and made him his guest. One day he saved Ring when his horse and sledge -had fallen into the water. But another day it so happened that they went -out hunting together, and Ring being tired fell asleep, while Frithiof -kept guard over him. As he watched, a raven came and sung to him, urging -him to kill the King; but a white bird urged him to flee from -temptation, and Frithiof drew his sword and flung it far away out of -reach. Then the King opened his eyes, and told Frithiof that for some -time he had known him, and that he honored him for resisting temptation. -Frithiof, however, felt that he could no longer bear to be near -Ingeborg, since she belonged not to him, and soon he came to take leave -of her and her husband. But good King Ring said that the time of his own -death was come, and he asked Frithiof to take his kingdom and Ingeborg, -and to be good to his son. Then he plunged his sword in his breast, and -so died. Before long the people met to elect a new king, and would have -chosen Frithiof, but he would only be regent till Ring’s son should be -of age. Then Frithiof went away to his father’s grave, and prayed to -Balder, and he built a wonderful new temple for the god, but still peace -did not come to him. And the priest told him that the reason of this was -because he still kept anger and hatred in his heart toward Ingeborg’s -brothers. Helge was dead, but the priest prayed him to be reconciled to -Halfdan. They were standing thus talking in the new temple when Halfdan -unexpectedly appeared, and when he caught sight of his foe, he turned -pale and trembled. But Frithiof, who for the first time saw that -forgiveness is greater than vengeance, walked up to the altar, placed -upon it his sword and shield, and returning, held out his hand to -Halfdan, and the two were reconciled. At that moment there entered the -temple one dressed as a bride, and Frithiof lifted up his eyes and saw -that it was Ingeborg herself. And Halfdan, his pride of birth forgotten -and his anger conquered by his foe’s forgiveness, led his sister to -Frithiof and gave her to be his wife, and in the new Temple of Balder -the Good the lovers received the blessing of the priest.” - -“How well you tell it! It is a wonderful story,” said Blanche; and there -was real, genuine pleasure in her dark eyes as she looked across at him. - -It was such a contrast to her ordinary life, this quiet Norway, where -all was so simple and true and trustworthy, where no one seemed to -strain after effects. And there was something in Frithiof’s strength, -and spirit, and animation which appealed to her greatly. “My Viking is -adorable!” she used to say to herself; and gradually there stole into -her manner toward him a sort of tender reverence. She no longer teased -him playfully, and their talks together in those long summer days became -less full of mirth and laughter, but more earnest and absorbing. - -Cecil saw all this, and she breathed more freely. “Certainly she loves -him,” was her reflection. - -Sigrid, too, no longer doubted; indeed, Blanche had altogether won her -heart, and somehow, whenever they were together, the talk always drifted -round to Frithiof’s past, or Frithiof’s future, or Frithiof’s opinions. -She was very happy about it, for she felt sure that Blanche would be a -charming sister-in-law, and love and hope seemed to have developed -Frithiof in a wonderful way; he had suddenly grown manly and -considerate, nor did Sigrid feel, as she had feared, that his new love -interfered with his love for her. - -They were bright days for every one, those days at Balholm, with their -merry excursions to the priest’s garden and the fir-woods, to the saeter -on the mountain-side, and to grand old Munkeggen, whose heights towered -above the little wooden hotel. Herr Falck, who had joined them toward -the end of the week, and who climbed Munkeggen as energetically as any -one, was well pleased to see the turn affairs had taken; and every one -was kind, and discreetly left Frithiof and Blanche to themselves as they -toiled up the mountain-side; indeed, Knut, the landlord’s brother, who -as usual had courteously offered his services as guide, was so -thoughtful for the two lovers who were lingering behind, that he -remorselessly hurried up a stout old American lady, who panted after -him, to that “Better resting-place,” which he always insisted was a -little further on. - -“Will there be church to-morrow?” asked Blanche, as they rested -half-way. “I should so like to go to a Norwegian service.” - -“There will be service at some church within reach,” said Frithiof; “but -I do not much advise you to go; it will be very hot, and the place will -be packed.” - -“Why? Are you such a religious people?” - -“The peasants are,” he replied. “And of course the women. Church-going -and religion, that is for women; we men do not need that sort of thing.” - -She was a little startled by his matter-of-fact, unabashed tone. - -“What, are you an agnostic? an atheist?” she exclaimed. - -“No, no, not at all,” he said composedly. “I believe in a good -Providence but with so much I am quite satisfied, you see. What does one -need with more? To us men religion, church-going, is—is—how do you call -it in English? I think you say ‘An awful bore,’ Is it not so?” - -The slang in foreign accent was irresistible. She was a little shocked, -but she could not help laughing. - -“How you Norwegians speak out!” she exclaimed. “Many Englishmen feel -that, but few would say it so plainly.” - -“So! I thought an Englishman was nothing if not candid. But for me I -feel no shame. What more would one have than to make the most of life? -That is my religion. I hear that in England there is a book to ask -whether life is worth living? For me I can’t understand that sort of -thing. It is a question that would never have occurred to me. Only to -live is happiness enough. Life is such a very good thing. Do you not -agree?” - -“Sometimes,” she said, rather wistfully. - -“Only sometimes? No, no, always—to the last breath!” cried Frithiof. - -“You say that because things are as you like; because you are happy,” -said Blanche. - -“It is true, I am very happy,” he replied. “Who would not be happy -walking with you?” - -Something in his manner frightened her a little. She went on -breathlessly and incoherently. - -“You wouldn’t say that life is a very good thing if you were like our -poor people in East London, for instance.” - -“Indeed, no,” he said gravely. “That must be a great blot on English -life. Here in Norway we have no extremes. No one is very poor, and our -richest men have only what would be counted in England a moderate -income.” - -“Perhaps that is why you are such a happy people.” - -“Perhaps,” said Frithiof, but he felt little inclined to consider the -problem of the distribution of wealth just then, and the talk drifted -round once more to that absorbing personal talk which was much more -familiar to them. - -At length the top of the mountain was reached, and a merry little picnic -ensued. Frithiof was the life of the party, and there was much drinking -of healths and clinking of glasses, and though the cold was intense -every one seemed to enjoy it, and to make fun of any sort of discomfort. - -“Come!” said Sigrid to Cecil Boniface, “you and I must add a stone to -the cairn. Let us drag up this great one and put it on the top together -in memory of our friendship.” - -They stood laughing and panting under the shelter of the cairn when the -stone was deposited, the merry voices of the rest of the party floating -back to them. - -“Do you not think we are dreadful chatterers, we Norwegians?” said -Sigrid. - -“I think you are delightful,” said Cecil simply. - -Something in her manner touched and pleased Sigrid. She had grown to -like this quiet English girl. They were silent for some minutes, looking -over that wonderful expanse of blue fjords and hoary mountains, flecked -here and there on their somber heights by snow-drifts. Far down below -them a row-boat could be seen on the water, looking scarcely bigger than -the head of a pin: and as Cecil watched the lovely country steeped in -the golden sunshine of that summer afternoon, thoughts of the Frithiof -Saga came thronging through her mind, till it almost seemed to her that -in another moment she should see the dragon ship the “Ellida,” winging -her way over the smooth blue waters. - -Knut suggested before long that if they were to be home in time for -supper it might be best to start at once, and the merry party broke up -into little groups. Herr Falck was deep in conversation with Mr. Morgan, -Cyril and Florence as usual kept to themselves, Knut piloted the -American lady in advance of the others, while Roy Boniface joined his -sister and Sigrid, pausing on the way for a little snow-balling in a -great snowdrift just below the summit. Little Swanhild hesitated for a -moment, longing to walk with Blanche, for whom she had formed the sort -of adoring attachment with which children of her age often honor some -grown-up girl; but she was laughingly carried off by some good-natured -friends from Bergen, who divined her intentions, and once more Frithiof -and Blanche were left alone. - -“And you must really go on Monday?” asked Frithiof, with a sigh. - -“Well,” she said, glancing up at him quickly, “I have been very -troublesome to you, I’m sure—always needing help in climbing! You will -be glad to get rid of me, though you are too polite to tell me so.” - -“How can you say such things?” he exclaimed, and again something in his -manner alarmed her a little. “You know—you must know what these days -have been to me.” - -The lovely color flooded her cheeks, and she spoke almost at random. - -“After all, I believe I should do better if I trusted to my alpenstock!” -And laughingly she began to spring down the rough descent, a little -proud of her own grace and agility, and a little glad to baffle and -tease him for a few minutes. - -“Take care! take care!” cried Frithiof, hurrying after her. Then, with a -stifled cry, he sprang forward to rescue her, for the alpenstock had -slipped on a stone, and she was rolling down the steep incline. Even in -the terrible moment itself he had time to think of two distinct -dangers—she might strike her head against one of the bowlders, or, worse -thought still, might be unchecked, and fall over that side of Munkeggen -which was almost precipitous. How he managed it he never realized, but -love seemed to lend him wings, and the next thing he knew was that he -was kneeling on the grass only two or three feet from the sheer -cliff-like side, with Blanche in his arms. - -“Are you hurt?” he questioned breathlessly. - -“No,” she replied, trembling with excitement. “Not hurt at all, only -shaken and startled.” - -He lifted her a little further from the edge. For a minute she lay -passively, then she looked up into his eyes. - -“How strong you are,” she said, “and how cleverly you caught me! Yet now -that it is over you look quite haggard and white. I am really not hurt -at all. It punished me well for thinking I could get on without you. You -see I couldn’t!” and a lovely, tender smile dawned in her eyes. - -She sat up and took off her hat, smoothing back her disordered hair. A -sort of terror seized Frithiof that in another minute she would propose -going on, and, urged by this fear, he spoke rapidly and impetuously. - -“If only I might always serve you!” he cried. “Oh, Blanche, I love you! -I love you! Will you not trust yourself to me?” - -Blanche had received already several offers of marriage; they had been -couched in much better terms, but they had lacked the passionate ardor -of Frithiof’s manner. All in a moment she was conquered; she could not -even make a feint of resistance, but just put her hand in his. - -“I will always trust you,” she faltered. - -Then, as she felt his strong arm round her and his kisses on her cheek, -there flashed through her mind a description she had once read of— - - “a strong man from the North, - Light-locked, with eyes of dangerous gray.” - -It was a love worth having, she thought to herself; a love to be proud -of! - -“But Frithiof,” she began, after a timeless pause, “we must keep our -secret just for a little while. You see my father is not here, and—” - -“Let me write to him and ask his consent,” exclaimed Frithiof. - -“No, no, do not write. Come over to England in October and see him -yourself, that will be so much better.” - -“Must we wait so long?” said Frithiof, his face clouding. - -“It is only a few weeks; papa will not be at home till then. Every one -is away from London, you know. Don’t look so anxious; I do not know your -face when it isn’t happy—you were never meant to be grave. As for papa, -I can make him do exactly what I like, you need not be afraid that he -will not consent. Come! I have promised to trust to you, and yet you -doubt me.” - -“Doubt you!” he cried. “Never! I trust you, before all the world; and if -you tell me to wait—why then—I must obey.” - -“How I love you for saying that,” cried Blanche, clinging to him. “To -think that you who are so strong should say that to me! It seems -wonderful. But indeed, indeed, you need not doubt me. I love you with my -whole heart. I love you as I never thought it possible to love.” - -Frithiof again clasped her in his arms, and there came to his mind the -sweet words of Uhland: - - “Gestorben war ich - Vor Liebeswonn, - Begraben lag ich - In Ihren Armen; - Erwechet ward ich - Von Ihren Küssen, - Den Himmel sah ich - In Ihren Augen.” - - - - - CHAPTER IV. - - -“We were beginning to think some accident had happened to you,” said -Sigrid, who stood waiting at the door of the hotel. - -“And so it did,” said Blanche, laughing, “I think I should have broken -my neck if it hadn’t been for your brother. It was all the fault of this -treacherous alpenstock which played me false.” - -And then, with a sympathetic little group of listeners, Blanche gave a -full account of her narrow escape. - -“And you are really not hurt at all? Not too much shaken to care to -dance to-night?” - -“Not a bit,” said Blanche merrily. “And you promised to put on your -peasant costume and show us the _spring dans_, you know.” - -“So I did. I must make haste and dress, then,” and Sigrid ran upstairs, -appearing again before long in a simply made dark skirt, white sleeves -and chemisette, and red bodice, richly embroidered in gold. Her -beautiful hair was worn in two long plaits down her back, and the -costume suited her to perfection. There followed a merry supper in the -_dépendence_ where all meals were served; then every one adjourned to -the hotel _salon_, the tables and chairs were hastily pushed aside, and -dancing began. - -Herr Falck’s eyes rested contentedly on the slim little figure in the -maize-colored dress who so often danced with his son; and, indeed, -Blanche looked more lovely than ever that evening, for happiness and -excitement had brightened her dark eyes, and deepened the glow of color -in her cheeks. The father felt proud, too, of his children, when, in -response to the general entreaty, Frithiof and Sigrid danced the _spring -dans_ together with its graceful evolutions and quaint gestures. Then -nothing would do but Frithiof must play to them on the violin, after -which Blanche volunteered to teach every one Sir Roger de Coverly, and -old and young joined merrily in the country dance, and so the evening -passed on all too rapidly to its close. It was a scene which somehow -lived on in Cecil’s memory; the merry dancers, the kindly landlord, Ole -Kvikne, sitting near the door and watching them, the expression of -content visible in Herr Falck’s face as he sat beside him, the pretty -faces and picturesque attire of Sigrid and Swanhild, the radiant beauty -of Blanche Morgan, the unclouded happiness of Frithiof. - -The evening had done her good; its informality, its hearty unaffected -happiness and merriment made it a strange contrast to any other dance -she could recollect; yet even here there was a slight shadow. She could -not forget those words which she had overheard on board the steamer, -could not get rid of the feeling that some trouble hung over the Falck -family, and that hidden away, even in this Norwegian paradise, there -lurked somewhere the inevitable serpent. Even as she mused over it, -Frithiof crossed the room and made his bow before her, and in another -minute had whirled her off. Happiness shone in his eyes, lurked in the -tones of his voice, added fresh spirit to his dancing; she thought she -had never before seen such an incarnation of perfect content. They -talked of Norwegian books, and her interest in his country seemed to -please him. - -“You can easily get English translations of our best novelists,” he -said. “You should read Alexander Kielland’s books, and Bjornsen’s. I -have had a poem of Bjornsen’s ringing all day in my head; we will make -Sigrid say it to us, for I only know the chorus.” - -Then as the waltz came to an end he led her toward his sister, who was -standing with Roy near the piano. - -“We want you to say us Bjornsen’s poem, Sigrid, in which the refrain is, -‘To-day is just a day to my mind.’ I can’t remember anything but the -chorus.” - -“But it is rather a horrid little poem,” said Sigrid, hesitating. - -“Oh, let us have it, please let us have it,” said Blanche, joining them. -“You have made me curious now.” - -So Sigrid, not liking to refuse, repeated first the poem itself and then -the English translation: - - “The fox lay under the birch-tree’s root - Beside the heather; - And the hare bounded with lightsome foot - Over the heather; - ‘To-day is just a day to my mind, - All sunny before and sunny behind - Over the heather!’ - - And the fox laughed under the birch-tree’s root - Beside the heather; - And the hare frolicked with heedless foot - Over the heather; - ‘I am so glad about everything!’ - ‘So that is the way you dance and spring - Over the heather!’ - - And the fox lay in wait by the birch-tree’s root - Beside the heather; - And the hare soon tumbled close to his foot - Over the heather; - ‘Why, bless me! is that _you_, my dear! - However did you come dancing here - Over the heather?’” - -“I had forgotten that it ended so tragically,” said Frithiof, with a -slight shrug of the shoulders. “Well, never mind, it is only a poem; let -us leave melancholy to poets and novelists, and enjoy real life.” - -Just then a polka was struck up and he hastily made his bow to Blanche. - -“And yet one needs a touch of tragedy in real life,” she observed, “or -it becomes so dreadfully prosaic.” - -“Oh,” said Frithiof, laughing, as he bore her off; “then for Heaven’s -sake let us be prosaic to the end of the chapter.” - -Cecil heard the words, they seemed to her to fit in uncannily with the -words of the poem; she could not have explained, and she did not try to -analyze the little thrill of pain that shot through her heart at the -idea. Neither could she have justified to herself the shuddering -repulsion she felt when Cyril Morgan drew near, intercepting her view of -Frithiof and Blanche. - -“May I have the pleasure of this dance?” he said, in his condescending -tone. - -“Thank you, but I am so tired,” she replied. “Too tired for any more -to-night.” - -“Yes,” said Sigrid, glancing at her. “You look worn out. Munkeggen is a -tiring climb. Let us come upstairs, it is high time that naughty little -sister of mine was in bed.” - -“The reward of virtue,” said Cyril Morgan, rejoining his cousin -Florence. “I have been polite to the little _bourgeoise_ and it has cost -me nothing. It is always best in a place like this to be on good terms -with every one. We shall never be likely to come across these people -again, the acquaintance is not likely to bore us.” - -His words were perfectly true. That curiously assorted gathering of -different nationalities would never again meet, and yet those days of -close intimacy were destined to influence forever, either for good or -for evil, the lives of each one. - -All through the Sunday Blanche had kept in bed, for though the -excitement had kept her up, on the previous night, she inevitably -suffered from the effects of her fall. It was not till the Monday -morning, just before the arrival of the steamer, that Frithiof could -find the opportunity for which he had impatiently waited. They walked -through the little garden, ostensibly to watch for the steamer from the -mound by the flagstaff, but they only lingered there for a minute, -glancing anxiously down the fjord where in the distance could be seen -the unwelcome black speck. On the further side of the mound, down among -the trees and bushes, was a little sheltered seat. It was there that -they spent their last moments, there that Blanche listened to his eager -words of love, there that she again bade him wait till October, at the -same time giving him such hope and encouragement as must surely have -satisfied the most _exigeant_ lover. - -All too soon the bustle of departure reached them, and the -steam-whistle—most hateful and discordant of sounds—rang and resounded -among the mountains. - -“I must go,” she exclaimed, “or they will be coming to look for me. This -is our real good-by. On the steamer it will be just a hand-shake, but -now—” - -And she lifted a lovely, glowing face to his. - -Then, presently, as they walked down to the little pier, she talked fast -and gayly of all they would do when he came to England; she talked -because, for once, he was absolutely silent, and because she was afraid -that her uncle would guess their secret; perhaps it was a relief to her -that Frithiof volunteered to run back to the hotel for Mr. Morgan’s -opera-glass, which had been left by mistake in the _salon_, so that, -literally, there was only time for the briefest of farewells on the -steamer. He went through it all in a business-like fashion, smiling -mechanically in response to the good wishes, then, with a heavy heart, -stepping on shore. Herr Falck, who was returning to Bergen by the same -boat, which took the other travelers only as far as Vadheim, was not ill -pleased to see his son’s evident dejection; he stood by the bulwarks -watching him and saying a word or two now and then to Blanche, who was -close by him. - -“Why see!” he exclaimed, “the fellow is actually coming on board again. -We shall be carrying him away with us if he doesn’t take care.” - -“A thousand pardons!” Frithiof had exclaimed, shaking hands with Cecil -and Roy Boniface. “I did not see you before. A pleasant journey to you. -You must come again to Norway some day, and let us all meet once more.” - -“_Vaer saa god!_” exclaimed one of the sailors; and Frithiof had to -spring down the gangway. - -“To our next merry meeting,” said Roy, lifting his hat; and then there -was a general waving of handkerchiefs from the kindly little crowd on -the pier and from the parting guests, and, in all the babel and -confusion, Frithiof was conscious only of Blanche’s clear “_Auf -wiedersehen!_” and saw nothing but the sweet dark eyes, which to the -very last dwelt on him. - -“Well, that is over!” he said to Sigrid, pulling himself together, and -stifling a sigh. - -“Perhaps they will come here next year,” suggested Sigrid consolingly. - -“Perhaps I shall go to England next autumn,” said Frithiof with a smile. - -“So soon!” she exclaimed involuntarily. - -He laughed, for the words were such a curious contradiction to the ones -which lurked in his own mind. - -“Oh! you call two months a short time!” he exclaimed; “and to me it -seems an eternity. You will have to be very forbearing, for I warn you -such a waiting time is very little to my taste.” - -“Then why did you not speak now, before she went away?” - -“You wisest of advisers!” he said, with a smile: “I did speak -yesterday.” - -“Yesterday!” she cried eagerly. “Yesterday, on Munkeggen?” - -“Yes; all that now remains is to get Mr. Morgan’s consent to our -betrothal.” - -“Oh, Frithiof, I am so glad! so very glad! How pleased father will be! I -think you must write and let him know.” - -“If he will keep it quite secret,” said Frithiof; “but of course not a -word must be breathed until her father has consented. There is no -engagement as yet, only we know that we love each other.” - -“That ought to be enough to satisfy you till the autumn. And it was so -nice of you to tell me, Frithiof. Oh, I don’t think I could have borne -it if you had chosen to marry some girl I didn’t like. As for Blanche, -there never was any one more sweet and lovely.” - -It seemed that Frithiof’s happiness was to bring happiness to the whole -family. Even little Swanhild guessed the true state of things, and began -to frame visions of the happy future when the beautiful English girl -should become her own sister; while as to Herr Falck, the news seemed to -banish entirely the heavy depression which for some time had preyed upon -him. And so, in spite of the waiting, the time slipped by quickly to -Frithiof, the mere thought of Blanche’s love kept him rapturously happy, -and at the pretty villa in Kalvedalen there was much laughter and mirth, -and music and singing—much eager expectation and hope, and much planning -of a future life which should be even more full and happy. - -At length, when the afternoons closed in early, and the long winter was -beginning to give signs of its approach, Frithiof took leave of his -home, and, on one October Saturday, started on his voyage to England. It -was, in a sense, the great event of his life, and they all instinctively -knew that it was a crisis, so that Sigrid drew aside little Swanhild at -the last, and left the father and son to have their parting words alone. - -“I look to you, Frithiof,” the father said eagerly, “I look to you to -carry out the aims in which I myself have failed—to live the life I -could wish to have lived. May God grant you the wife who will best help -you in the struggle! I sometimes think, Frithiof, that things might have -gone very differently with me had your mother been spared.” - -“Do you not let this depression influence you too much, father?” said -Frithiof. “Why take such a dark view of your own life? I shall only be -too happy if I make as much of the world as you have done. I wish you -could have come to England too. I think you want change and rest.” - -“Ah!” said Herr Falck, laughing, “once over there you will not echo that -wish. No, no, you are best by yourself when you go a-wooing, my son. -Besides, I could not possibly leave home just now; we shall have the -herring-fleet back from Iceland before many days.” - -Then, as the signal was given that all friends of the passengers must -leave the steamer, he took Frithiof’s hand and held it fast in his. - -“God bless you, my boy—I think you will bring honor to our name, sooner -or later. Now, Sigrid, wish him well, and let us be off.” - -He called little Swanhild to him, and walked briskly down the gangway, -then stood on the quay, talking very cheerfully, his momentary -depression quite past. Before long the steamer began to glide off, and -Frithiof, even in the midst of his bright expectations, felt a pang as -he waved a farewell to those he left behind him. - -“A happy return to _Gamle Norge_!” shouted Herr Falck. - -And Sigrid and Swanhild stood waving their handkerchiefs till the -steamer could no longer be seen. - -“I am a fool to mind going away!” reflected Frithiof. “In three weeks’ -time I shall be at home again. And the next time I leave Bergen, why, -who knows, perhaps it will be to attend my own wedding!” - -And with that he began to pace the deck, whistling, as he walked, “The -Bridal Song of the Hardanger.” - - - - - CHAPTER V. - - -The event to which we have long eagerly looked forward is seldom all -that we have expected, and Frithiof, who for the last two months had -been almost hourly rehearsing his arrival in England, felt somewhat -depressed and disillusioned when, one chilly Monday morning, he first -set foot on English soil. The Southerner, arriving at Folkestone or -Dover, with their white cliffs and sunny aspect, gains a cheerful -impression as he steps ashore; but the Norwegian leaving behind him his -mountains and fjords, and coming straight to that most dingy and -unattractive town, Hull, is at great disadvantage. - -A fine, drizzling rain was falling; in the early morning the shabby, -dirty houses looked their very worst. Swarms of grimy little children -had been turned out of their homes, and were making their way to morning -school, and hundreds of busy men and women were hurrying through the -streets, all with worn, anxious-looking faces. As he walked to the -railway station Frithiof felt almost overpowered by the desolateness of -the place. To be a mere unit in this unthinking, unheeding crowd, to be -pushed and jostled by the hurrying passengers, who all walked as if -their very lives depended on their speed, to hear around him the rapidly -spoken foreign language, with its strange north-country accent, all made -him feel very keenly that he was indeed a foreigner in a strange land. -He was glad to be once more in a familiar-looking train, and actually on -his way to London; and soon all these outer impressions faded away in -the absorbing consciousness that he was actually on his way to -Blanche—that on the very next day he might hope to see her again. - -Fortunately the Tuesday proved to be a lovely, still, autumn day. He did -not like to call upon Mr. Morgan till the afternoon, and, indeed, -thought that he should scarcely find him at home earlier, so he roamed -about London, and looked at his watch about four times an hour, till at -length the time came when he could call a hansom and drive to Lancaster -Gate. - -There are some houses which the moment you enter them suggest to you the -idea of money. The Morgans’ house was one of these; everything was -faultlessly arranged; your feet sank into the softest of carpets, you -were served by the most obsequious of servants, all that was cheap or -common or ordinary was banished from view, and you felt that the chair -you sat on was a very superior chair, that all the pictures and -ornaments were the very best that could be bought, and that ordinary -people who could not boast of a very large income were only admitted -into this aggressively superior dwelling on sufferance. With all its -grandeur, it was not a house which tempted you to break the tenth -commandment; it inspired you with a kind of wonder, and if the guests -had truly spoken the thought which most frequently occurred to them, it -would have been: “I wonder now what he gave for this? It must have cost -a perfect fortune!” - -As to Frithiof, when he was shown into the great empty drawing-room with -its luxurious couches and divans and its wonderful collection of the -very best upholstery and the most telling works of art, he felt, as -strongly as he had felt in the dirty streets of Hull, that he was a -stranger and a foreigner. In the whole room there was nothing which -suggested to him the presence of Blanche; on the contrary, there was -everything which combated the vision of those days at Balholm and of -their sweet freedom. He felt stifled, and involuntarily crossed the room -and looked from the window at the green grass in Kensington Gardens, and -the tall elm-trees with their varying autumn tints. - -Before many minutes had passed, however, his host came into the room, -greeting him politely but somewhat stiffly. “Glad to make your -acquaintance,” he said, scanning him a little curiously as he spoke. “I -heard of you, of course, from my brother. I am sure they are all very -much indebted to you for planning their Norwegian tour for them so -well.” - -Had he also heard of him from Blanche? Had she indeed prepared the way -for him? Or would his request come as a surprise? These were the -thoughts which rushed through Frithiof’s mind as he sat opposite the -Englishman and noted his regular features, short, neat-looking, gray -beard, closely cropped hair, and rather cold eyes. - -Any one watching the two could scarcely have conceived a greater -contrast: the young Norwegian, eager, hopeful, bearing in his face the -look of one who has all the world before him; the middle-aged Englishman -who had bought his experience, and in whose heart enthusiasm, and eager -enjoyment of life, and confident belief in those he encountered, had -long ceased to exist. Nevertheless, though Mr. Morgan was a hard-headed -and a somewhat cold-blooded man, he felt a little sorry for his guest, -and reflected to himself that such a fine looking fellow was far more -fit for the post at Stavanger than his own son Cyril. - -“It is curious that you should have come to-day,” he remarked, after -they had exchanged the usual platitudes about the weather and the voyage -and the first impressions of England. “Only to-day the final decision -was arrived at about this long-mooted idea of the new branch of our firm -at Stavanger. Perhaps you have heard rumors of it?” - -“I have heard nothing at all,” said Frithiof. “My father did not even -mention it.” - -“It is scarcely possible that he has heard nothing of the idea,” said -Mr. Morgan. “When I saw you I had thought he had sent you over on that -very account. However, you have not as yet gone into the business, I -understand?” - -“I am to be taken into partnership this autumn,” said Frithiof. “I was -of age the other day, and have only waited for that.” - -“Strange,” said Mr. Morgan, “that only this very morning the telegram -should have been sent to your father. Had I known you were in England, I -would have waited. One can say things better face to face. And yet I -don’t know how that could have been either, for there was a sudden -chance of getting good promises at Stavanger, and delay was impossible. -I shall, of course, write fully to your father by the next mail, and I -will tell him that it is with great regret we sever our connection with -him.” - -Frithiof was so staggered by this unexpected piece of news that for a -minute all else was driven from his mind. - -“He will be very sorry to be no longer your agent,” he said. - -“And I shall be sorry to lose him. Herr Falck has always been most -honorable. I have the greatest respect for him. Still, business is -business; one can’t afford to sentimentalize in life over old -connections. It is certainly best in the interest of our firm to set up -a branch of our own with its headquarters at Stavanger. My son will go -there very shortly.” - -“The telegram is only just sent, you say?” asked Frithiof. - -“The first thing this morning,” replied Mr. Morgan. “It was decided on -last night. By this time your father knows all about it; indeed, I -almost wonder we have had no reply from him. You must not let the affair -make any breach between us; it is after all, a mere business necessity. -I must find out from Mrs. Morgan what free nights we have, and you must -come and dine with us. I will write and let you know. Have you any -particular business in London? or have you only come for the sake of -traveling?” - -“I came to see you, sir,” said Frithiof, his heart beating quickly, -though he spoke with his usual directness. “I came to ask your consent -to my betrothal with your daughter.” - -“With my daughter!” exclaimed Mr. Morgan. “Betrothal! What, in Heaven’s -name, can you be thinking of?” - -“I do not, of course, mean that there was a definite engagement between -us,” said Frithiof, speaking all the more steadily because of this -repulse. “Of course we could not have thought of that until we had asked -your consent. We agreed that I should come over this autumn and speak to -you about it; nothing passed at Balholm but just the assurance that we -loved each other.” - -“Loved each other!” ejaculated Mr. Morgan, beginning to pace the room -with a look of perplexity and annoyance. “What folly will the girl -commit next?” - -At this Frithiof also rose to his feet, the angry color rising to his -face. “I should never have spoken of my love to your daughter had I not -been in a position to support her,” he said hotly. “By your English -standards I may not, perhaps, be very rich, but our firm is one of the -leading firms in Bergen. We come of a good old Norwegian family. Why -should it be a folly for your daughter to love me?” - -“You misunderstand me,” said Mr. Morgan. “I don’t wish to say one word -against yourself. However, as you have alluded to the matter I must tell -you plainly that I expect my daughter to make a very different marriage. -Money I can provide her with. Her husband will supply her with a title.” - -“What!” cried Frithiof furiously, “you will force her to marry some -wretched aristocrat whom she can’t possibly love? For the sake of a mere -title you ruin her happiness.” - -“I shall certainly do nothing of the kind,” said the Englishman, with a -touch of dignity. “Sit down, Herr Falck, and listen to me. I would have -spared you this had it been possible. You are very young, and you have -taken things for granted too much. You believed that the first pretty -girl that flirted with you was your future wife. I can quite fancy that -Blanche was well pleased to have you dancing attendance on her in -Norway, but it was on her part nothing but a flirtation, she does not -care for you in the least.” - -“I do not believe it,” said Frithiof hotly. - -“Don’t think that I wish to excuse her,” said Mr. Morgan. “She is very -much to be blamed. But, she is pretty and winsome, she knows her own -power, and it pleases her to use it; women are all of them vain and -selfish. What do they care for the suffering they cause?” - -“You shall not say such things of her,” cried Frithiof desperately. “It -is not true. It can’t be true!” - -His face had grown deathly pale, and he was trembling with excitement. -Mr. Morgan felt sorry for him. - -“My poor fellow,” he said kindly, “don’t take it so hard. You are not -the first man who has been deceived. I am heartily sorry that my child’s -foolish thoughtlessness should have given you this to bear. But, after -all, it’s a lesson every one has to learn; you were inexperienced and -young.” - -“It is not possible!” repeated Frithiof in terrible agitation, -remembering vividly her promises, her words of love, her kisses, the -expression of her eyes, as she had yielded to his eager declaration of -love. “I will never believe it possible till I hear it from her own -lips.” - -With a gesture of annoyance, Mr. Morgan crossed the room and rang the -bell. “Well, let it be so, then,” he said coldly. “Blanche has treated -you ill; I don’t doubt it for a moment, and you will have every right to -hear the explanation from herself.” Then, as the servant appeared, “Tell -Miss Morgan that I want her in the drawing-room. Desire her to come at -once.” - -The minutes of waiting which followed were the worst Frithiof had ever -lived through. Doubt, fear, indignation, and passionate love strove -together in his heart, while mingled with all was the oppressive -consciousness of his host’s presence, and of the aggressive superiority -of the room and its contents. - -Perhaps the waiting was not altogether pleasant to Mr. Morgan; he poked -the fire and moved about restlessly. When, at last, light footsteps were -heard on the stairs, and Blanche entered the room, he turned toward her -with evident displeasure in his face. - -She wore a dress of reddish brown with a great deal of plush about it, -and something in the way it was made suggested the greatest possible -contrast to the little simple traveling-dress she had worn in Norway. -Her eyes were bright and eager, her loveliness as great as ever. - -“You wanted me, papa?” she began; then, as she came forward and -recognized Frithiof, she gave a little start of dismay and the color -burned in her cheeks. - -“Yes, I wanted you,” said Mr. Morgan gravely. “Herr Falck’s son has just -arrived.” - -She struggled hard to recover herself. - -“I am very glad to see you again,” she said, forcing up a little -artificial laugh and holding out her hand. - -But Frithiof had seen her first expression of dismay and it had turned -him into ice; he would not take her proffered hand, but only bowed -formally. There was a painful silence. - -“This is not the first time, Blanche, that you have learned what comes -of playing with edged tools,” said Mr. Morgan sternly. “I heard from -others that you had flirted with Herr Falck’s son in Norway; I now learn -that it was by your own suggestion that he came to England to ask my -consent to an engagement, and that you allowed him to believe that you -loved him. What have you to say for yourself?” - -While her father spoke, Blanche had stood by with bent head and downcast -eyes; at this direct question she looked up for a moment. - -“I thought I did care for him just at the time,” she faltered. “It—it -was a mistake.” - -“Why, then, did you not write and tell him so? It was the least you -could have done,” said her father. - -“It was such a difficult letter to write,” she faltered. “I kept on -putting it off, and hoping that he, too, would find out his mistake. And -then sometimes I thought I could explain it all better to him if he -came.” - -Frithiof made a step or two forward; his face was pale and rigid; the -blue seemed to have died out of his eyes—they looked like steel. “I wait -for your explanation,” he said, in a voice which, in spite of its -firmness, betrayed intense agitation. - -Mr. Morgan without a word quitted the room, and the two were left alone. -Again there was a long, expressive silence. Then, with a sob, Blanche -turned away, sinking down on an ottoman and covering her face with her -hands. Her tears instantly melted Frithiof; his indignation and wounded -pride gave pace to love and tenderness; a sort of wild hope rose in his -mind. - -“Blanche! Blanche!” he cried. “It isn’t true! It can’t be all over! -Others have been urging you to make some grand marriage—to be the wife -perhaps of some rich nobleman. But he can not love you as I love you. -Oh! have you forgotten how you told me I might trust to you? There is -not a moment since then that you have not been in my thoughts.” - -“I hoped so you would forget,” she sobbed. - -“How could I forget? What man could help remembering you day and night? -Oh, Blanche, don’t you understand that I love you? I love you!” - -“I understand only too well,” she said, glancing at him, her dark eyes -brimming over with tears. - -He drew nearer. - -“And you will love me once more,” he said passionately. “You will not -choose rank and wealth; you will—” - -“Oh, hush! hush!” she cried. “It has all been a dreadful mistake. I -never really loved you. Oh, don’t look like that! I was very dull in -Norway—there was no one else but you. I am sorry; very sorry.” - -He started back from her as if she had dealt him some mortal blow, but -Blanche went on, speaking quickly and incoherently, never looking in his -face. - -“After we went away I began to see all the difficulties so plainly—our -belonging to different countries, and being accustomed to different -things; but still I did really think I liked you till we got to -Christiania. There, on the steamer coming home, I found that it had all -been a mistake.” - -She paused. All this time she had carefully kept the fingers of her left -hand out of view; the position was too constrained not to attract -Frithiof’s notice. - -He remembered that, in the wearing of betrothal or wedding-rings, -English custom reversed the Norwegian, and turned upon her almost -fiercely. - -“Why do you try to hide that from me?” he cried. “Are you already -betrothed to this other man?” - -“It was only last Sunday,” she sobbed. “And I meant to write to you; I -did indeed.” - -Once more she covered her face with her hands, this time not attempting -to hide from Frithiof the beautiful circlet of brilliants on her third -finger. - -It seemed to him that giant hands seized on him then and crushed out of -him his very life. Yet the pain of living went on remorselessly, and as -if from a very great distance he heard Blanche’s voice. - -“I am engaged to Lord Romiaux,” she said. “He had been in Norway on a -fishing tour, but it was on the steamer that we first met. And then -almost directly I knew that at Munkeggen it had all been quite a -mistake, and that I had never really loved you. We met again at one of -the watering-places in September, but it was only settled the day before -yesterday. I wish—oh, how I wish—that I had written to tell you!” - -She stood up impulsively and drew nearer to him. - -“Is there nothing I can do to make up for my mistake?” she said, lifting -pathetic eyes to his. - -“Nothing.” he said bitterly. - -“Oh, don’t think badly of me for it,” she pleaded. “Don’t hate me.” - -“Hate you?” he exclaimed. “It will be the curse of my life that I love -you—that you have made me love you.” - -He turned as though to go away. - -“Don’t go without saying good-by,” she exclaimed; and her eyes said more -plainly than words, “I do not mind if you kiss me just once more.” - -He paused, ice one minute, fire the next, yet through it all aware that -his conscience was urging him to go without delay. - -Blanche watched him tremulously; she drew yet nearer. - -“Could we not still be friends?” she said, with a pathetic little quiver -in her voice. - -“No,” he cried vehemently, yet with a certain dignity in his manner; -“no, we could not.” - -Then, before Blanche could recover enough from her sense of humiliation -at this rebuff to speak, he bowed to her and left the room. - -She threw herself down on the sofa and buried her face in the cushions. -“Oh, what must he think of me? what must he think of me?” she sobbed. -“How I wish I had written to him at once and saved myself this dreadful -scene! How could I have been so silly! so dreadfully silly! To be afraid -of writing a few words in a letter! My poor Viking! he looked so grand -as he turned away. I wish we could have been friends still; it used to -be so pleasant in Norway; he was so unlike other people; he interested -me. And now it is all over, and I shall never be able to meet him again. -Oh, I have managed very badly. If I had not been so imprudent on -Munkeggen he might have been my cavalier all his life, and I should have -liked to show him over here to people. I should have liked to initiate -him in everything.” - -The clock on the mantel-piece struck five. She started up and ran across -to one of the mirrors, looking anxiously at her eyes. “Oh, dear! oh, -dear! what shall I do?” she thought. “Algernon will be here directly, -and I have made a perfect object of myself with crying.” Then, as the -door-bell rang, she caught up a couvrette, sunk down on the sofa, and -covered herself up picturesquely. “There is nothing for it but a bad -headache,” she said to herself. - - - - - CHAPTER VI. - - -On the stairs Frithiof was waylaid by Mr. Morgan; it was with a sort of -surprise that he heard his own calm replies to the Englishman’s polite -speeches, and regrets, and inquiries as to when he returned to Norway, -for all the time his head was swimming, and it was astonishing that he -could frame a correct English phrase. The thought occurred to him that -Mr. Morgan would be glad enough to get rid of him and to put an end to -so uncomfortable a visit; he could well imagine the shrug of relief with -which the Englishman would return to his fireside, with its aggressively -grand fenders and fire-irons, and would say to himself, “Well, poor -devil, I am glad he is gone! A most provoking business from first to -last.” For to the Morgans the affair would probably end as soon as the -door had closed behind him, but for himself it would drag on and on -indefinitely. He walked on mechanically past the great houses which, to -his unaccustomed eyes, looked so palatial; every little trivial thing -seemed to obtrude itself upon him; he noticed the wan, haggard-looking -crossing sweeper, who tried his best to find something to sweep on that -dry, still day when even autumn leaves seldom fell; he noticed the -pretty spire of the church, and heard the clock strike five, reflecting -that one brief half-hour had been enough to change his whole life—to -bring him from the highest point of hope and eager anticipation to this -lowest depth of wretchedness. The endless succession of great, -monotonous houses grew intolerable to him; he crossed the road and -turned into Kensington Gardens, aware, as the first wild excitement died -down in his heart, of a cold, desolate blankness, the misery of which -appalled him. What was the meaning of it all? How could it possibly be -borne? Only by degrees did it dawn upon his overwrought brain that -Blanche’s faithlessness had robbed him of much more than her love. It -had left him stripped and wounded on the highway of life; it had taken -from him all belief in woman; it had made forever impossible for him his -old creed of the joy of mere existence; it had killed his youth. Was he -now to get up, and crawl on, and drag through the rest of his life as -best might be? Why, what was life worth to him now? He had been a fool -ever to believe in it; it was as she herself had once told him, he had -believed that it was all-sufficient merely because he had never known -unhappiness—never known the agony that follows when, for— - - “The first time Nature says plain ‘No’ - To some ‘Yes’ in you, and walks over you - In gorgeous sweeps of scorn.” - -His heart was so utterly dead that he could not even think of his home; -neither his father nor Sigrid rose before him as he looked down that -long, dreary vista of life that lay beyond. He could only see that -Blanche was no longer his; that the Blanche he had loved and believed in -had never really existed; that he had been utterly deceived, cheated, -defrauded; and that something had been taken from him which could never -return. - -“I will not live a day longer,” he said to himself; “not an hour -longer.” And in the relief of having some attainable thing to desire -ardently, were it only death and annihilation, he quickened his pace and -felt a sort of renewal of energy and life within him, urging him on, -holding before him the one aim which he thought was worth pursuing. He -would end it all quickly, he would not linger on, weakly bemoaning his -fate, or railing at life for having failed him and disappointed his -hopes; he would just put an end to everything without more ado. As to -arguing with himself about the right or wrong of the matter, such a -notion never occurred to him, he just walked blindly on, certain that -some opportunity would present itself, buoyed up by an unreasoning hope -that death would bring him relief. - -By this time he had reached Hyde Park, and a vague memory came back to -him; he remembered that, as he drove to Lancaster Gate, that afternoon, -he had crossed a bridge. There was water over there. It should be that -way. And he walked on more rapidly than before, still with an almost -dazzling perception of all the trifling little details, the color of the -dry, dusty road, the green of the turf, the dresses of those who passed -by him, the sound of their voices, the strange incongruity of their -perfectly unconcerned, contented faces. He would get away from all -this—would wait till it was dusk, when he could steal down unnoticed to -the water. Buoyed up by this last hope of relief, he walked along the -north shore of the Serpentine, passed the Receiving House of the Royal -Humane Society, with an unconcerned thought that his lifeless body would -probably be taken there, passed the boat-house with a fervent hope that -no one there would try a rescue, and at length, finding a seat under a -tree close to the water’s edge, sat down to wait for the darkness. It -need not be for long, for already the sun was setting, and over toward -the west he could see that behind the glowing orange and russet of the -autumn trees was a background of crimson sky. The pretty little wooded -island and the round green boat-house on the shore stood out in strong -relief; swans and ducks swam about contentedly; on the further bank was -a dark fringe of trees; away to the left the three arches of a -gray-stone bridge. In the evening light it made a fair picture, but the -beauty of it seemed only to harden him, for it reminded him of past -happiness; he turned with sore-hearted relief to the nearer view of the -Serpentine gleaming coldly as its waters washed the shore, and to the -dull monotony of the path in front of him with its heaps of brown -leaves. A bird sat singing in the beech-tree above him; its song jarred -on him just as much as the beauty of the sunset, it seemed to urge him -to leave the place where he was not needed, to take himself out of a -world which was meant for beauty and brightness and success, a world -which had no sympathy for failure or misery. He longed for the song to -cease, and he longed for the sunset glory to fade, he was impatient for -the end; the mere waiting for that brief interval became to him almost -intolerable; only the dread of being rescued held him back. - -Presently footsteps on the path made him look up; a shabbily dressed -girl walked slowly by, she was absorbed in a newspaper story and did not -notice him; neither did she notice her charge, a pale-faced, dark-eyed -little girl of about six years old who followed her at some distance, -chanting a pretty, monotonous little tune as she dragged a toy-cart -along the gravel. Frithiof, with the preternatural powers of observation -which seemed his that day, noticed in an instant every tiniest detail of -the child’s face and dress and bearing, the curious anatomy of the -wooden horse, the heap of golden leaves in the little cart. As the child -drew nearer, the words of the song became perfectly audible to him. She -sang very slowly, and in a sort of unconscious way, as if she couldn’t -help it: - - “Comfort every sufferer, - Watching late in pain—” - -She paused to put another handful of leaves into the cart, arranged them -with great care, patted the wooden steed, and resumed her song as if -there had been no interruption— - - “Those who plan some evil, - From their sin restrain.” - -Frithiof felt as if a knife had been suddenly plunged into him; he tried -to hear more, but the words died away, he could only follow the -monotonous little tune in the clear voice, and the rattling of the toy -cart on the pathway. And so the child passed on out of sight, and he saw -her no more. - -He was alone again, and the twilight for which he had longed was fast -closing in upon him; a sort of blue haze seemed gathering over the park; -night was coming on. What was this horrible new struggle which was -beginning within him? “Evil,” “sin”; could he not at least do what he -would with his own life? Where was the harm in ending that which was -hopelessly spoiled and ruined? Was not suicide a perfectly legitimate -ending to a life? - -A voice within him answered his question plainly: - -“To the man with a diseased brain—the man who doesn’t know what he is -about—it is no worse an end than to die in bed of a fever. But to -you—you who are afraid of the suffering of life, you who know quite well -what you are doing—to you it is sin.” - -Fight against it as he would, he could not stifle this new consciousness -which had arisen within him. What had led him, he angrily wondered, to -choose that particular place to wait in? What had made that child walk -past? What had induced her to sing those particular words? Did that -vague First Cause, in whom after a fashion he believed, take any heed of -trifles such as those? He would never believe that. Only women or -children could hold such a creed: only those who led sheltered, -innocent, ignorant lives. But a man—a man who had just learned what the -world really was, who saw that the weakest went to the wall, and might -triumphed over right—a man who had once believed in the beauty of life -and had been bitterly disillusioned—could never believe in a God who -ordered all things for good. It was a chance, a mere unlucky chance, yet -the child’s words had made it impossible for him to die in peace. - -As a matter of fact the sunset sky and fading light had suggested to the -little one’s untroubled mind the familiar evening hymn with its graphic -description of scenery, its beautiful word-painting, its wide human -sympathies; and that great mystery of life which links us together, -whether we know it or not, gave to the child the power to counteract the -influence of Blanche Morgan’s faithlessness, and to appeal to one to -whom the sight of that same sunset had suggested only thoughts of -despair. - -A wild confusion of memories seemed to rush through his mind, and -blended with them always were the welcome words and the quiet little -chant. He was back at home again talking with the old pastor who had -prepared him for confirmation; he was a mere boy once more, -unhesitatingly accepting all that he was taught; he was standing in the -great crowded Bergen church and declaring his belief in Christ, and his -entire willingness to give up everything wrong; he was climbing a -mountain with Blanche and arguing with her that life—mere existence—was -beautiful and desirable. - -Looking back afterward on the frightful struggle, it seemed to him that -for ages he had tossed to and fro in that horrible hesitation. In -reality all must have been over within a quarter of an hour. There rose -before him the recollection of his father as he had last seen him -standing on the deck of the steamer, and he remembered the tone of his -voice as he had said: - -“I look to you, Frithiof, to carry out the aims in which I myself have -failed, to live the life that I could wish to have lived.” - -He saw once again the wistful look in his father’s eyes, the mingled -love, pride, and anxiety with which he had turned to him, loath to let -him go, and yet eager to speed him on his way. Should he now disappoint -all his hopes? Should he, deliberately and in the full possession of all -his faculties, take a step which must bring terrible suffering to his -home people? And then he remembered for the first time that already -trouble and vexation and loss had overtaken his father; he knew well how -greatly he would regret the connection with the English firm, and he -pictured to himself the familiar house in Kalvedalen with a new and -unfamiliar cloud upon it, till instead of the longing for death there -came to him a nobler longing—a longing to go back and help, a longing to -make up to his father for the loss and vexation and the slight which had -been put upon him. He began to feel ashamed of the other wish, he began -to realize that there was still something to be lived for, though indeed -life looked to him as dim and uninviting as the twilight park with its -wreaths of gray mists, and its unpeopled solitude. - -Yet still he would live; the other thought no longer allured him, his -strength and manliness were returning; with bitter resolution he tore -himself from the vision of Blanche which rose mockingly before him, and -getting up, made his way out of the park. - -Emerging once more into the busy world of traffic at Hyde Park corner, -the perception of his forlorn desolateness came to him with far more -force than in the quiet path by the Serpentine. For the first time he -felt keenly that he was in an unknown city, and there came over him a -sick longing for Norway, for dear old Bergen, for the familiar -mountains, the familiar faces, the friendly greetings of passers-by. For -a few minutes he stood still, uncertain which road to take, wondering -how in the world he should get through the weary hours of his solitary -evening. Close by him a young man stood talking to the occupants of a -brougham which had drawn up by the pavement; he heard a word or two of -their talk, dimly, almost unconsciously. - -“Is the result of the trial known yet?” - -“Yes, five years’ penal servitude, and no more than he deserves.” - -“The poor children! what will become of them?” - -“Shall you be home by ten? We wont hinder you, then.” - -“Quite by ten. Tell father that Sardoni is free for the night he wanted -him; I met him just now. Good-by.” Then to the coachman “Home!” - -The word startled Frithiof back to the recollection of his own affairs; -he had utterly lost his bearings and must ask for direction. He would -accost this man who seemed a little less in a hurry than the rest of the -world. - -“Will you kindly tell me the way to the Arundel Hotel?” he asked. - -The young man turned at the sound of his voice, looked keenly at him for -an instant, then held out his hand in cordial welcome. - -“How are you?” he exclaimed. “What a lucky chance that we should have -run across each other in the dark like this! Have you been long in -England?” - -Frithiof, at the first word of hearty greeting, looked up with startled -eyes, and in the dim gas-light he saw the honest English face and kindly -eyes of Roy Boniface. - - - - - CHAPTER VII. - - -Meantime the brougham had bowled swiftly away and its two occupants had -settled themselves down comfortably as though they were preparing for a -long drive. - -“Are you warm enough, my child? Better let me have this window down, and -you put yours up,” said Mrs. Boniface, glancing with motherly anxiety at -the fair face beside her. - -“You spoil me, mother dear,” said Cecil. “And indeed I do want you not -to worry about me. I am quite strong, if you would only believe it.” - -“Well, well, I hope you are,” said Mrs. Boniface, with a sigh. “But any -way it’s more than you look, child.” - -And the mother thought wistfully of two graves in a distant cemetery -where Cecil’s sisters lay; and she remembered with a cruel pang that -only a few days ago some friend had remarked to her, with the -thoughtless frankness of a rapid talker, “Cecil is looking so pretty -just now, but she’s got the consumptive look in her face, don’t you -think?” And these words lay rankling in the poor mother’s heart, even -though she had been assured by the doctors that there was no disease, no -great delicacy even, no cause whatever for anxiety. - -“I am glad we have seen Doctor Royston,” said Cecil, “because now we -shall feel quite comfortable, and you wont be anxious any more, mother. -It would be dreadful, I think, to have to be a sort of semi-invalid all -one’s life, though I suppose some people just enjoy it, since Doctor -Royston said that half the girls in London were invalided just for want -of sensible work. I rather believe, mother, that is what has been the -matter with me,” and she laughed. - -“You, my dear!” said Mrs. Boniface; “I am sure you are not at all idle -at home. No one could say such a thing of you.” - -“But I am always having to invent things to do to keep myself busy,” -said Cecil. “Mother, I have got a plan in my head now that would settle -my work for five whole years, and I do so want you to say ‘yes’ to it.” - -“It isn’t that you want to go into some sisterhood?” asked Mrs. -Boniface, her gentle gray eyes filling with tears. - -“Oh, no, no,” said Cecil emphatically. “Why, how could I ever go away -from home and leave you, darling, just as I am getting old enough to be -of use to you? It’s nothing of that kind, and the worst of it is that it -would mean a good deal of expense to father, which seems hardly fair.” - -“He wont grudge that,” said Mrs. Boniface. “Your father would do -anything to please you, dear. What is this plan? Let me hear about it.” - -“Well, the other night when I was hearing all about those poor Grantleys -opposite to us—how the mother had left her husband and children and gone -off no one knows where, and then how the father had forged that check -and would certainly be imprisoned; I began to wonder what sort of a -chance the children had in the world. And no one seemed to know or to -care what would become of them, except father, and he said we must try -to get them into some asylum or school.” - -“It isn’t many asylums that would care to take them, I expect,” said -Mrs. Boniface. “Poor little things, there’s a hard fight before them! -But what was your plan?” - -“Why, mother, it was just to persuade father to let them come to us for -the five years. Of course it would be an expense to him, but I would -teach them, and help to take care of them; and oh, it would be so nice -to have children about the house! One can never be dull where there are -children.” - -“I knew she was dull at home,” thought the mother to herself. “It was -too much of a change for her to come back from school, from so many -educated people and young friends, to an ignorant old woman like me and -a silent house. Not that the child would ever allow it.” - -“But of course, darling,” said Cecil, “I wont say a word more about it -if you think it would trouble you or make the house too noisy.” - -“There is plenty of room for them, poor little mites,” said Mrs. -Boniface. “And the plan is just like you, dear. There’s only one -objection I have to it. I don’t like your binding yourself to work for -so many years—not just now while you are so young. I should have liked -you to marry, dear.” - -“But I don’t think that is likely,” said Cecil. “And it does seem so -stupid to let the time pass on, and do nothing for years and years just -because there is a chance that some man whom you could accept may -propose to you. The chances are quite equal that it may not be so, and -then you have wasted a great part of your life.” - -“I wish you could have fancied Herbert White,” said Mrs. Boniface -wistfully. “He would have made such a good husband.” - -“I hope he will to some one else. But that would have been impossible, -mother, quite, quite impossible.” - -“Cecil, dearie, is there—is there any one else?” - -“No one, mother,” said Cecil quietly, and the color in her cheeks did -not deepen, and Mrs. Boniface felt satisfied. Yet, nevertheless, at that -very moment there flashed into Cecil’s mind the perception of the real -reason which had made it impossible for her to accept the offer of -marriage that a week or two ago she had refused. She saw that Frithiof -Falck would always be to her a sort of standard by which to measure the -rest of mankind, and she faced the thought quietly, for there never had -been any question of love between them; he would probably marry the -pretty Miss Morgan, and it was very unlikely that she should ever meet -him again. - -“The man whom I could accept must be that sort of man,” she thought to -herself. “And there is something degrading in the idea of standing and -waiting for the doubtful chance that such a one may some day appear. -Surely we girls were not born into the world just to stand in rows -waiting to get married?” - -“And I am sure I don’t know what I should do without you if you did get -married,” said Mrs. Boniface, driving back the tears which had started -to her eyes, “so I don’t know why I am so anxious that it should come -about, except that I should so like to see you happy.” - -“And so I am happy, perfectly happy,” said Cecil, and as she spoke she -suddenly bent forward and kissed her mother. “A girl would have to be -very wicked not to be happy with you and father and Roy to live with.” - -“I wish you were not cut off from so much,” said Mrs. Boniface. “You -see, dear, if you were alone in the world people would take you up—I -mean the style of people you would care to be friends with—but as long -as there’s the shop, and as long as you have a mother who can’t talk -well about recent books, and who is not always sure how to pronounce -things—” - -“Mother! mother!” cried Cecil, “how can you say such things? As long as -I have you, what do I want with any one else?” - -Mrs. Boniface patted the girl’s hand tenderly. - -“I like to talk of the books with you, dearie,” she said; “you -understand that. There’s nothing pleases me better than to hear you read -of an evening, and I’m very much interested in that poor Mrs. Carlyle, -though it does seem to me it’s a comfort to be in private life, where no -biographers can come raking up all your foolish words and bits of -quarrels after you are dead and buried. Why, here we are at home. How -quick we have got down this evening! As to your plan, dearie, I’ll just -talk it over with father the very first chance I have.” - -“Thank you, mother. I do so hope he will let us have them.” And Cecil -sprang out of the carriage with more animation in her face than Mrs. -Boniface had seen there for a long time. - -Mrs. Boniface was a Devonshire woman, and, notwithstanding her -five-and-twenty years of London life, she still preserved something of -her western accent and intonation; she had also the gentle manner and -the quiet consideration and courtesy which seem innate in most -west-country people. As to education, she had received the best that was -to be had for tradesmen’s daughters in the days of her youth, but she -was well aware that it did not come up to modern requirements, and had -taken good care that Cecil should be brought up very differently. There -was something very attractive in her homely simplicity; and though she -could not help regretting that Cecil, owing to her position, was cut off -from much that other girls enjoyed, nothing would have induced her to -try to push her way in the world,—she was too true a lady for that, and, -moreover, beneath all her gentleness had too much dignity and -independence of character. So it had come to pass that they lived a very -quiet life, with few intimate friends and not too many acquaintances; -but perhaps they were none the less happy for that. Certainly there was -about the home a sense of peace and rest not too often to be met with in -this bustling nineteenth century. - -The opportunity for suggesting Cecil’s plan to Mr. Boniface came soon -after they reached home. In that house things were wont to be quickly -settled; they were not great at discussions, and perhaps this accounted -in a great measure for the peace of the domestic atmosphere. Certainly -there is nothing so productive of family quarrels as the habit of -perpetually talking over the various arrangements, household or -personal, and many a good digestion must have been ruined, and many a -temper soured by the baneful habit of arguing the _pros_ and _cons_ of -some vexed question during breakfast or dinner. - -Cecil was in the drawing-room, playing one of Chopin’s Ballads, when her -father came into the room. He stood by the fire till she had finished, -watching her thoughtfully. He was an elderly man, tall and spare, with a -small, shapely head, white hair and trim white beard. His gray eyes were -honest and kindly, like his son’s, and the face was a good as well as a -refined face. He was one of the deacons of a Congregational chapel, and -came of an old Nonconformist family, which for many generations had -pleaded and suffered for religious liberty. Robert Boniface was true to -his principles, and when his children grew up, and, becoming old enough -to go thoroughly into the question, declared their wish to join the -Church of England, he made not the slightest objection. What was more, -he would not even allow them to see that it was a grief to him. - -“It is not to be supposed that every one should see from one point of -view,” he had said to his wife. “We are all of us looking to the same -sun, and that is the great thing.” - -Such division must always be a little sad, but mutual love and mutual -respect made them in this case a positive gain. There were no arguments, -but each learned to see and admire what was good in the other’s view, to -hold stanchly to what was deemed right, and to live in that love which -practically nullifies all petty divisions and differences. - -“And so I hear that you want to be mothering those little children over -the way,” said Mr. Boniface, when the piece was ended. - -Cecil crossed the room and stood beside him. - -“What do you think about it, father?” she asked. - -“I think that before you decide you must realize that it will be a great -responsibility.” - -“I have thought of that,” she said. “And of course there is the expense -to be thought of.” - -“Never mind about the expense; I will undertake that part of the matter -if you will undertake the responsibility. Do you quite realize that even -pretty little children are sometimes cross and naughty and ill?” - -She laughed. - -“Yes, yes; I have seen those children in all aspects, and they are -rather spoiled. But I can’t bear to think that they will be sent to some -great institution, with no one to care for them properly.” - -“Then you are willing to undertake your share of the bargain?” - -“Quite.” - -“Very well, then, that is settled. Let us come across and see if any one -has stepped in before us.” - -Cecil, in great excitement, flew upstairs to tell her mother, and -reappeared in a minute or two in her hat and jacket. Then the father and -daughter crossed the quiet suburban road to the opposite house, where -such a different life-story had been lived. The door was opened to them -by the nurse; she had evidently been crying, and even as they entered -the passage they seemed conscious of the desolation of the whole -atmosphere. - -“Oh, miss, have you heard the verdict?” said the servant, who knew Cecil -slightly, and was eager for sympathy. “And what’s to become of my little -ones no one seems to know.” - -“That is just what we came to inquire about,” said Mr. Boniface, “We -heard there were no relations to take charge of them. Is that true?” - -“There’s not a creature in the world to care for them, sir,” said the -nurse. “There’s the lawyer looking through master’s papers now, sir, and -he says we must be out of this by next week, and that he must look up -some sort of school where they’ll take them cheap. A school for them -little bits of things, sir, isn’t it enough to break one’s heart? And -little Miss Gwen so delicate, and only a lawyer to choose it, one as -knows nothing but about parchments and red tape, sir, and hasn’t so much -as handled a child in his life, I’ll be bound.” - -“If Mr. Grantley’s solicitor is here I should like to speak to him for a -minute,” said Mr. Boniface. “I’ll be with you again before long, Cecil; -perhaps you could see the children.” - -He was shown into the study which had belonged to the master of the -house, and unfolded Cecil’s suggestion to the lawyer, who proved to be a -much more fatherly sort of man than the nurse had represented. He was -quite certain that his client would be only too grateful for so friendly -an act. - -“Things have gone hardly with poor Grantley,” he remarked. “And such an -offer will be the greatest possible surprise to him. The poor fellow has -not had a fair chance; handicapped with such a wife, one can almost -forgive him for going to the bad. I shall be seeing him once more -to-morrow, and will let you know what he says. But of course there can -be but one answer—he will thankfully accept your help.” - -Meanwhile Cecil had been taken upstairs to the nursery; it looked a -trifle less desolate than the rest of the house, yet lying on the table -among the children’s toys she saw an evening paper with the account of -the verdict and sentence on John Grantley. - -The nurse had gone into the adjoining room, but she quickly returned. - -“They are asleep, miss, but you’ll come in and see them, wont you?” - -Cecil had wished for this, and followed her guide into the dimly lighted -night nursery, where in two little cribs lay her future charges. They -were beautiful children, and as she watched them in their untroubled -sleep and thought of the mother who had deserted them and disgraced her -name, and the father who was that moment beginning his five years of -penal servitude, her heart ached for the little ones, and more and more -she longed to help them. - -Lancelot, the elder of the two, was just four years old; he had a sweet, -rosy, determined little face with a slightly Jewish look about it, his -curly brown hair was long enough to fall back over the pillow, and in -his fat little hand he grasped a toy horse, which was his inseparable -companion night and day. The little girl was much smaller and much more -fragile-looking, though in some respects the two were alike. Her baby -face looked exquisite now in its perfect peace, and Cecil did not wonder -that the nurse’s tears broke forth again as she spoke of the little -two-year-old Gwen being sent to school. They were still talking about -the matter when Mr. Boniface rejoined them; the lawyer also came in, -and, to the nurse’s surprise, even looked at the sleeping children. -“Quite human-like,” as she remarked afterward to the cook. - -“Don’t you distress yourself about the children,” he said kindly. “It -will be all right for them. Probably they will only have to move across -the road. We shall know definitely about it to-morrow; but this -gentleman has very generously offered to take care of them.” - -The nurse’s tearful gratitude was interrupted by a sound from one of the -cribs. Lance, disturbed perhaps by the voices, was talking in his sleep. - -“Gee-up,” he shouted, in exact imitation of a carter, as he waved the -toy-horse in the air. - -Every one laughed, and took the hint: the lawyer went back to his work, -and Mr. Boniface and Cecil, after a few parting words with the happy -servant, recrossed the road to Rowan Tree House. - -“Oh, father, it is so very good of you,” said Cecil, slipping her arm -into his; “I haven’t been so happy for an age!” - -“And I am happy,” he replied, “that it is such a thing as this which -pleases my daughter.” - -After that there followed a delightful evening of anticipation, and Mrs. -Boniface entered into the plan with her whole heart and talked of -nursery furniture put away in the loft, and arranged the new nursery in -imagination fifty times over—always with improvements. And this made -them talk of the past, and she began to tell amusing stories of Roy and -Cecil when they were children, and even went back to remembrances of her -own nursery life, in which a stern nurse who administered medicine with -a forcing spoon figured largely. - -“I believe,” said the gentle old lady, laughing, “that it was due to -that old nurse of mine that I never could bear theological arguments. -She began them when we were so young that we took a fatal dislike to -them. I can well remember, as a little thing of four years old, sitting -on the punishment chair in the nursery when all the others were out at -play, and wishing that Adam and Eve hadn’t sinned.” - -“You all sound very merry,” said Roy, opening the door before the laugh -which greeted this story had died away. - -“Why, how nice and early you are, Roy!” exclaimed Cecil. “Oh! mother has -been telling us no end of stories, you ought to have been here to listen -to them. And, Roy, we are most likely going to have those little -children over the way to live with us till their father is out of prison -again.” - -Roy seemed grave and preoccupied, but Cecil was too happy to notice -that, and chattered on contentedly. He scarcely heard her, yet a sense -of strong contrast made the home-likeness of the scene specially -emphasized to him. He looked at his father leaning back in the great -arm-chair, with reading-lamp and papers close by him, but with his eyes -fixed on Cecil as she sat on the rug at his feet, the firelight -brightening her fair hair; he looked at his mother on the opposite side -of the hearth, in the familiar dress which she almost always wore—black -silk with soft white lace about the neck and bodice, and a pretty white -lace cap. She was busy with her netting, but every now and then glanced -up at him. - -“You are tired to-night, Roy,” she said, when Cecil’s story had come to -an end. - -“Just a little,” he owned. “Such a curious thing happened to me. It was -a good thing you caught sight of me at Hyde Park Corner and stopped to -ask about the trial, Cecil, for otherwise it would never have come -about. Who do you think I met just as you drove on?” - -“I can’t guess,” said Cecil, rising from her place on the hearth-rug as -the gong sounded for supper. - -“One of our Norwegian friends,” said Roy. “Frithiof Falck.” - -“What! is he actually in England?” said Cecil, taking up the -reading-lamp to carry it into the next room. - -“Yes, poor fellow,” said Roy. - -Something in his tone made Cecil’s heart beat quickly; she could not -have accounted for the strength of the feeling which suddenly -overwhelmed her; she hardly knew what it was she feared so much, or why -such a sudden panic had seized upon her; she trembled from head to foot, -and was glad as they crossed the hall to hand the lamp to Roy, glancing -up at him as she did so, apprehensively. - -“Why do you say poor fellow?” she asked. “Oh, Roy, what is the matter? -what—what has happened to him?” - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. - - -“The house seems quiet without Frithiof,” remarked Herr Falck on the -Monday after his son’s departure. - -Frithiof at that very moment was walking through the streets of Hull, -feeling lonely and desolate enough. They felt desolate without him at -Bergen, and began to talk much of his return, and to wonder when the -wedding would be, and to settle what presents they would give Blanche. - -The dining-room looked very pleasant on that October morning. Sigrid, -though never quite happy when her twin was away, was looking forward -eagerly to his return, and was so much cheered by the improvement in her -father’s health and spirits that she felt more at rest than she had done -for some time. Little Swanhild, whose passion for Blanche increased -daily, was in the seventh heaven of happiness, and though she had not -been told everything, knew quite well that the general expectation was -that Frithiof would be betrothed to her ideal. As for Herr Falck he -looked eager and hopeful, and it seemed as if some cloud of care had -been lifted off him. He talked more than he had done of late, teased -Swanhild merrily about her lessons, and kept both girls laughing and -chattering at the table till Swanhild had to run off in a hurry, -declaring that she should be late for school. - -“You should not tell such funny stories in the morning, little father!” -she said laughingly, as she stopped for the customary kiss and “_tak for -maden_” (thanks for the meal) on her way out of the room. - -“Ah, but to laugh is so good for the digestion,” said Herr Falck. “You -will read English all the better in consequence. See if you don’t.” - -“Are you busy to-day, father?” asked Sigrid, as the door closed behind -the little girl. - -“Not at all. I shall take a walk before going to the office. I tell you -what, Sigrid, you shall come with me and get a new English story at -Beyer’s, to cheer you in Frithiof’s absence. What was the novel some one -told you gave the best description of English home life?” - -“‘Wives and Daughters,’” said Sigrid. - -“Well, let us get it then, and afterward we will take a turn above -Walkendorf’s Tower, and see if there is any sign of our vessels from -Iceland.” - -“You heard good news of them last month, did you not?” asked Sigrid. - -“No definite news, but everything was very hopeful. They sent word by -the steamer to Granton, and telegraphed from there to our station in -Öifjord.” - -“What did they say?” - -“That as yet there was no catch of herrings, but that everything was -most promising, as plenty of whales were seen every day at the mouth of -the fjord. Oh, I am perfectly satisfied. I have had no anxiety about the -expedition since then.” So father and daughter set out together. It was -a clear frosty morning, the wintry air was invigorating, and Sigrid -thought she had never seen her father look so well before; his step -seemed so light, his brow so smooth, his eyes so unclouded. Beyer’s shop -had fascinations for them both; she lingered long in the neighborhood of -the Tauchnitz shelves, while Herr Falck discussed the news with some one -behind the counter, and admired the pictures so temptingly displayed. - -“Look here, Sigrid!” he exclaimed. “Did you ever see a prettier little -water-color than that? Bergen in winter, from the harbor. What is the -price of it? A hundred kroner? I must really have it. It shall be a -present to you in memory of our walk.” - -Sigrid was delighted with the picture, and Herr Falck himself seemed as -pleased with it as a child with a new toy. They talked away together, -planning where it should hang at home and saying how it was just the -sort of thing Frithiof would like. - -“It is quite a pity he did not see it when he was away in Germany, he -would have liked to have it when he was suffering from _Heimweh_,” said -Sigrid. - -“Well, all that sort of thing is over for him, I hope,” said Herr Falck. -“No need that he should be away from Bergen any more, except now and -then for a holiday. And if ever you marry a foreigner, Sigrid, you will -be able to take Bergen with you as a consolation.” - -They made their way up to a little wooded hill above the fortress, which -commanded a wide and beautiful view. - -“Ah!” cried Herr Falck. “Look there, Sigrid! Look, look! there is surely -a vessel coming.” - -She gazed out seaward. - -“You have better eyes than I have, father. Whereabouts? Oh! yes, now I -see, ever so far away. Do you think it is one of yours?” - -“I can’t tell yet,” said Herr Falck; and glancing at him she saw that he -was in an agony of impatience, and that the old troubled look had come -back to his face. - -Again the nameless fear which had seized her in the summer took -possession of her. She would not bother him with questions, but waited -silently beside him, wondering why he was so unusually excited, wishing -that she understood business matters, longing for Frithiof, who would -perhaps have known all about it and could have reassured her. - -“Yes, yes,” cried Herr Falck at length, “I am almost sure it is one of -our Öifjord vessels. Yes! I am certain it is the ‘Solid.’ Now the great -question is this—is she loaded or only ballasted?” - -The fresh, strong wind kept blowing Sigrid’s fringe about distractingly; -sheltering her eyes with her hand, she looked again eagerly at the -approaching vessel. - -“I think she is rather low in the water, father, don’t you?” - -“I hope so—I hope so,” said Herr Falck, and he took off his spectacles -and began to wipe the dim glasses with fingers that trembled visibly. - -The ship was drawing nearer and nearer, and every moment Sigrid realized -more that it was not as she had first hoped. Undoubtedly the vessel was -high in the water. She glanced apprehensively at her father. - -“I can’t bear this any longer, Sigrid,” he exclaimed. “We will go down -to Tydskebryggen, and take a boat and row out to her.” - -They hurried away, speaking never a word. Sigrid feared that her father -would send her home, thinking it would be cold for her on the water, but -he allowed her to get into the little boat in silence, perhaps scarcely -realizing her presence, too much taken up with his great anxiety to -think of anything else. As they threaded their way through the busy -harbor, she began to feel a little more cheerful. Perhaps, after all, -the matter was not so serious. The sun shone brightly on the sparkling -water; the sailors and laborers on the vessels and the quays shouted and -talked at their work; on a steamer, which they passed, one of the men -was cleaning the brass-work and singing blithely the familiar tune of -“Sönner av Norge.” - -“We must hope for the best,” said Herr Falck, perhaps also feeling the -influence of the cheerful tune. - -Just as they neared the “Solid” the anchor dropped. - -“You had better wait here,” said Heir Falck, “while I go on board. I’ll -not keep you long, dear.” - -Nevertheless, anxious waiting always does seem long, and Sigrid, spite -of her sealskin jacket, shivered as she sat in the little boat. It was -not so much the cold that made her shiver, as that horrible nameless -dread, that anxiety which weighed so much more heavily because she did -not fully understand it. - -When her father rejoined her, her worst fears were realized. He neither -looked at her nor spoke to her, but, just giving a word of direction to -the boatman, sat down in his place with folded arms and bent head. She -knew instantly that some terrible disaster must have happened, but she -did not dare to ask what it was; she just sat still listening to the -monotonous stroke of the oars, and with an uneasy wonder in her mind as -to what would happen next. They were nearing the shore, and at last her -father spoke. - -“Pay the man, Sigrid,” he said, and with an unsteady hand he gave her -his purse. He got out of the boat first and she fancied she saw him -stagger, but the next moment he recovered himself and turned to help -her. They walked away together in the direction of the office. - -“You must not be too anxious, dear child,” he said. “I will explain all -to you this evening. I have had a heavy loss.” - -“But, little father, you look so ill,” pleaded Sigrid. “Must you indeed -go to the office? Why not come home and rest?” - -“Rest!” said Herr Falck dreamily. “Rest? No, not just yet—not just yet. -Send the carriage for me this afternoon, and say nothing about it to any -one—I’ll explain it to you later on.” - -So the father and daughter parted, and Sigrid went home to bear as best -she could her day of suspense. Herr Falck returned later on, looking -very ill, and complaining of headache. She persuaded him to lie down in -his study, and would not ask him the question which was trembling on her -lips. But in the evening he spoke to her. - -“You are a good child, Sigrid, a good child,” he said, caressing her -hand. “And now you must hear all, though I would give much to keep it -from you. The Iceland expedition has failed, dear; the vessels have come -back empty.” - -“Does it mean such a very great loss to you, father?” she asked. - -“I will explain to you,” he said, more eagerly; “I should like you to -understand how it has come about. For some time trade has been very bad; -and last year and the year before I had some heavy losses connected with -the Lofoten part of the business.” - -He seemed to take almost a pleasure in giving her all sorts of details -which she could not half-understand; she heard in a confused way of the -three steamers sent to Nordland in the summer with empty barrels and -salt for the herrings; she heard about buying at the Bourse of Bergen -large quantities, so that Herr Falck had ten thousand barrels at a time, -and had been obliged to realize them at ruinous prices. - -“You do not understand all this, my Sigrid,” he said, smiling at her -puzzled face. “Well, I’ll tell you the rest more simply. Things were -looking as bad as possible, and when in the summer I heard that -Haugesund had caught thousands of barrels of herrings in the fjords of -Iceland, I made up my mind to try the same plan, and to stake all on -that last throw. I chartered sailing vessels, hired hands, bought nets, -and the expedition set off—I knew that if it came back with full barrels -I should be a rich man, and that if it failed, there was no help for -it—my business must go to pieces.” - -Sigrid gave a little cry. “You will be bankrupt?” she exclaimed. “Oh, -surely not that, father—not that!” - -She remembered all too vividly the bankruptcy of a well-known timber -merchant some years before; she knew that he had raised money by -borrowing on the Bank of Norway and on the Savings Bank of Bergen, and -she knew that it was the custom of the land that the banks, avoiding -risk in that way, demanded two sureties for the loan, and that the -failure of a large firm caused distress far and wide to an extent hardly -conceivable to foreigners. - -“There is yet one hope,” said Herr Falck. “If the rumor I heard in the -summer is false, and if I can still keep the connection with Morgans, -that guarantees me seven thousand two hundred kroner a year, and in that -case I have no doubt we could avoid open bankruptcy.” - -“But how?” said Sigrid. “I don’t understand.” - -“The Morgans would never keep me as their agent if I were declared a -bankrupt, and, to avoid that, I think my creditors would accept as -payment the outcome of all my property, and would give me what we call -voluntary agreement; it is a form of winding up a failing concern which -is very often employed. They would be the gainers in the long run, -because of course they would not allow me to keep my seven thousand two -hundred kroner untouched, so in any case, my child, I have brought you -to poverty.” - -He covered his face with his hands. Sigrid noticed that the veins about -his temples stood out like blue cords, so much were they enlarged. - -She put her arm about him, kissing his hair, his hands, his forehead. - -“I do not mind poverty, little father. I mind only that you are so -troubled,” she said. “And surely, surely they will not take the agency -from you after all these years! Oh, poverty will be nothing, if only we -can keep from disgrace—if only others need not be dragged down too!” - -They were interrupted by a tap at the door, and Swanhild stole in, -making the pretty little courtesy without which no well-bred Norwegian -child enters or leaves a room. - -“Mayn’t I come and say good-night to you, little father?” she asked. “I -got on ever so well at school, just as you said, after our merry -breakfast.” - -The sight of the child’s unconscious happiness was more than he could -endure; he closed his eyes that she might not see the scalding tears -which filled them. - -“How dreadfully ill father looks,” said Swanhild uneasily. - -“His head is very bad,” said Sigrid. “Kiss him, dear, and then run to -bed.” - -But Herr Falck roused himself. - -“I too will go up,” he said. “Bed is the best place, eh, Swanhild? God -bless you, little one; good-night. What, are you going to be my -walking-stick?” - -And thus, steadying himself by the child, he went up to his room. - -At breakfast the next morning he was in his place as usual, but he -seemed very poorly, and afterward made no suggestion as to going down to -the office, but lay on the sofa in his study, drowsily watching the -flames in his favorite English fireplace. Sigrid went about the house -busy with her usual duties, and for the time so much absorbed that she -almost forgot the great trouble hanging over them. About eleven o’clock -there was a ring at the door-bell; the servant brought in a telegram for -Herr Falck. A sort of wild hope seized her that it might be from -Frithiof. If anything could cheer her father on that day it would be to -hear that all was happily settled, and, taking it from the maid, she -bore it herself into her father’s room. He rose from the sofa as she -entered. - -“I am better, Sigrid,” he said. “I think I could go to the office. Ah! a -telegram for me?” - -“It has come this minute,” she said, watching him as he sat down before -his desk, adjusted his spectacles, and tore open the envelope. If only -Frithiof could send news that would cheer him! If only some little ray -of brightness would come to lighten that dark day! She had so persuaded -herself that the message must be from Frithiof that the thought of the -business anxieties had become for the time quite subservient. The -telegram was a long one. - -“How extravagant that boy is!” she thought to herself. “Why, it would -have been enough if he had just put ‘All right.’” - -Then a sudden cry broke from her, for her father had bowed his head on -his desk like a man who is overwhelmed. - -“Father, father!” she cried, “oh! what is the matter?” - -For a minute or two neither spoke nor moved. At last, with an effort, he -raised himself. He looked up at her with a face of fixed despair, with -eyes whose anguish wrung her heart. - -“Sigrid,” he said, in a voice unlike his own, “they have taken the -agency from me. I am bankrupt!” - -She put her hand in his, too much stunned to speak. - -“Poor children!” he moaned. “Ah! my God! my God! Why—?” - -The sentence was never ended. He fell heavily forward: whether he was -dead or only fainting she could not tell. - -She rushed to the door calling for help, and the servants came hurrying -to the study. They helped to move their master to the sofa, and Sigrid -found a sort of comfort in the assurances of her old nurse that it was -nothing but a paralytic seizure, that he would soon revive. The good old -soul knew nothing, nor was she so hopeful as she seemed, but her words -helped Sigrid to keep up; she believed them in the unreasoning sort of -way in which those in trouble always do catch at the slightest hope held -out to them. - -“I will send Olga for the doctor,” she said breathlessly. - -“Ay, and for your uncle, too,” said the nurse. “He’s your own mother’s -brother, and ought to be here.” - -“Perhaps,” said Sigrid hesitatingly. “Yes, Olga, go to Herr Grönvold’s -house and just tell them of my father’s illness. But first for the -doctor—as quick as you can.” - -There followed a miserable time of waiting and suspense. Herr Falck was -still perfectly unconscious; there were signs of shock about his face, -which was pale and rigid, the eyelids closed, the head turned to one -side. Sigrid took his cold hand in hers, and sat with her fingers on the -pulse; she could just feel it, but it was very feeble and very rapid. -Thus they waited till the doctor came. He was an old friend, and Sigrid -felt almost at rest when she had told him all he wanted to know as to -the beginning of the attack and the cause. - -“You had better send for your brother at once,” he said. “I suppose he -will be at the office?” - -“Oh, no!” she said, trembling. “Frithiof is in England. But we will -telegraph to him to come home.” - -“My poor child,” said the old doctor kindly, “if he is in England it -would be of no possible use; he would not be in time.” - -She covered her face with her hands, for the first time utterly breaking -down. - -“Oh! is there no hope?” she sobbed. “No hope at all?” - -“Remember how much he is spared,” said the doctor gently. “He will not -suffer. He will not suffer at all any more.” - -And so it proved; for while many went and came, and while the bad news -of the bankruptcy caused Herr Grönvold to pace the room like one -distracted, and while Sigrid and Swanhild kept their sad watch, Herr -Falck lay in painless quiet—his face so calm that, had it not been for -an occasional tremor passing through the paralyzed limbs, they would -almost have thought he was already dead. - -The hours passed on. At length little Swanhild, who had crouched down on -the floor with her head in Sigrid’s lap, became conscious of a sort of -stir in the room. She looked up and saw that the doctor was bending over -her father. - -“It is over,” he said, in a hushed voice as he stood up and glanced -toward the two girls. - -And Swanhild, who had never seen any one die, but had read in books of -death struggles and death agonies, was filled with a great wonder. - -“It was so quiet,” she said, afterward to her sister. “I never knew -people died like that; I don’t think I shall ever feel afraid about -dying again. But oh, Sigrid!” and the child broke into a passion of -tears, “we have got to go on living all alone—all alone!” - -Sigrid’s breast heaved. Alas! the poor child little knew all the -troubles that were before them; as far as possible she must try to -shield her from the knowledge. - -“We three must love each other very much, darling,” she said, folding -her arms about Swanhild. “We must try and be everything to each other.” - -The words made her think of Frithiof, and with a sick longing for his -presence she went downstairs again to speak to her uncle, and to arrange -as to how the news should be sent to England. Herr Grönvold had never -quite appreciated his brother-in-law, and this had always made a barrier -between him and his nephew and nieces. He was the only relation, -however, to whom Sigrid could turn, and she knew that he was her -father’s executor, and must be consulted about all the arrangements. Had -not she and Frithiof celebrated their twenty-first birthday just a week -ago, Herr Grönvold would have been their guardian, and naturally he -would still expect to have the chief voice in the family counsels. - -She found him in the sitting-room. He was still pale and agitated. She -knew only too well that although he would not say a word against her -dead father, yet in his heart he would always blame him, and that the -family disgrace would be more keenly felt by him than by any one. The -sight of him entirely checked her tears; she sat down and began to talk -to him quite calmly. All her feeling of youth and helplessness was gone -now—she felt old, strangely old; her voice sounded like the voice of -some one else—it seemed to have grown cold and hard. - -“What must we do about telling Frithiof, uncle?” she said. - -“I have thought of that,” said Herr Grönvold. “It is impossible that he -could be back in time for the funeral. This is Tuesday afternoon, and he -could not catch this week’s steamer, which leaves Hull at nine o’clock -to-night. The only thing is to telegraph the news to him, poor boy. His -best chance now is to stay in England and try to find some opening -there, for he has no chance here at all.” - -Sigrid caught her breath. - -“You mean that he had better not even come back?” - -“Indeed, I think England is the only hope for him,” said Herr Grönvold, -perhaps hardly understanding what a terrible blow he was giving to his -niece. “He is absolutely penniless, and over here the feeling will be so -strong against the very name of Falck that he would never work his way -up. I will gladly provide for you and Swanhild until he is able to make -a home for you; but he must stay in England, there is no help for that.” - -She could not dispute the point any further; her uncle’s words had shown -her only too plainly the true meaning of the word “bankrupt.” Why, the -very chair she was sitting on was no longer her own! A chill passed over -her as she glanced round the familiar room. On the writing-table she -noticed her housekeeping books, and realized that there was no longer -any money to pay them with; on the bookshelf stood the clock presented a -year or two ago to her father by the clerks in his office—that too must -be parted with; everything most sacred, most dear to her, everything -associated with her happy childhood and youth must be swept away in the -vain endeavor to satisfy the just claims of her father’s creditors. In a -sort of dreadful dream she sat watching her uncle as he wrote the -message to Frithiof, hesitating long over the wording of the sad -tidings, and ever and anon counting the words carefully with his pen. It -would cost a good deal, that telegram to England. Sigrid knew that her -uncle would pay for it, and the knowledge kept her lips sealed. It was -absurd to long so to send love and sympathy at the rate of thirty öre a -word! Why, in the whole world she had not so much as a ten-öre piece! -Her personal possessions might, perhaps, legally belong to her, but she -knew that there was something within her which would utterly prevent her -being able to consider them her own. Everything must go toward those who -would suffer from her father’s failure; and Frithiof would feel just as -she did about the matter, of that she was certain. - -“There, poor fellow,” said Herr Grönvold, “that will give him just the -facts of the case: and you must write to him, Sigrid, and I, too, will -write by the next mail.” - -“I am afraid he cannot get a letter till next Monday,” said Sigrid. - -“No, there is no help for that,” said Herr Grönvold. “I shall do all -that can be done with regard to the business; that he will know quite -well, and his return later on would be a mere waste of time and money. -He must seek work in London without delay, and I have told him so. Do -you think this is clear?” - -He handed her the message he had written, and she read it through, -though each word was like a stab. - -“Quite clear,” she said, returning it to him. - -Her voice was so tired and worn that it attracted his notice for the -first time. - -“My dear,” he said kindly, “it has been a terrible day for you; you had -better go to bed and rest. Leave everything to me. I promise you all -shall be attended to.” - -“You are very kind,” she said, yet with all the time a terrible craving -for something more than this sort of kindness, for something which was -perhaps beyond Herr Grönvold’s power to give. - -“Would you like your aunt or one of your cousins to spend the night -here?” he asked. - -“No,” she said; “I am better alone. They will come to-morrow. I—I will -rest now.” - -“Very well. Good-by, then, my dear. I will send off the telegram at -once.” - -She heard the door close behind him with a sense of relief, yet before -many minutes had passed, the dreadful quiet of the house seemed almost -more than she could endure. - -“Oh, Frithiof, Frithiof! why did you ever go to England?” she moaned. - -And as she sat crouched together in one of the deep easy-chairs, it -seemed to her that the physical faintness, the feeling that everything -was sliding away from her, was but the shadow of the bitter reality. She -was roused by the opening of the door. Her old nurse stole in. - -“See here, Sigrid,” said the old woman. “The pastor has come. You will -see him in here?” - -“I don’t think I can,” she said wearily. - -“He is in the dining-room talking to Swanhild,” said the nurse: “you had -better just see him a minute.” - -But still Sigrid did not stir. It was only when little Swanhild stole -in, with her wistful, tear-stained face, that she even tried to rouse -herself. - -“Sigrid,” said the child, “Herr Askevold has been out all day with some -one who was dying; he is very tired and has had no dinner; he says if he -may he will have supper with us.” - -Sigrid at once started to her feet; her mind was for the moment diverted -from her own troubles; it was the thought of the dear old pastor, tired -and hungry, yet coming to them, nevertheless, which touched her heart. -Other friends might perhaps forsake them in their trouble and disgrace, -but not Herr Askevold. Later on, when she thought it over, she knew that -it was for the sake of inducing them to eat, and for the sake of helping -them through that terrible first meal without their father, that he had -come in just then. She only felt the relief of his presence at the time, -was only conscious that she was less desolate because the old -white-haired man, who had baptized her as a baby and confirmed her as a -girl, was sitting with them at the supper-table. His few words of -sympathy as he greeted her had been the first words of comfort which had -reached her heart, and now, as he cut the bread and helped the fish, -there was something in the very smallness and fineness of his -consideration and care for them which filled her with far more gratitude -than Herr Grönvold’s offer of a home. They did not talk very much during -the meal, but little Swanhild ceased to wonder whether it was wrong to -feel so hungry on such a day, and, no longer ashamed of her appetite, -went on naturally and composedly with her supper; while Sigrid, with her -strong Norwegian sense of hospitality, ate for her guest’s sake, and in -thinking of his wants was roused from her state of blank hopelessness. - -Afterward she took him to her father’s room, her tears stealing down -quietly as she looked once more on the calm, peaceful face that would -never again bear the look of strained anxiety which had of late grown so -familiar to her. - -And Herr Askevold knelt by the bedside and prayed. She could never quite -remember in after-days what it was that he said, perhaps she never very -clearly took in the actual words; but something, either in his tone or -manner, brought to her the sense of a presence altogether above all the -changes that had been or ever could be. This new consciousness seemed to -fill her with strength, and a great tenderness for Swanhild came to her -heart; she wondered how it was she could ever have fancied that all had -been taken from her. - -As they rose from their knees and the old pastor took her hand in his to -wish her good-by, he glanced a little anxiously into her eyes. But -something he saw there comforted him. - -“God bless you, my child,” he said. - -And again as they opened the front door to him and he stepped out into -the dark wintry night, he looked back, and said: - -“God comfort you.” - -Sigrid stood on the threshold, behind her the lighted hall, before her -the starless gloom of the outer world, her arm was round little -Swanhild, and as she bade him good-night, she smiled, one of those -brave, patient smiles that are sadder than tears. - -“The light behind her, and the dark before,” said the old pastor to -himself as he walked home wearily enough. “It is like her life, poor -child. And yet I am somehow not much afraid for her. It is for Frithiof -I am afraid.” - - - - - CHAPTER IX. - - -When Frithiof found that instead of addressing a stranger at Hyde Park -Corner, he had actually spoken to Roy Boniface, his first feeling had -been of mere blank astonishment. Then he vehemently wished himself alone -once more, and cursed the fate which had first brought him into contact -with the little child by the Serpentine, and which had now actually -thrown him into the arms of a being who would talk and expect to be -talked to. Yet this feeling also passed; for as he looked down the -unfamiliar roads, and felt once more the desolateness of a foreigner in -a strange country, he was obliged to own that it was pleasant to him to -hear Roy’s well-known voice, and to feel that there was in London a -being who took some sort of interest in his affairs. - -“I wish I had seen you a minute or two sooner; my mother and my sister -were in that carriage,” said Roy, “and they would have liked to meet -you. You must come and see us some day, or are you quite too busy to -spare time for such an out-of-the-way place as Brixton?” - -“Thank you. My plans are very uncertain,” said Frithiof. “I shall -probably only be over here for a few days.” - -“Have you come across the Morgans?” asked Roy, “or any of our other -companions at Balholm?” - -In his heart he felt sure that the young Norwegian’s visit was connected -with Blanche Morgan, for their mutual liking had been common property at -Balholm, and even the semiengagement was shrewdly guessed at by many of -the other tourists. - -Frithiof knew this, and the question was like a sword-thrust to him. Had -it not been so nearly dark Roy could hardly have failed to notice his -change of color and expression. But he had great self-control, and his -voice was quite steady, though a little cold and monotonous in tone, as -he replied: - -“I have just been to call on the Morgans, and have only just learned -that their business relations with our firm are at an end. The -connection is of so many years’ standing that I am afraid it will be a -great blow to my father.” - -Roy began to see daylight, and perceived, what had first escaped his -notice, that some great change had passed over his companion since they -parted on the Sogne Fjord; very possibly the business relations might -affect his hopes, and make the engagement no longer possible. - -“That was bad news to greet you,” he said with an uneasy consciousness -that it was very difficult to know what to say. “Herr Falck would feel a -change of that sort keenly, I should think. What induced them to make -it?” - -“Self-interest,” said Frithiof, still in the same tone. “No doubt they -came to spy out the land in the summer. As the head of the firm remarked -to me just now, it is impossible to sentimentalize over old -connections—business is business, and of course they are bound to look -out for themselves—what happens to us is, naturally, no affair of -theirs.” - -Roy would not have thought much of the sarcasm of this speech if it had -been spoken by any one else, but from the lips of such a fellow as -Frithiof Falck, it startled him. - -They were walking along Piccadilly, each of them turning over in his -mind how he could best get away from the other, yet with an uneasy -feeling that they were in some way linked together by that summer -holiday, and that if they parted now they would speedily regret it. Roy, -with the increasing consciousness of his companion’s trouble only grew -more perplexed and ill at ease. He tried to picture to himself the -workings of the Norwegian’s mind, and as they walked on in silence some -faint idea of the effect of the surroundings upon the new-comer began to -dawn upon him. What a contrast was all this to quiet Norway! The -brightly lighted shops, the busy streets, the hurry and bustle, the -ever-changing crowd of strange faces. - -“Do you know many people in London?” he asked, willing to shift his -responsibility if possible. - -“No,” said Frithiof, “I do not know a soul.” - -He relapsed into silence. Roy’s thoughts went back to his first day at -Bergen; he seemed to live it all through once more; he remembered how -Frithiof Falck had got the Linnæa for them, how he had taken them for -shelter to his father’s house; the simplicity and the happiness of the -scene came back to him vividly, and he glanced at his companion as -though to verify his past impressions. The light from a street lamp fell -on Frithiof at that moment, and Roy started; the Norwegian had perhaps -forgotten that he was not alone, at any rate he wore an expression which -had not hitherto been visible. There was something about his pale, set -face which alarmed Roy, and scattered to the winds all his selfishness -and awkward shyness. - -“Then you will of course dine with me,” he said, “since you have no -other engagement.” - -And Frithiof, still wishing to be alone, and yet still dreading it, -thanked him and accepted the invitation. - -The ice once broken, they got on rather better, and as they dined -together Roy carefully abstained from talking of the days at Balholm, -but asked after Sigrid and Swanhild and Herr Falck, talked of the winter -in Norway, of skating, of Norwegian politics, of everything he could -think of which could divert his friend’s mind from the Morgans. - -“What next,” he said, as they found themselves once more in the street. -“Since you go back soon we ought to make the most of the time. Shall we -come to the Savoy? You must certainly hear a Gilbert and Sullivan opera -before you leave.” - -“I am not in the mood for it to-night,” said Frithiof. “And it has just -struck me that possibly my father may telegraph instructions to me—he -would have got Morgan’s telegram this morning. I will go back to the -Arundel and see.” - -This idea seemed to rouse him. He became much more like himself, and as -they walked down the Strand the conversation dragged much less. For the -first time he spoke of the work that awaited him on his return to -Bergen, and Roy began to think that his scheme for diverting him from -his troubles had been on the whole a success. - -“We must arrange what day you will come down to us at Brixton,” he said, -as they turned down Arundel Street. “Would to-morrow suit you?” - -“As far as I know, it would,” said Frithiof; “but if you will just come -into the hotel with me we will find out if there is any message from my -father. If there is nothing, why, I am perfectly free. It is possible, -though, that he will have business for me to see to.” - -Accordingly they went into the hotel together, and Frithiof accosted a -waiter in the entrance hall. - -“Anything come for me since I went out?” he asked. - -“Yes, sir, I believe there is, sir. Herr Falck, is it not?” - -He brought forward a telegram and handed it to Frithiof, who hurriedly -tore open the orange envelope and began eagerly to read. As he read, -every shade of color left his face; the telegram was in Norwegian, and -its terse, matter of-fact statement overwhelmed him. Like one in some -dreadful dream he read the words: - - -“Father bankrupt, owing to failure Iceland expedition, also loss -Morgan’s agency.” - - -There was more beyond, but this so staggered him that he looked up from -the fatal pink paper with a sort of wild hope that his surroundings -would reassure him, that he should find it all a mistake. He met the -curious eyes of the waiter, he saw two girls in evening-dress crossing -the vestibule. - -“We ought to be at the Lyceum by this time!” he heard one of them say to -the other. “How annoying of father to be so late!” - -The girl addressed had a sweet sunshiny face. - -“Oh, he will soon be here,” she said, smiling, but as her eyes happened -to fall on Frithiof she grew suddenly grave and compassionate; she -seemed to glance from his face to the telegram in his hand, and her look -brought him a horrible perception that after all this was real waking -existence. It was a real telegram he held, it was all true, hideously -true. His father was bankrupt. - -Shame, misery, bitter indignation with the Morgans, a sickening -perception that if Blanche had been true to him the worst might have -been averted, all this seethed in his mind. With a desperate effort he -steadied his hand and again bent his eye on the pink paper and the large -round-hand scrawl. Oh, yes, there was no mistake, he read the fatal -words again: - - -“Father bankrupt, owing to failure Iceland expedition, also loss -Morgan’s agency.” - - -By this time he had partly recovered, was sufficiently himself again to -feel some sort of anxiety to read the rest of the message. Possibly -there was something he might do to help his father. He read on and took -in the next sentence almost at a glance. - - -“Shock caused cerebral hemorrhage. He died this afternoon.” - - -Frithiof felt a choking sensation in his throat; if he could not get out -into the open air he felt that he should die, and by an instinct he -turned toward the door, made a step or two forward, then staggered and -caught at Roy Boniface to save himself from falling. - -Roy held him up and looked at him anxiously. “You have had bad news?” he -asked. - -Frithiof tried to speak, but no words would come; he gasped for breath, -felt his limbs failing, saw a wavy, confused picture of the vestibule, -the waiter, the two girls, an elderly gentleman joining them, then felt -himself guided down on to the floor, never quite losing consciousness, -yet helpless either to speak or move and with a most confused sense of -what had passed. - -“It is in Norwegian,” he heard Roy say. “Bad news from his home, I am -afraid.” - -“Poor fellow!” said another voice. “Open the door some one. It’s air he -wants.” - -“I saw there was something wrong, father,” this was in a girl’s voice. -“He looked quite dazed with trouble as he read.” - -“You’ll be late for the Lyceum,” thought Frithiof, and making an effort -to get up, he sunk for a moment into deeper depths of faintness; the -voices died away into indistinctness, then came a consciousness of hands -at his shoulders and his feet; he was lifted up and carried away -somewhere. - -Struggling back to life again in a few moments, he found that he was -lying on a bed, the window was wide open, and a single candle flickered -wildly in the draught. Roy Boniface was standing by him holding a glass -of water to his lips. With an effort he drank. - -“You are better, sir?” asked the waiter. “Anything I can do for you, -sir? Any answer to the telegram?” - -“The telegram! What do you mean?” exclaimed Frithiof. Then as full -recollection came back to him, he turned his face from the light with a -groan. - -“The gentleman had, perhaps, better see a doctor,” suggested the waiter -to Roy. But Frithiof turned upon him sharply. - -“I am better. You can go away. All I want is to be alone.” - -The man retired, but Roy still lingered. He could not make up his mind -to leave any one in such a plight, so he crossed the room and stood by -the open window looking out gravely at the dark river with its double -row of lights and their long shining reflections. Presently a sound in -the room made him turn. Frithiof had dragged himself up to his feet, -with an impatient gesture he blew out the flickering candle, then walked -with unsteady steps to the window and dropped into a chair. - -“So you are here still?” he said, with something of relief in his tone. - -“I couldn’t bear to leave till you were all right again,” said Roy. -“Wont you tell me what is the matter, Falck?” - -“My father is dead,” said Frithiof, in an unnaturally calm voice. - -“Dead!” exclaimed Roy, and his tone had in it much more of awe and -regret. He could hardly believe that the genial, kindly Norwegian who -had climbed Munkeggen with them only a few weeks before was actually no -longer in the world. - -“He is dead,” repeated Frithiof quietly. - -“But how was it?” asked Roy. “It must have been so sudden. You left him -well only three days ago. How was it?” - -“His Iceland expedition had failed,” said Frithiof; “that meant a fatal -blow to his business; then, this morning, there came to him Morgan’s -telegram about the agency. It was that that killed him.” - -“Good God!” exclaimed Roy, with indignation in his voice. - -“Leave out the adjective,” said Frithiof bitterly. “If there’s a God at -all He is hard and merciless. Business is business, you see—one can’t -sentimentalize over old connections. God allows men like Morgan to -succeed, they always do succeed, and He lets men like my father be -dragged down into shame and dishonor and ruin.” - -Roy was silent; he had no glib, conventional sentences ready to hand. In -his own mind he frankly admitted that the problem was beyond him. He -knew quite well that far too often in business life it was the pushing, -unscrupulous, selfish man who made his fortune, and the man of Herr -Falck’s type, sensitive, conscientious, altogether honorable, who had to -content himself with small means, or who, goaded at last to rashness, -staked all on a desperate last throw and failed. It was a problem that -perplexed him every day of his life, the old, old problem which Job -dashed his heart against, and for which only Job’s answer will suffice. -Vaguely he felt that there must be some other standard of success than -that of the world; he believed that it was but the first act of the -drama which we could at present see; but he honestly owned that the -first act was often perplexing enough. - -Nevertheless, it was his very silence which attracted Frithiof; had he -spoken, had he argued, had he put forth the usual platitudes, the two -would have been forever separated. But he just leaned against the -window-frame, looking out at the dark river, musing over the story he -had just heard, and wondering what the meaning of it could be. The -“Why?” which had been the last broken ejaculation of the dead man echoed -in the hearts of these two who had been brought together so strangely. -Into Roy’s mind there came the line, “’Tis held that sorrow makes us -wise.” But he had a strong feeling that in Frithiof’s case sorrow would -harden and imbitter; indeed, it seemed to him already that his -companion’s whole nature was changed. It was almost difficult to believe -that he was the same high-spirited boy who had been the life of the -party at Balholm, who had done the honors of the villa in Kalvedalen so -pleasantly. And then as he contrasted that bright, homely room at Bergen -with this dark, forlorn hotel room in London, a feeling that he must get -his companion away into some less dreary atmosphere took possession of -him. - -“Don’t stay all alone in this place,” he said abruptly. “Come home with -me to-night.” - -“You are very good,” said Frithiof, “but I don’t think I can do that. I -am better alone, and indeed must make up my mind to-night as to the -future.” - -“You will go back to Norway, I suppose?” asked Roy. - -“Yes, I suppose so; as soon as possible. To-morrow I must see if there -is any possibility of getting back in fair time. Unluckily, it is too -late for the Wilson Line steamer, which must be starting at this minute -from Hull.” - -“I will come in to-morrow, then, and see what you have decided on,” said -Roy. “Is there nothing I can do for you now?” - -“Nothing, thank you,” said Frithiof. And Roy, feeling that he could be -of no more use, and that his presence was perhaps a strain on his -friend, wished him good-night and went out. - -The next day he was detained by business and could not manage to call at -the Arundel till late in the afternoon. Noticing the same waiter in the -hall who had been present on the previous evening, he inquired if -Frithiof were in. - -“Herr Falck has gone, sir,” said the man; “he went off about an hour -ago.” - -“Gone!” exclaimed Roy, in some surprise. “Did he leave any message?” - -“No, sir; none at all. He was looking very ill when he came down this -morning, but went out as soon as he had had breakfast, and didn’t come -back till four o’clock. Then he called for his bill and ordered his -portmanteau to be brought down and put on a hansom, and as he passed out -he gave me a trifle, and said he had spoken a bit sharp to me last -night, he was afraid, and thanked me for what I had done for him. And so -he drove off, sir.” - -“You didn’t hear where he was going to?” - -“No, sir; I can’t say as I did. The cab, if I remember right, turned -along the Embankment, toward Charing Cross.” - -“Thank you,” said Roy. “Very possibly he may have gone back to Norway by -the Continent.” - -And with a feeling of vague disappointment he turned away. - - - - - CHAPTER X. - - -When Roy Boniface had gone Frithiof sat for a long time without -stirring. He had longed to be alone, and yet the moment he had got his -wish the most crushing sense of desolation overwhelmed him. He, too, was -keenly conscious of that change in his own nature which had been quite -apparent to Roy. It seemed to him that everything had been taken from -him in one blow—love, hope, his father, his home, his stainless name, -his occupation, his fortune, and even his old self. It was an entirely -different character with which he now had to reckon, and an entirely new -life which he had to live. Both character and surroundings had been -suddenly changed very much for the worse. He had got to put up with -them, and somehow to endure life. That was the only thing clear to him. -The little child by the Serpentine had given him so much -standing-ground, but he had not an inch more at present; all around him -was a miserable, cheerless, gray mist. Presently, becoming aware that -the cold wind from the river was no longer reviving him but chilling him -to the bone, he roused himself to close the window. Mechanically he drew -down the blind, struck a light, and noticing that on the disordered bed -there lay the crumpled pink paper which had brought him the bad news, he -picked it up, smoothed it out, and read it once more. - -There was still something which he had not seen in the first horrible -shock of realizing his father’s death. With darkening brow he read the -words which Herr Grönvold had weighed so carefully and counted so often. - -“I will provide for your sisters till you can. Impossible for you to -return in time for funeral. My advice is try for work in London. No -opening here for you, as feeling will be strong against family.” - -It was only then that he actually took in the fact that he was -penniless—indeed, far worse than penniless—weighed down by a load of -debts which, if not legally his, were his burden none the less. There -were, as he well knew, many who failed with a light heart, who were -bankrupt one week and starting afresh with perfect unconcern the next, -but he was too much his father’s son to take the disaster that way. The -disgrace and the perception of being to blame which had killed Herr -Falck now fell upon him with crushing force; he paced the room like one -distracted, always with the picture before him of what was now going on -in Bergen, always with the thought of the suffering and misery which -would result from the failure of a firm so old and so much respected as -his father’s. - -And yet it was out of this very torture of realization that his comfort -at last sprung—such comfort at least as he was at present capable of -receiving. We must all have some sort of future to look to, some sort of -aim before us, or life would be intolerable. The veriest beggar in the -street concentrates his thought on the money to be made, or the shelter -to be gained for the coming night. And there came, fortunately, to -Frithiof, jilted, ruined, bereaved as he was, one strong desire—one firm -resolve. He would pay off his father’s debts to the last farthing; he -would work, he would slave, he would deny himself all but the bare -necessities of life. The name of Falck should yet be redeemed; and a -glow of returning hope rose in his heart as he remembered his father’s -parting words, “I look to you, Frithiof, to carry out the aims in which -I myself have failed, to live the life I could wish to have lived.” Yet -how different all had been when those words had been spoken! The -recollection of them did him good—brought him, as it were, back to life -again—but at the same time they were the most cruel pain. - -He saw again the harbor at Bergen, the ships, the mountains, the busy -quay; he saw his father so vividly that it seemed to him as if he must -actually be before him at that very moment, the tone of his voice rang -in his ears, the pressure of his hand seemed yet to linger with him. - -What wonder that it should still be so fresh in his memory? It was only -three days ago. Only three days! Yet the time to look back on now seemed -more like three years. With amazement he dwelt on the fact, thinking, as -we mostly do in sudden trouble, how little time it takes for things to -happen. It is a perception that does not come to us in the full swing of -life, when all seems safe and full of bright promise, any more than in -yachting it troubles us to reflect that there is only a plank between -ourselves and the unfathomed depths of the sea. We expect all to go -well, we feel no fear, we enjoy life easily, and when disaster comes its -rude haste astounds us—so much is changed in one sudden, crushing blow. - -He remembered how he had whistled the “Bridal Song of the Hardanger,” as -he cheerfully paced the deck full of thoughts of Blanche and of the -bright future that was opening before him. The tune rang in his ears now -with a mournful persistence. He buried his face in his hands, letting -the flood of grief sweep over him, opposing to it no thought of comfort, -no recollection of what was still left to him. If Blanche had been -faithful to him all might have been different; her father would never -have taken away the agency if she had told him the truth when she first -got home; the Iceland expedition might have failed, but his father could -have got voluntary agreement with his creditors, he himself might -perhaps have been put at the head of the branch at Stavanger, all would -have been well. - -In bitter contrast he called up a picture of the desolate house in -Kalvedalen, thought of Herr Grönvold making the final arrangements, and -alternately pitying and blaming his brother-in-law; thought of Sigrid -and Swanhild in their sorrow and loneliness; thought of his father lying -cold and still. Choking sobs rose in his throat as more and more clearly -he realized that all was indeed over, that he should never see his -father again. But his eyes were dry and tearless, the iron had entered -into his soul, and all the relief that was then possible for him lay in -a prompt endeavor to carry out the resolve which he had just made. - -Perhaps he perceived this, for he raised himself, banished the mind -pictures which had absorbed him so long, and began to think what his -first practical step must be. He would lose no time, he would begin that -very moment. The first thing must of course be retrenchment; he must -leave the Arundel on the morrow and must seek out the cheapest rooms to -be had. Lying on the table was that invaluable book “Dickens’ Dictionary -of London.” He had bought it at Hull on the previous day, and had -already got out of it much amusement and much information. Now, in grim -earnest, he turned over its well-arranged pages till he came to the -heading “Lodgings,” running his eye hurriedly over the paragraph, and -pausing over the following sentence: “Those who desire still cheaper -accommodation must go further afield, the lowest priced of all being in -the northeast and southeast districts, in either of which a bed and -sitting-room may be had at rents varying from ten shillings, and even -less, to thirty shillings.” - -He turned to the maps at the beginning, and decided to try the -neighborhood of Vauxhall and Lambeth. - -Next came the question of work. And here the vastness of the field -perplexed him, where to turn he had not the slightest idea. Possibly -Dickens might suggest something. He turned over the pages, and his eye -happened to light on the words, “Americans in distress, Society for the -relief of.” He scanned the columns closely, there seemed to be help for -every one on earth except a Norwegian. There was a home for French -strangers; a Hungarian aid society; an Italian benevolent; sixteen -charities for Jews; an association of Poles; a Hibernian society; a -Netherlands benevolent; a Portuguese and Spanish aid; and a society for -distressed Belgians. The only chance for him lay in the “Universal -Beneficence Society,” a title which called up a bitter smile to his -lips, or the “Society of Friends of Foreigners in Distress.” - -He made up his mind to leave these as a last resource, and turning to -the heading of Sweden and Norway looked out the address of the -consulate. He must go there the first thing the next day, and get what -advice and help he could. There was also in Fleet Street a Scandinavian -club; he would go there and get a list of the members; it was possible -that he might meet with some familiar name, and at any rate he should -hear his own language spoken, which in itself would be a relief. This -arranged, he tried to sleep, but with little success; his brain was too -much overwrought with the terrible reversals of fortune he had met with -that day, with the sorrows that had come to him, not as - - “Single spies, - But in battalions!” - -Whenever he did for a few minutes sink into a doze, it was only to be -haunted by the most horrible dreams, and when morning came he was ill -and feverish, yet as determined as before to go through with the -programme he had marked out. - -The Swedish minister received him very kindly, and listened to as much -of his story as would bear telling, with great patience. “It is a very -hard case,” he said. “The English firm perhaps consulted their own -pockets in making this new arrangement, but to break off an old -connection so suddenly, and as it chanced at such a trying moment, was -hard lines. What sort of people are they, these Morgans? You have met -them?” - -“Oh, yes,” said Frithiof, coloring. “One of the brothers was in Norway -this summer, came to our house, dined with us, professed the greatest -friendliness, while all the time he must have known what the firm was -meditating.” - -“Doubtless came to see how the land lay,” said the minister. “And what -of the other brother?” - -“I saw him yesterday,” replied Frithiof. “He was very civil; told me the -telegram had been sent off that morning about the affair, as it would -not bear delay, and spoke very highly of my father. Words cost nothing, -you see.” - -The consul noted the extreme bitterness of the tone, and looked -searchingly into the face of his visitor. “Poor fellow!” he reflected; -“he starts in life with a grievance, and there is nothing so bad for a -man as that. A fine, handsome boy, too. If he stays eating his heart out -in London he will go to the dogs in no time.” - -“See,” he said, “these Morgans, though they may be keen business men, -yet they are after all human. When they learn at what an unlucky time -their telegram arrived, it is but natural that they should regret it. -Their impulse will be to help you. I should advise you to go to them at -once and talk the affair over with them. If they have any proper feeling -they will offer you some sort of employment in this new Stavanger -branch, or they might, perhaps, have some opening for you in their -London house.” - -“I can not go to them,” said Frithiof, in a choked voice. “I would -rather die first.” - -“I can understand,” said the consul, “that you feel very bitter, and -that you resent the way in which they have behaved. But still I think -you should try to get over that. After all, they knew nothing of your -father’s affairs; they did not intentionally kill him. That the two -disasters followed so closely on each other was but an accident.” - -“Still I could never accept anything from them; it is out of the -question,” said Frithiof. - -“Excuse me if I speak plainly,” said the consul. “You are very young, -and you know but little of the world. If you allow yourself to be -governed by pride of this sort you can not hope to get on. Now turn it -over in your mind, and if you do not feel that you can see these people, -at any rate write to them.” - -“I cannot explain it all to you, sir,” said Frithiof. “But there are -private reasons which make that altogether impossible.” - -The blood had mounted to his forehead, his lips had closed in a straight -line; perhaps it was because they quivered that he compressed them so. - -“A woman in the question,” reflected the consul. “That complicates -matters. All the more reason that he should leave London.” Then, aloud: -“If you feel unable to apply to them, I should recommend you strongly to -try America. Every one flocks to London for work, but as a matter of -fact London streets just now are not paved with gold; everything is at a -standstill; go where you will, you will hear that trade is bad, that -employment is scarce, and that living is dear.” - -“If I could hear of any opening in America, I would go at once,” said -Frithiof. “But at Bergen we have heard of late that it is no such easy -thing even over there to meet with work. I will not pay the expenses of -the voyage merely to be in my present state, and hundreds of miles -further from home.” - -“What can you do?” asked the consul. “Is your English pretty good?” - -“I can write and speak it easily. And, of course, German too. I -understand book-keeping.” - -“Any taste for teaching?” asked the consul. - -“None,” said Frithiof decidedly. - -“Then the only thing that seems open to you is the work of a secretary, -or a clerkship, or perhaps you could manage translating, but that is not -easy work to get. Everything now is overcrowded, so dreadfully -overcrowded. However, of course I shall bear you in mind, and you -yourself will leave no stone unturned. Stay, I might give you a letter -of introduction to Herr Sivertsen: he might possibly find you temporary -work. He is the author of that well-known book on Norway, you know. Do -you know your way about yet?” - -“Pretty well,” said Frithiof. - -“Then there is his address—Museum Street. You had better take an omnibus -at the Bank. Any of the Oxford Street ones will put you down at the -corner, by Mudie’s. Let me know how you get on: I shall be interested to -hear.” - -Then, with a kindly shake of the hand, Frithiof found himself dismissed; -and somewhat cheered by the interview, he made his way to the address -which had been given him. - -Herr Sivertsen’s rooms were of the gloomiest: they reeked of tobacco, -they were ill-lighted, and it seemed to Frithiof that the window could -not have been opened for a week. An oblique view of Mudie’s library was -the only object of interest to be seen without, though, by craning one’s -neck, one could get just a glimpse of the traffic in Oxford Street. He -waited for some minutes, wondering to himself how a successful author -could tolerate such a den, and trying to imagine from the room what sort -of being was the inhabiter thereof. At length the door opened, and a -gray-haired man of five and fifty, with a huge forehead and somewhat -stern, square-jawed face, entered. - -“I have read the consul’s letter,” he said, greeting Frithiof, and -motioning him to a chair. “You want what is very hard to get. Are you -aware that thousands of men are seeking employment and are unable to -meet with it?” - -“I know it is hard,” said Frithiof. “Still I have more chance here than -in Norway, and anyhow I mean to get it.” The emphatic way in which he -uttered these last words made the author look at him more attentively. - -“I am tired to death of young men coming to me and wanting help,” he -remarked frankly. “You are an altogether degenerate race, you young men -of this generation; in my opinion you don’t know what work means. It’s -money that you want, not work.” - -“Yes,” said Frithiof dryly, “you are perfectly right. It is money that I -want.” - -Now Herr Sivertsen had never before met with this honest avowal. In -reply to the speech which he had made to many other applicants he had -always received an eager protestation that the speaker was devoted to -work, that he was deeply interested in languages, that Herr Sivertsen’s -greatest hobbies were his hobbies too. He liked this bold avowal in his -secret heart, though he had no intention of letting this be seen. “Just -what I said!” he exclaimed. “A pleasure-seeking, money-grubbing -generation. What is the result? I give work to be done, and as long as -you can get gold you don’t care how the thing is scamped. Look here!” He -took up a manuscript from the table. “I have paid the fellow who did -this. He is not only behind time, but when at last the work is sent in -it’s a miserable performance, bungled, patched, scamped, even the -handwriting a disgrace to civilization. It’s because the man takes no -pride in the work itself, because he has not a spark of interest in his -subject. It just means to him so many shillings, that is all.” - -“I can at least write a clear hand,” said Frithiof. - -“That may be; but will you put any heart into your work? Do you care for -culture? for literature? Do you interest yourself in progress? do you -desire to help on your generation?” - -“As far as I am concerned,” said Frithiof bitterly, “the generation will -have to take care of itself. As for literature, I know little of it and -care less; all I want is to make money.” - -“Did I not tell you so?” roared Herr Sivertsen. “It is the accursed gold -which you are all seeking after. You care only for money to spend on -your own selfish indulgences. You are all alike! All! A worthless -generation!” - -Frithiof rose. - -“However worthless, we unluckily have to live,” he said coldly. “And as -I can’t pretend to be interested in ‘culture,’ I must waste no more time -in discussion.” - -He bowed and made for the door. - -“Stay,” said Herr Sivertsen: “it will do no harm if you leave your -address.” - -“Thank you, but at present I have none to give,” said Frithiof. -“Good-morning.” - -He felt very angry and very sore-hearted as he made his way down Museum -Street. To have met with such a rebuff from a fellow-countryman seemed -to him hard, specially in this time of his trouble. He had not enough -insight into character to understand the eccentric old author, and he -forgot that Herr Sivertsen knew nothing of his circumstances. He was too -abrupt, too independent, perhaps also too refined to push his way as an -unknown foreigner in a huge metropolis. He was utterly unable to draw a -picturesque description of the plight he was in, he could only rely on a -sort of dogged perseverance, a fixed resolve that he must and would find -work; and in spite of constant failures this never left him. - -He tramped down to Vauxhall and began to search for lodgings, looked at -some half-dozen sets, and finally lighted on a clean little house in a -new-looking street a few hundred yards from Vauxhall Station. There was -a card up in the window advertising rooms to let. He rang the bell and -was a little surprised to find the door opened to him by a middle-aged -woman who was unmistakably a lady, though her deeply lined face told of -privation and care, possibly also of ill-temper. He asked the price of -the rooms. - -“A sitting-room and bedroom at fifteen shillings a week,” was the reply. - -“It is too much, and besides I only need one room,” he said. - -“I am afraid we can not divide them.” - -He looked disappointed. An idea seemed to strike the landlady. - -“There is a little room at the top you might have,” she said; “but it -would not be very comfortable. It would be only five shillings a week, -including attendance.” - -“Allow me to see it,” said Frithiof. - -He felt so tired and ill that if she had shown him a pig-sty he would -probably have taken it merely for the sake of settling matters. As it -was, the room, though bare and comfortless, was spotlessly clean, and, -spite of her severe face, he rather took to his landlady. - -“My things are at the Arundel Hotel,” he explained. “I should want to -come in at once. Does that suit you?” - -“Oh, yes,” she said, scanning him closely. “Can you give us any -references?” - -“You can, if you wish, refer to the Swedish consul at 24 Great -Winchester Street.” - -“Oh, you are a Swede,” she said. - -“No; I am a Norwegian, and have only been in London since yesterday.” - -The landlady seemed satisfied, and having paid his five shillings in -advance, Frithiof went off to secure his portmanteau, and by five -o’clock was installed in his new home. - -It was well that he had lost no time in leaving his hotel, for during -the next two days he was unable to quit his bed, and could only console -himself with the reflection that at any rate he had a cheap roof over -his head and that his rent would not ruin him. - -Perhaps the cold night air from the river had given him a chill on the -previous night, or perhaps the strain of the excitement and suffering -had been too much for him. At any rate he lay in feverish wretchedness, -tossing through the long days and weary nights, a misery to himself and -an anxiety to the people of the house. - -He discovered that his first impression had been correct. Miss Turnour, -the landlady, was well born; she and her two sisters—all of them now -middle-aged women—were the daughters of a country gentleman, who had -either wasted his substance in speculation or on the turf. He was long -since dead, and had left behind him the fruits of his selfishness, three -helpless women, with no particular aptitudes and brought up to no -particular profession. They had sunk down and down in the social scale, -till it seemed that there was nothing left them but a certain refinement -of taste, which only enabled them to suffer more keenly, and the family -pedigree, of which they were proud, clinging very much to the peculiar -spelling of their name, and struggling on in their little London house, -quarreling much among themselves, and yet firmly determined that nothing -on earth should part them. Frithiof dubbed them the three Fates. He -wondered sometimes whether, after long years of poverty, he and Sigrid -and Swanhild should come to the same miserable condition, the same -hopeless, cold, hard spirit, the same pinched, worn faces, the same -dreary, monotonous lives. - -The three Fates did not take much notice of their lodger. Miss Turnour -often wished she had had the sense to see that he was ill before -admitting him. Miss Caroline, the youngest, flatly declined waiting on -him, as it was quite against her feelings of propriety. Miss Charlotte, -the middle one of the three, who had more heart than the rest, tried to -persuade him to see a doctor. - -“No,” he replied, “I shall be all right in a day or two. It is nothing -but a feverish attack. I can’t afford doctor’s bills.” - -She looked at him a little compassionately; his poverty touched a chord -in her own life. - -“Perhaps the illness has come in order that you may have time to think,” -she said timidly. - -She was a very small little woman, like a white mouse, but Frithiof had -speedily found that she was the only one of the three from whom he could -expect any help. She was the snubbed one of the family, partly because -she was timid and gentle, partly because she had lately adopted certain -religious views upon which the other two looked down with the most -supreme contempt. - -Frithiof was in no mood to respond to her well-meant efforts to convert -him, and used to listen to her discourses about the last day with a -stolid indifference which altogether baffled her. It seemed as if -nothing could possibly rouse him. - -“Ah,” she would say, as she left the room with a sad little shake of the -head, “_I_ shall be caught up at the second advent. I’m not at all sure -that _you_ will be.” - -The eldest Miss Turnour did not trouble herself at all about his -spiritual state; she thought only of the risk they were running and the -possible loss of money. - -“I hope he is not sickening with any infectious disease,” she used to -remark a dozen times a day. - -And Miss Charlotte said nothing, but silently thanked Heaven that she -had not been the one to accept the new lodger. - - - - - CHAPTER XI. - - -There is no suffering so severe as that which we perceive to be the -outcome of our own mistaken decision. Suffering caused by our own sin is -another matter; we feel in some measure that we deserve it. But to have -decided hastily, or too hopefully, or while some false view of the case -was presented to us, and then to find that the decision brings grievous -pain and sorrow, this is cruelly hard. - -It was this consciousness of his own mistake which preyed upon -Frithiof’s mind as he tossed through those long solitary hours. Had he -only insisted on speaking to Blanche’s uncle at Balholm, or on at once -writing to her father, all might have been well—his father yet alive, -the bankruptcy averted, Blanche his own. Over and over in his mind he -revolved the things that might have happened but for that fatal -hopefulness which had proved his ruin. He could not conceive now why he -had not insisted on returning to England with Blanche. It seemed to him -incredible that he had stayed in Norway merely to celebrate his -twenty-first birthday, or that he had been persuaded not to return with -the Morgans because Mr. Morgan would be out of town till October. His -sanguine nature had betrayed him, just as his father had been betrayed -by his too great hopefulness as to the Iceland expedition. Certainly it -is true that sanguine people in particular have to buy their experience -by bitter pain and loss. - -By the Saturday morning he was almost himself again as far as physical -strength was concerned, and his mind was healthy enough to turn -resolutely away from these useless broodings over the past, and to ask -with a certain amount of interest. “What is to be done next?” All is not -lost when we are able to ask ourselves that question; the mere asking -stimulates us to rise and be going, even though the direction we shall -take be utterly undecided. - -When Miss Charlotte came to inquire after her patient, she found to her -surprise that he was up and dressed. - -“What!” she exclaimed. “You are really well then?” - -“Quite well, thank you,” he replied, in the rather cold tone of voice -which had lately become habitual to him. “Have you a newspaper in the -house that you would be so good as to lend me?” - -“Certainly,” said Miss Charlotte, her face lighting up as she hastened -out of the room, returning in a minute with the special organ of the -religious party to which she belonged. “I think this might interest -you,” she began timidly. - -“I don’t want to be interested,” said Frithiof dryly. “All I want is to -look through the advertisements. A thousand thanks; but I see this paper -is not quite what I need.” - -“Are you sure that you know what you really need?” she said earnestly, -and with evident reference to a deeper subject. - -Had she not been such a genuine little woman, he would have spoken the -dry retort, “Madame, I need money,” which trembled on his lips; but -there was no suspicion of cant about her, and he in spite of his -bitterness still retained much of his Norwegian courtesy. - -“You see,” he said, smiling a little, “if I do not find work I can not -pay my rent, so I must lose no time in getting some situation.” - -The word “rent” recalled her eldest sister to Miss Charlotte’s mind, and -she resolved to say no more just at present as to the other matters. She -brought him one of the daily papers, and with a little sigh of -disappointment removed the religious “weekly,” leaving Frithiof to his -depressing study of the column headed “Situations Vacant.” - -Alas! how short it was compared to the one dedicated to “Situations -Wanted.” - -There was an editor-reporter needed, who must be a “first-class -all-round man”; but Frithiof could not feel that he was deserving of -such epithets, and he could not even write shorthand. There was a -“gentleman needed for the canvassing and publishing department of a -weekly,” but he must be possessed not only of energy but of experience. -Agents were needed for steel pens, toilet soap, and boys’ clothes, but -no novices need apply. Even the advertisement for billiard hands was -qualified by the two crushing words, “experienced only.” - -“A correspondence clerk wanted” made him look hopefully at the lines -which followed, but unluckily a knowledge of Portuguese was demanded as -well as of French and German; while the corn merchant who would receive -a gentleman’s son in an office of good position was prudent enough to -add the words, “No one need apply who is unable to pay substantial -premium.” - -Out of the whole list there were only two situations for which he could -even inquire, and he soon found that for each of these there were -hundreds of applicants. At first his natural hopefulness reasserted -itself, and each morning he would set out briskly, resolving to leave no -stone unturned, but when days and weeks had passed by in the monotonous -search, his heart began to fail him; he used to start from the little -back street in Vauxhall doggedly, dull despair eating at his heart, and -a sickening, ever-present consciousness that he was only an -insignificant unit struggling to find standing room in a world where -selfishness and money-grubbing reigned supreme. - -Each week brought him of course letters from Norway, his uncle sent him -letters of introduction to various London firms, but each letter brought -him only fresh disappointment. As the consul had told him, the market -was already overcrowded, and though very possibly he might have met with -work in the previous summer when all was well with him, no one seemed -inclined to befriend this son of a bankrupt, with his bitter tone and -proud bearing; the impression he gave every one was that he was an -Ishmaelite with his hand against every man, and it certainly did seem -that at present every man’s hand was against him. - -People write so much about the dangers of success and prosperity, and -the hardening effects of wealth, that they sometimes forget the other -side of the picture. Failure is always supposed to make a man patient -and humble and good; it rarely does so, unless to begin with his spirit -has been wakened from sleep. The man whose faith has been a mere -conventionality, or the man who like Frithiof has professed to believe -in life, becomes inevitably bitter and hard when all things are against -him. It is just then when a man is hard and bitter, just then when -everything else has failed him, that the devil comes to the fore -offering pleasures which in happier times would have had no attraction. - -At first certain aspects of London life had startled Frithiof; but he -speedily became accustomed to them; if he thought of them at all it was -with indifference rather than disgust. One day however, he passed with -seeming abruptness into a new state of mind. Sick with disappointment -after the failure of a rather promising scheme suggested to him by one -of the men to whom his uncle had written, he walked through the crowded -streets too hopeless and wretched even to notice the direction he had -taken, and with a miserable perception that his last good card was -played, and that all hope of success was over. His future was an -absolute blank, his present a keen distress, his past too bright in -contrast to bear thinking of. - -After all, had he not been a fool to struggle so long against his fate? -Clearly every one was against him. He would fight no longer; he would -give up that notion—that high-flown, unpractical notion of paying off -his father’s debts. To gain an honest living was apparently impossible, -the world afforded him no facilities for that, but it afforded him -countless opportunities of leading another sort of life. Why should he -not take what he could get? Life was miserable and worthless enough, but -at least he might put an end to the hideous monotony of the search after -work, at least he might plunge into a phase of life which would have at -any rate the charm of novelty. - -It was one of those autumn days when shadow and sun alternate quickly; a -gleam of sunshine now flooded the street with brightness. It seemed to -him that a gleam of light had also broken the dreariness of his life. -Possibly it might be a fleeting pleasure, but why should he not seize -upon it? His nature, however, was not one to be hurried thoughtlessly -into vice. If he sinned he would do so deliberately. He looked the two -lives fairly in the face now, and in his heart he knew which attracted -him most. The discovery startled him. “The pleasing veil which serves to -hide self from itself” was suddenly torn down, and he was seized with -the sort of terror which we most of us have experienced: - - “As that bright moment’s unexpected glare - Shows us the best and worst of what we are.” - -“Why not? why not?” urged the tempter. And the vague shrinking seemed to -grow less; nothing in heaven or earth seemed real to him; he felt that -nothing mattered a straw. As well that way as any other. Why not? - -It was the critical moment of his life; just as in old pictures one sees -an angel and a devil struggling hard to turn the balance, so now it -seemed that his fate rested with the first influence he happened to come -across. - -Why should he not say, “Evil, be thou my good,” once and for all, and -have done with a fruitless struggle? That was the thought which seethed -in his mind as he slowly made his way along the Strand, surely the least -likely street in London where one might expect that the good angel would -find a chance of turning the scale. The pushing crowd annoyed him; he -paused for a minute, adding another unit to the little cluster of men -which may always be seen before the window of a London picture-dealer. -He stopped less to look at the picture than for the sake of being still -and out of the hurrying tide. His eye wandered from landscape to -landscape with very faint interest until suddenly he caught sight of a -familiar view, which stirred his heart strangely. It was a picture of -the Romsdalshorn; he knew it in an instant, with its strange and -beautiful outline, rising straight and sheer up into a wintry blue sky. -A thousand recollections came thronging back upon him, all the details -of a holiday month spent in that very neighborhood with his father and -Sigrid and Swanhild. He tried to drag himself away, but he could not. -Sigrid’s face kept rising before him as if in protest against that “Why -not?” which still claimed a hearing within him. - -“If she were here,” he thought to himself, “I might keep straight. But -that’s all over now, and I can’t bear this life any longer. I have tried -everything and have failed. And, after all, who cares? It’s the way of -the world. I shant be worse than thousand of others.” - -Still the thought of Sigrid held him in check, the remembrance of her -clear blue eyes seemed to force him to go deeper down beneath the -surface of the sullen anger and disappointment which were goading him on -to an evil life. Was it after all quite true? Had he really tried -everything? - -Two or three times during his wanderings he had thought of Roy Boniface, -and had wondered whether he should seek him out again; but in his -trouble he had shrunk from going to comparative strangers, and, as far -as business went, it was scarcely likely that Roy could help him. -Besides, of the rest of the family he knew nothing; for aught he knew -the father might be a vulgar, purse-proud tradesman—the last sort of man -to whom he could allow himself to be under any obligation. - -Again came the horrible temptation, again that sort of terror of his own -nature. He turned once more to the picture of the Romsdalshorn; it -seemed to be the one thing which could witness to him of truth and -beauty and a life above the level of the beasts. - -Very slowly and gradually he began to see things as they really were; he -saw that if he yielded to this temptation he could never again face -Sigrid with a clear conscience. He saw, too, that his only safeguard lay -in something which would take him out of himself. “I _will_ get work,” -he said, almost fiercely. “For Sigrid’s sake I’ll have one more try.” - -And then all at once the evil imaginings faded, and there rose up -instead of them a picture of what might be in the future, of a home he -might make for Sigrid and Swanhild here in London, where he now roamed -about so wretchedly, of a life which should in every way be a contrast -to his present misery. But he felt, as thousands have felt before him, -that he was handicapped in the struggle by his loneliness, and perhaps -it was this consciousness more than any expectation of finding work -which made him swallow his pride and turn his steps toward Brixton. - - - - - CHAPTER XII. - - -By the time he reached Brixton it was quite dusk. Roy had never actually -given him his address; but he made inquiries at a shop in the -neighborhood, was offered the loan of a directory, and having found what -he needed was soon making his way up the well-swept carriage-drive which -led to Rowan Tree House. He was tired with the walk and with his lonely -day of wasted work and disappointment. When he saw the outlines of the -big, substantial house looming out of the twilight he began to wish that -he had never come, for he thought to himself that it would be within -just such another house as the Morgans’, with its hateful air of money, -like the house of Miss Kilmansegg in the poem: - - “Gold, and gold, and everywhere gold.” - -To his surprise the door was suddenly flung open as he approached, and a -little boy in a velvet tunic came dancing out on to the steps to meet -him. - -“Roy! Roy!” shouted the little fellow merrily, “I’ve come to meet you!” -Then speedily discovering his mistake, he darted back into the doorway, -hiding his face in Cecil’s skirt. - -She stood there with a little curly-headed child in her arms, and her -soft gray eyes and the deep blue baby eyes looked searching out into the -semi-darkness. Frithiof thought the little group looked like a picture -of the Holy Family. Somehow he no longer dreaded the inside of the -house. For the first time for weeks he felt the sort of rest which is -akin to happiness as Cecil recognized him, and came forward with a -pretty eagerness of manner to greet him, too much astonished at his -sudden appearance for any thought of shyness to intervene. - -“We thought you must have gone back to Norway,” she exclaimed. “I am so -glad you have come to see us. The children thought it was Roy who opened -the gate. He will be home directly. He will be so glad to see you.” - -“I should have called before,” said Frithiof, “but my days have been -very full, and then, too, I was not quite sure of your address.” - -He followed her into the brightly lighted hall, and with a sort of -satisfaction shut out the damp November twilight. - -“We have so often spoken of you and your sisters,” said Cecil, “but when -Roy called at the Arundel and found that you had left without giving any -address, we thought you must have gone back to Bergen.” - -“Did he call on me again there?” said Frithiof. “I remember now he -promised that he would come, I ought to have thought of it; but somehow -all was confusion that night, and afterward I was too ill.” - -“It must have been terrible for you all alone among strangers in a -foreign country,” said Cecil, the ready tears starting to her eyes. -“Come in and see my mother; she has often heard how good you all were to -us in Norway.” - -She opened a door on the left of the entrance hall and took him into one -of the prettiest rooms he had ever seen: the soft crimson carpet, the -inlaid rosewood furniture, the bookshelves with their rows of well-bound -books, all seemed to belong to each other, and a delightfully home-like -feeling came over him as he sat by the fire, answering Mrs. Boniface’s -friendly inquiries; he could almost have fancied himself once more in -his father’s study at Bergen—the room where so many of their long winter -evenings had been passed. - -They sat there talking for a good half-hour before Roy and his father -returned, but to Frithiof the time seemed short enough. He scarcely knew -what it was that had such a charm for him; their talk was not -particularly brilliant, and yet it somehow interested him. - -Mrs. Boniface was one of those very natural, homely people whose -commonplace remarks have a sort of flavor of their own, and Cecil had -something of the same gift. She never tried to make an impression, but -went on her way so quietly, that it was often not until she was gone -that people realized what she had been to them. Perhaps what really -chased away Frithiof’s gloom, and banished the look of the Ishmaelite -from his face, was the perception that these people really cared for -him, that their kindness was not labored formality but a genuine thing. -Tossed about for so long among hard-headed money-makers, forced every -day to confront glaring contrasts of poverty and wealth, familiarized -with the sight of every kind of evil, it was this sort of thing that he -needed. - -And surely it is strange that in these days when people are willing to -devote so much time and trouble to good works, so few are willing to -make their own homes the havens of refuge they might be. A home is apt -to become either a mere place of general entertainment, or else a -selfishly guarded spot where we may take our ease without a thought of -those who are alone in the world. Many will ask a man in Frithiof’s -position to an at-home or a dance, but very few care to take such a one -into their real home and make him one of themselves. They will talk -sadly about the temptations of town life, but they will not in this -matter stir an inch to counteract them. - -Mrs. Boniface’s natural hospitality and goodness of heart fitted her -admirably for this particular form of kindness; moreover, she knew that -her daughter would prove a help and not a hindrance, for she could in -all things trust Cecil, who was the sort of girl who can be friends with -men without flirting with them. At last the front door opened and -footsteps sounded in the hall; little Lance ran out to greet Mr. -Boniface and Roy, and Frithiof felt a sudden shame as he remembered the -purse-proud tradesman that foolish prejudice had conjured up in his -brain—a being wholly unlike the kindly, pleasant-looking man who now -shook hands with him, seeming in a moment to know who he was and all -about him. - -“And so you have been in London all this time!” exclaimed Roy. -“Whereabouts are you staying?” - -“Close to Vauxhall Station,” replied Frithiof. “Two or three times I -thought of looking you up, but there was always so much to do.” - -“You have found work here, then?” - -“No, indeed; I wish I had. It seems to me one may starve in this place -before finding anything to do.” - -“Gwen wishes to say good-night to you, Herr Falck,” said Cecil, leading -the little girl up to him; and the bitter look died out of Frithiof’s -face for a minute as he stooped to kiss the baby mouth that was -temptingly offered to him. - -“It will be hard if in all London we can not find you something,” said -Mr. Boniface. “What sort of work do you want?” - -“I would do anything,” said Frithiof. “Sweep a crossing if necessary.” - -They all laughed. - -“Many people say that vaguely,” said Mr. Boniface. “But when one comes -to practical details they draw back. The mud and the broom look all very -well in the distance, you see.” Then as a bell was rung in the hall: -“Let us have tea first, and afterward, if you will come into my study we -will talk the matter over. We are old-fashioned people in this house, -and keep to the old custom of tea and supper. I don’t know how you -manage such things in Norway, but to my mind it seems that the middle of -the day is the time for the square meal, as they say in America.” - -If the meal that awaited them in the dining-room was not “square,” it -was at any rate very tempting; from the fine damask table cloth to the -silver gypsy kettle, from the delicately arranged chrysanthemums to the -Crown Derby cups and saucers, all bespoke a good taste and the personal -supervision of one who really cared for beauty and order. The very food -looked unlike ordinary food, the horseshoes of fancy bread, the butter -swan in its parsley-bordered lake, the honeycomb, the cakes hot and -cold, and the beautiful bunches of grapes from the greenhouse, all -seemed to have a sort of character of their own. For the first time for -weeks Frithiof felt hungry. No more was said of the unappetizing subject -of the dearth of work, nor did they speak much of their Norwegian -recollections, because they knew it would be a sore subject with him -just now. - -“By the way, Cecil,” remarked Mr. Boniface, when presently a pause came -in the general talk, “I saw one of your heroes this morning. Do you go -in for hero-worship in Norway, Herr Falck? My daughter here is a pupil -after Carlyle’s own heart.” - -“We at any rate read Carlyle,” said Frithiof. - -“But who can it have been?” exclaimed Cecil. “Not Signor Donati?” - -“The very same,” said Mr. Boniface. - -“But I thought he was singing at Paris?” - -“So he is; he only ran over for a day or two on business, and he -happened to look in this morning with Sardoni, who came to arrange about -a song of his which we are going to publish.” - -“Sardoni seems to me the last sort of man one would expect to write -songs,” said Roy. - -“But in spite of it he has written a very taking one,” said Mr. -Boniface, “and I am much mistaken if it does not make a great hit. If so -his fortune is made, for you see he can write tenor songs for himself -and contralto songs for his wife, and they’ll get double royalties that -way.” - -“But Signor Donati, father, what did he say? What is he like?” - -“Well, he is so unassuming and quiet that you would never think it -possible he’s the man every one is raving about. And, except for that, -he’s really very much like other people, talked business very sensibly, -and seemed as much interested about this song of Sardoni’s as if there -had never been anything out of the way in his own life at all. I took to -him very much.” - -“Can’t you get him to sing next summer?” - -“I tried, but it is out of the question. He has signed an agreement only -to sing for Carrington. But he has promised me to sing at one of our -concerts the year after next.” - -“Fancy having to make one’s arrangements so long beforehand!” exclaimed -Cecil. “You must certainly hear him, Herr Falck, when you have a chance; -they say he is the finest baritone in Europe.” - -“He made us all laugh this morning,” said Mr. Boniface. “I forget now -what started it, something in the words of the song, I fancy, but he -began to tell us how yesterday he had been down at some country place -with a friend of his, and as they were walking through the grounds they -met a most comical old fellow in a tall hat. - -“‘Halloo!’ exclaimed his friend, ‘here’s old Sykes the mole-catcher, and -I do declare he’s got another beaver! Where on earth does he get them?’ - -“‘In England,’ said Donati to his friend, ‘it would hardly do to inquire -after his hatter, I suppose.’ - -“At which the other laughed of course, and they agreed together that -just for a joke they would find out. So they began to talk to the old -man, and presently the friend remarked: - -“‘I say, Sykes, my good fellow, I wish you’d tell me how you manage to -get such a succession of hats. Why, you are rigged out quite fresh since -I saw you on Monday.’ - -“The old mole-catcher gave a knowing wink, and after a little humming -and hawing he said: - -“‘Well, sir, yer see I changed clothes yesterday with a gentleman in the -middle of a field.’ - -“‘Changed clothes with a gentleman!’ they exclaimed. ‘What do you mean?’ - -“And the mole-catcher began to laugh outright, and leading them to a gap -in the hedge, pointed away into the distance. - -“‘There he be, sir; there he be,’ he said, laughing till he almost -choked. ‘It be naught but a scarecrow; but the scarecrows they’ve kep’ -me in clothes for many a year.’” - -Frithiof broke out into a ringing boyish laugh; it was the first time he -had laughed for weeks. Cecil guessed as much, and blessed Signor Donati -for having been the cause; but as she remembered what the young -Norwegian had been only a few months before, she could not help feeling -sad—could not help wondering what sorrow had changed him so terribly. -Had Blanche Morgan been faithful to him? she wondered. Or had his change -of fortune put an end to everything between them? In any case he must -greatly resent the way in which his father had been treated by the -English firm, and that alone must make matters very difficult for the -two lovers. - -Musing over it all, she became silent and abstracted, and on returning -to the drawing-room took up a newspaper, glancing aimlessly down the -columns, and wondering what her father and Roy would advise Frithiof to -do, and how the discussion in the study was prospering. - -All at once her heart began to beat wildly, for she had caught sight of -some lines which threw a startling light on Frithiof’s changed manner, -lines which also revealed to her the innermost recesses of her own -heart. - - -“The marriage arranged between Lord Romiaux and Miss Blanche Morgan, -only daughter of Austin Morgan, Esq., will take place on the 30th -instant, at Christ Church, Lancaster Gate.” - - -She was half-frightened at the sudden rage which took possession of her, -at the bitterness of the indignation which burned in her heart. What -right had Blanche Morgan to play with men? to degrade love to a mere -pastime? to make the most sacred thing in the world the sport of a -summer holiday? to ruin men’s lives for her own amusement? to lure on a -mere boy and flatter and deceive him; then quietly to throw him over? - -“And how about yourself?” said a voice in her heart. “Are you quite free -from what you blame in Blanche Morgan? Will you not be tempted to hope -that he may like you? Will you not try to please him? Will it not be a -pleasure to you if he cares for your singing?” - -“All that is quite true,” she admitted. “I do care to please him; I -can’t help it; but oh, God! let me die rather than do him harm!” - -Her quiet life with the vague feeling of something wanting in it had -indeed been changed by the Norwegian holiday. Now, for the first time, -she realized that her uneventful girlhood was over; she had become a -woman, and, woman-like, she bravely accepted the pain which love had -brought into her life, and looked sadly, perhaps, yet unshrinkingly into -the future, where it was little likely that anything but grief and -anxiety awaited her. For she loved a man who was absolutely indifferent -to her, and her love had given her clear insight. She saw that he was a -man whose faith in love, both human and divine, had been crushed out of -him by a great wrong; a man whose whole nature had deteriorated and -would continue to deteriorate, unless some unforeseen thing should -interfere to change his whole view of life. - -But the scalding tears which rose to her eyes were not tears of -self-pity; they were tears of sorrow for Frithiof, of disappointment -about his ruined life, of a sad humility as she thought to herself: “Oh! -if only I were fit to help him! If only!” - -Meanwhile in the study a very matter-of-fact conversation was being -held. - -“What I want to find out,” said Mr. Boniface, “is whether you are really -in earnest in what you say about work. There are thousands of young men -saying exactly the same thing, but when you take the trouble to go into -their complaint you find that the real cry is not ‘Give me work by which -I can get an honest living!’ but ‘Give me work that does not clash with -my tastes—work that I thoroughly like.’” - -“I have no particular tastes,” said Frithiof coldly. “The sort of work -is quite indifferent to me as long as it will bring in money.” - -“You are really willing to begin at the bottom of the ladder and work -your way up? You are not above taking a step which would place you much -lower in the social scale.” - -“A fellow living on the charity of a relation who grudges every -farthing, as taking something away from his own children, is not likely -to trouble much about the social scale,” said Frithiof bitterly. - -“Very well. Then I will, at any rate, suggest my plan for you, and see -what you think of it. If you care to accept it until something better -turns up, I can give you a situation in my house of business. Your -salary to begin with would be but small; the man who leaves me next -Monday has had only five and-twenty shillings a week, and I could not, -without unfair favoritism, give you more at first. But every man has a -chance of rising, and I am quite sure that you, with your advantages, -would do so. You understand that, as I said, it is mere work that I am -offering you. Doubtless standing behind a counter will not be very -congenial work to one brought up as you have been; but you might do -infinitely worse, and I can at least promise you that you will be -treated as a man—not, as in many places you would find it, as a mere -‘hand.’” - -Possibly, when he first arrived in London, Frithiof might have scouted -such a notion if it had been proposed to him, but now his first question -was whether he was really qualified for the situation. Those hard words -which had so often confronted him—“Experienced only”—flashed into his -mind. - -“I have had a good education,” he said, “and, of course, understand -book-keeping and so forth, but I have had no experience.” - -“I quite understand that,” said Mr. Boniface. “But you would soon get -into the way of things. My son would show you exactly what your work -would be.” - -“Of course I would,” said Roy. “Think it over, Falck, for at any rate it -would keep you going for a time while you look round for a better -opening.” - -“Yes, there is no need to make up your mind to-night. Sleep upon it, and -let me know how you decide to-morrow. If you think of accepting the -situation, then come and see me in Regent Street between half-past one -and two o’clock. We close at two on Saturdays. And in any case, whether -you accept or refuse this situation, I hope you will come and spend -Saturday to Monday with us here.” - -“You are very good,” said Frithiof, thinking to himself how unlike these -people were to any others he had come across in London. Miss Charlotte -Turnour had tried to do him good; it was part of her creed to try to do -good to people. The Bonifaces, on the other hand, had simply been -friendly and hospitable to him, had shown him that they really cared for -him, that they were sorry for his sorrow, and anxious over his -anxieties. But from Rowan Tree House he went away with a sense of warmth -about the heart, and from Miss Charlotte he invariably turned away -hardened and disgusted. Perhaps it was that she began at the wrong end, -and, like so many people in the world, offered the hard crust of -dogmatic utterances to one who was as yet only capable of being -nourished on the real substance of the loaf—a man who was dying for want -of love, and who no more needed elaborate theological schemes than the -starving man in the desert needs the elaborate courses of a -dinner-party. - -It is God’s way to reveal Himself through man, though we are forever -trying to improve upon His way, and endeavoring to convert others by -articles of religion instead of the beauty of holiness. - -As Frithiof walked home to Vauxhall he felt more at rest than he had -done for many days. They had not preached at him; they had not given him -unasked-for advice; they had merely given one of the best gifts that can -be given in this world, the sight of one of those homes where the -kingdom of heaven has begun—a home, that is, where “righteousness and -peace and joy” are the rule, and whatever contradicts this reign of love -the rare exception. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII. - - -The gloomy little lodging-house felt desolate enough to him as he -unlocked the door with his latch-key and climbed the creaking stairs to -his sparsely furnished room. Evidently the three Miss Turnours were -having a very animated quarrel, for their voices were pitched in that -high key which indicates a stormy atmosphere, and even their words -reached him distinctly as he passed by the bedroom which was the arena -of strife. - -“But, my dear Caroline—” - -“Don’t talk nonsense, my dear, you know perfectly well—” - -“Do you mean to say, my dear—” - -“I wonder,” thought Frithiof, “whether they ever allow each other to -finish a sentence. It’s like the catch that they used to sing at -Balholm, about ‘Celia’s Charms.’ If any one ever writes a catch called -‘The Quarrel,’ he must take care to stick in plenty of ‘my dears!’” - -Strict economy in gas was practiced by the Miss Turnours, and Frithiof -had to grope about for matches. “Attendance,” too, did not apparently -include drawing down the blind, or turning down the bed. The room looked -most bare and comfortless, and the dismal gray paper, with its oblong -slabs, supposed by courtesy to represent granite, was as depressing as -the dungeon of Giant Despair’s castle. - -To stay here with nothing to do—to fag through weary days of -disappointing search after work, and then to return to this night after -night, was but a sorry prospect. Would it not indeed be well for him if -he swallowed his pride and accepted this offer of perfectly honorable -work which had been made to him? The idea was in many ways distasteful -to him, and yet dared he reject it? - -Looking honestly into his own mind he detected there something that -urged him to snatch at this first chance of work, lest, with fresh -failure and disappointment, the very desire for work should die within -him, and he should sink into a state which his better nature abhorred. -The clatter of tongues still ascended from below. He took off his boots, -dropping first one and then the other with a resounding thud upon the -floor, after the manner of men. Then wondering whether consciousness of -his being within earshot would allay the storm, he threw down both boots -at once with a portentous noise outside his room and shut and locked the -door with emphasis. Still the female battle continued. He threw himself -down on the bed, wondering what it was that made families so different. -It was not money which gave the tone to the Bonifaces’ house. The -Morgans were infinitely richer. It was not a great profession of -religion. The Miss Turnours were all ardently and disputatiously -religious. What was it? - -He fell asleep before he had solved the problem, and had an odd, -confused dream. He dreamed that he was climbing the Romsdalshorn, and -that darkness had overtaken him. Below him was a sheer precipice, and he -could hear the roar of wild beasts as they wandered to and fro thirsting -for his blood. - -“They are bound to get me sooner or later,” he thought, “for I can never -hold out till daylight. I may as well let myself go.” - -And the thought of the horror of that fall was so great that he almost -woke with it. But something seemed to him to quiet him again. It was -partly curiosity to understand the meaning of a light which had dawned -in the sky, and which deepened and spread every moment. At last he saw -that it had been caused by the opening of a door, and in the doorway, -with a glory of light all about them, he saw the Madonna and the Holy -Child. A path of light traced itself from them on the mountain-side to -the place where he stood, and he struggled up, no longer afraid to go -forward, and without a thought of the beasts or the precipice. And thus -struggling on, all details were lost in a flood of light, and warmth, -and perfect content, and a welcome that left nothing wanting. - -A pushing back of chairs in the room below suddenly roused him. With a -sense of bewilderment, he found himself lying on the hard lodging-house -bed, and heard the quarrelsome voices rising through the floor. - -“Still at it,” he thought to himself with a bitter smile. And then he -thought of the picture of the Romsdalshorn he had seen that afternoon—he -remembered a horrible temptation that had seized him—remembered Cecil -standing in the open door with the child in her arms, remembered the -perfect welcome he had received from the whole house. Should he in his -foolish pride drift into the miserable state of these poor Turnours, and -drag through life in poverty, because he was too well-born to take the -work he could get? - -“These poor ladies would be happier even in service than they are here, -in what they call independence,” he reflected. “I shall take this -situation; it’s the first step up.” - -The next morning he went to the Swedish Embassy to ask advice once more. - -“I am glad to see you,” said the consul. “I was hoping you would look in -again, for I met old Sivertsen the other day, and he was most anxious to -have your address. He said you went off in a hurry, and never gave him -time to finish what he was saying.” - -Frithiof smiled. - -“He did nothing but inveigh against the rising generation, and I didn’t -care to waste the whole morning over that.” - -“You have too little diplomacy about you,” said the consul. “You do not -make the best of your own case. However, Sivertsen seems to have taken a -fancy to you, and I advise you to go to him again; he will most likely -offer you work. If I were you, I would make up my mind to take whatever -honest work turns up, and throw pride to the winds. Leave your address -here with me, and if I hear of anything I’ll let you know.” - -Frithiof, somewhat unwillingly, made his way to Museum Street, and was -ushered into the stuffy little den where Herr Sivertsen sat smoking and -writing serenely. He bowed stiffly, but was startled to see the sudden -change which came over the face of the old Norwegian at sight of him. - -“So! You have come back, then!” he exclaimed, shaking him warmly by the -hand, just as though they had parted the best of friends. “I am glad of -it. Why didn’t you tell me the real state of the case? Why didn’t you -tell me you were one of the victims of the accursed thirst for gold? Why -didn’t you tell me of the hardness and rapacity of the English firm? But -you are all alike—all! Young men nowadays can’t put a decent sentence -together; they clip their words as close as if they were worth a mint of -money. A worthless generation! Sit down, now, sit down, and tell me what -you can do.” - -Frithiof, perceiving that what had first seemed like boorishness was -really eccentricity, took the proffered chair, and tried to shake off -the mantle of cold reserve which had of late fallen upon him. - -“I could do translating,” he replied. “English, German, or Norwegian. I -am willing to do copying; but there, I suppose, the typewriters would -cut me out. Any way, I have four hours to spare in the evening, and I -want them filled.” - -“You have found some sort of work, then, already?” - -“Yes, I have got work which will bring me in twenty-five shillings a -week, but it leaves me free from eight o’clock, and I want evening -employment.” - -Herr Sivertsen gave a grunt which expressed encouragement and approval. -He began shuffling about masses of foolscap and proofs which were strewn -in wild confusion about the writing-table. “These are the revised proofs -of Scanbury’s new book; take this page and let me see how you can render -it into Norwegian. Here are pen and paper. Sit down and try your hand.” - -Frithiof obeyed. Herr Sivertsen seemed satisfied with the result. - -“Put the same page into German,” he said. - -Frithiof worked away in silence, and the old author paced to and fro -with his pipe, giving a furtive glance now and then at the down-bent -head with its fair, obstinate hair brushed erect in Norwegian fashion, -and the fine Grecian profile upon which the dark look of trouble sat -strangely. In spite of the sarcasm and bitterness which disappointment -had roused in Frithiof’s nature the old author saw that such traits were -foreign to his real character—that they were but a thin veneer, and that -beneath them lay the brave and noble nature of the hardy Norseman. The -consul’s account of his young countryman’s story had moved him greatly, -and he was determined now to do what he could for him. He rang the bell -and ordered the Norwegian maid-servant to bring lunch for two, adding an -emphatic “Strax!” (immediately), which made Frithiof look up from his -writing. - -“You have finished?” asked Herr Sivertsen. - -“Not quite. I can’t get this last bit quite to my mind. I don’t believe -there is an equivalent in German for that expression.” - -“You are quite right. There isn’t. I couldn’t get anything for it -myself. What have you put? Good! very good. It is an improvement on what -I had thought of. The sentence runs better.” - -He took the paper from the table and mumbled through it in an approving -tone. - -“Good! you will do,” he said, at the end. “Now while we lunch together -we can discuss terms. Ha! what has she brought us? Something that -pretends to be German sausage! Good heavens! The depravity of the age! -_This_ German sausage indeed! I must apologize to you for having it on -the table, but servants are all alike nowadays—all alike! Not one of -them can understand how to do the marketing properly. A worthless -generation!” - -Frithiof began to be faintly amused by the old man, and as he walked -away from Museum Street with a week’s work under his arm he felt in -better spirits than he had done for some time. - -With not a little curiosity he sought out the Bonifaces’ shop in Regent -Street. It had a well-ordered, prosperous look about it: double doors -kept the draught from those within, the place was well warmed -throughout; on each side of the door was a counter with a desk and -stool, Mr. Boniface being one of those who consider that sitting is as -cheap as standing, and the monotony of the long shelves full of -holland-covered portfolios was broken by busts of Beethoven, Mozart, -Wagner, and other great musicians. The inner shop was consecrated to -instruments of all kinds, and through this Frithiof was taken to Mr. -Boniface’s private room. - -“Well,” said the shop-owner, greeting him kindly. “And have you made -your decision!” - -“Yes, sir, I have decided to accept the situation,” said Frithiof. And -something in his face and bearing showed plainly that he was all the -better for his choice. - -“I forget whether I told you about the hours,” said Mr. Boniface. -“Half-past eight in the morning till half-past seven at night, an hour -out of that for dinner, and half an hour for tea. You will have of -course the usual bank holidays, and we also arrange that each of our men -shall have a fortnight some time during the summer.” - -“You are very thoughtful for your hands,” said Frithiof. “It is few, I -should fancy, who would allow so much.” - -“I don’t know that,” said Mr. Boniface. “A good many, I fancy, try -something of the sort, and I am quite sure that it invariably answers. -It is not in human nature to go on forever at one thing—every one needs -variety. Business becomes a tread-mill if you never get a thorough -change, and I like my people to put their heart into the work. If you -try to do that you will be of real value, and are bound to rise.” - -“Look,” said Roy, showing him a neatly drawn-out plan of names and -dates. “This is the holiday chart which we worked out this summer. It -takes my father quite a long time to arrange it all and make each -dovetail properly with the others.” - -They lingered for a few minutes talking over the details of the -business, then Roy took Frithiof down into the shop again, and in the -uninterrupted quiet of the Saturday afternoon showed him exactly what -his future work would be. He was to preside at the song-counter, and Roy -initiated him into the arrangement of the brown-holland portfolios with -their black lettering, showed him his desk with account-books, -order-book, and cash-box, even made him practice rolling up music in the -neat white wrappers that lay ready to hand—a feat which at first he did -not manage very quickly. - -“I am afraid all this must be very uncongenial to you,” said Roy. - -“Perhaps,” said Frithiof. “But it will do as well as anything else. And -indeed,” he added warmly, “one would put up with a great deal for the -sake of being under such a man as Mr. Boniface.” - -“The real secret of the success of the business is that he personally -looks after every detail,” said Roy. “All the men he employs are fond of -him; he expects them to do their best for him, and he does his best for -them. I think you may really be happy enough here, though of course it -is not at all the sort of life you were brought up to expect.” - -Each thought involuntarily of the first time they had met, and of -Blanche Morgan’s ill-timed speech: “Only a shopkeeper!” Roy understood -perfectly well what it was that brought the bitter look into his -companion’s face, and, thinking that they had stayed long enough for -Frithiof to get a pretty clear idea of the work which lay before him on -Monday morning, he proposed that they should go home together. He had -long ago got over the selfish desire to be quit of the responsibility of -being with the Norwegian; his first awkward shyness had been, after all, -natural enough, for those whose lives have been very uneventful seldom -understand how to deal with people in trouble, and are apt to shrink -away in unsympathetic silence because they have not learned from their -own sore need what it is that human nature craves for in sorrow. But -each time he met Frithiof now he felt that the terrible evening at the -Arundel had broken down the barriers which hitherto had kept him from -friendship with any one out of his own family. Mere humanity had forced -him to stay as the solitary witness of an overwhelming grief, and he had -gained in this way a knowledge of life and a sympathy with Frithiof, of -which he had been quite incapable before. - -He began to know intuitively how things would strike Frithiof, and as -they went down to Brixton he prepared him for what he shrewdly surmised -would be the chief disagreeable in his business life. - -“I don’t think you heard,” he began “that there is another partner in -our firm—a cousin of my father’s—James Horner. I dare say you will not -come across him very much, but he is fond of interfering now and then, -and sometimes if my father is away he gets fussy and annoying. He is not -at all popular in the shop, and I thought I would just warn you -beforehand, though of course you are not exactly expecting a bed of -roses.” - -It would have been hard to say exactly what Frithiof was expecting; his -whole life had been unstrung, and this new beginning represented to him -merely a certain amount of monotonous work to the tune of -five-and-twenty shillings a week. - -When they reached Rowan Tree House they found a carriage waiting at the -door. - -“Talk of the angel and its wings appear,” said Roy. “The Horners are -calling here. What a nuisance!” - -Frithiof felt inclined to echo this sentiment when he found himself in -the pretty drawing-room once more and became conscious of the presence -of an overdressed woman and a bumptious little man with mutton-chop -whiskers and inquisitive eyes, whose air of patronage would have been -comical had it not been galling to his Norwegian independence. Roy had -done well to prepare him, for nothing could have been so irritating to -his sensitive refinement as the bland self-satisfaction, the innate -vulgarity of James Horner. Mrs. Boniface and Cecil greeted him -pleasantly, and Mrs. Horner bowed her lofty bonnet with dignity when he -was introduced to her, and uttered a platitude about the weather in an -encouraging tone, which speedily changed, however, when she discovered -that he was actually “one of the hands.” - -“The Bonifaces have no sense of what is fitting,” she said afterward to -her husband. “The idea of introducing one of the shopmen to me! I never -go into Loveday’s drawing-room without longing to leave behind me a book -on etiquette.” - -“She’s a well-meaning soul,” said James Horner condescendingly. “But -countrified still, and unpolished. It’s strange after so many years of -London life.” - -“Not strange at all,” retorted Mrs. Horner snappishly. “She never tries -to copy correct models, so how’s it likely her manners should improve. -I’m not at all partial to Cecil either. They’ll never make a stylish -girl of her with their ridiculous ideas about stays and all that. I’ll -be bound her waist’s a good five-and-twenty inches.” - -“Oh, well, my dear, I really don’t see much to find fault with in -Cecil.” - -“But I do,” said Mrs. Horner emphatically. “For all her quietness -there’s a deal of obstinacy about the girl. I should like to know what -she means to do with that criminal’s children that she has foisted on -the family! I detest people who are always doing _outré_ things like -that; it’s all of a piece with their fads about no stays and Jaeger’s -woolen clothes. The old customs are good enough for me, and I’m sure -rather than let myself grow as stout as Loveday I’d tight-lace night as -well as day.” - -“She’s not much of a figure, it’s true.” - -“Figure, indeed!” echoed his wife. “A feather-bed tied around with a -string, that’s what she is.” - -“But she makes the house very comfortable, and always has a good table,” -said Mr. Horner reflectively. - -His wife tossed her head and flushed angrily, for she knew quite well -that while the Bonifaces spent no more on housekeeping than she did, -their meals were always more tempting, more daintily arranged. She was -somehow destitute of the gift of devising nice little dinners, and could -by no means compass a pretty-looking supper. - -“It seems to me, you know,” said James Horner, “that we go on year after -year in a dull round of beef and mutton, mutton and beef.” - -“Well, really, Mr. H.,” she replied sharply, “if you want me to feed you -on game and all the delicacies of the season, you must give me a little -more cash, that’s all.” - -“I never said that I wanted you to launch out into all the delicacies of -the season. Loveday doesn’t go in for anything extravagant; but somehow -one wearies of eternal beef and mutton. I wish they’d invent another -animal!” - -“And till they do, I’ll thank you not to grumble, Mr. H. If there’s one -thing that seems to me downright unchristian it is to grumble at things. -Why, where’s that idiot of a coachman driving us to? It’s half a mile -further that way. He really must leave us; I can’t stand having a -servant one can’t depend on. He has no brains at all.” - -She threw down the window and shouted a correction to the coachman, but -unluckily, in drawing in her head again, the lofty bonnet came violently -into contact with the roof of the carriage. “Dear! what a bother!” she -exclaimed. “There’s my osprey crushed all to nothing!” - -“Well, Cecil would say it was a judgment on you,” said James Horner, -smiling. “Didn’t you hear what she was telling us just now? they kill -the parent birds by scores and leave the young ones to die of -starvation. It’s only in the breeding season that they can get those -feathers at all.” - -“Pshaw! what do I care for a lot of silly little birds!” said Mrs. -Horner, passing her hand tenderly and anxiously over the crushed bonnet. -“I shall buy a fresh one on Monday, if it’s only to spite that girl; -she’s forever talking up some craze about people or animals being hurt. -It’s no affair of mine; my motto is ‘Live and let live’; and don’t be -forever ferreting up grievances.” - -Frithiof breathed more freely when the Horners had left Rowan Tree -House, and indeed every one seemed to feel that a weight had been -removed, and a delightful sense of ease took possession of all. - -“Cousin Georgina will wear ospreys to the bitter end, I prophesy,” said -Roy. “You’ll never convince her that anything she likes is really hard -on others.” - -“Of course, many people have worn them before they knew of the cruelty,” -said Cecil, “but afterward I can’t think how they can.” - -“You see, people as a rule don’t really care about pain at a distance,” -said Frithiof. “Torture thousands of these herons and egrets by a -lingering death, and though people know it is so they wont care; but -take one person within hearing of their cries, and that person will -wonder how any human being can be such a barbarian as to wear these -so-called ospreys.” - -“I suppose it is that we are so very slow to realize pain that we don’t -actually see.” - -“People don’t really want to stop pain till it makes them personally -uncomfortable,” replied Frithiof. - -“That sounds horribly selfish.” - -“Most things come round to selfishness when you trace them out.” - -“Do you really quite think that? I don’t think it can be true, because -it is not of one’s self that one thinks in trying to do away with the -sufferings of the world; reformers always know that they will have to -endure a great deal of pain themselves, and it is the thought of -lessening it for others that makes them brave enough to go on.” - -“But you must allow,” said Frithiof, “that to get up a big subscription -you must have a harrowing account of a catastrophe. You must stir -people’s hearts so that they wont be comfortable again till they have -given a guinea; it is their own pain that prompts them to act—their own -personal discomfort.” - -“That may be, perhaps; but it is not altogether selfishness if they -really do give help; it must be a God-like thing that makes them want to -cure pain—a devil would gloat over it. Why should you call it -selfishness because the good pleases them? ‘_Le bien me plaît_’ was a -good enough motto for the Steadfast Prince, why not for the rest of us?” - -“But is it orthodox, surely, to do what you dislike doing?” - -“Yes,” struck in Roy, “like the nursery rhyme about - - ‘The twelve Miss Pellicoes they say were always taught - To do the thing they didn’t like, which means the thing they ought.’” - -“But that seems to me exactly what is false,” said Cecil. “Surely we -have to grow into liking the right and the unselfish, and hating the -thing that only pleases the lower part of us?” - -“But the growth is slow with most of us,” said Mr. Boniface. “There’s a -specimen for you,” and he glanced toward the door, where an altercation -was going on between Master Lance and the nurse who had come to fetch -him to bed. - -“Oh, come, Lance, don’t make such a noise,” cried Cecil, crossing the -room and putting a stop to the sort of war-dance of rage and passion -which the little fellow was executing. “Why, what do you think would -happen to you if you were to sit up late?” - -“What?” asked Lance, curiosity gaining the upper hand and checking the -frenzy of impatience which had possessed him. - -“You would be a wretched little cross white child, and would never grow -up into a strong man. Don’t you want to grow big and strong so that you -can take care of Gwen?” - -“And I’ll take care of you, too,” he said benevolently. “I’ll take you -all the way to Norway, and row you in a boat, and shoot the bears.” - -Frithiof smiled. - -“The trouble generally is to find bears to shoot.” - -“Yes, but Cecil did see where a bear had made its bed up on Munkeggen, -didn’t you, Cecil?” - -“Yes, yes, and you shall go with me some day,” she said, hurrying the -little fellow off because she thought the allusion to Munkeggen would -perhaps hurt Frithiof. - -Roy was on the point of taking up the thread of conversation again about -Norway, but she promptly intervened. - -“I don’t know how we shall cure Lance of dancing with rage like that; we -have the same scene every night.” - -“You went the right way to work just now,” said Mr. Boniface. “You made -him understand why his own wishes must be thwarted; and you see he was -quite willing to believe what you said. You had a living proof of what -you were arguing—he did what he had once disliked because he saw that it -was the road to something higher, and better, and more really desirable -than his play down here. In time he will have a sort of respectful -liking for the road which once he hated.” - -“The only drawback is,” said Frithiof, rather bitterly, “that he may -follow the road, and it may not lead him to what he expects; he may go -to bed like an angel, and yet, in spite of that, lose his health, or -grow up without a chance of taking you to Norway or shooting bears.” - -“Well, what then?” said Cecil quietly. “It will have led him on in the -right direction, and if he is disappointed of just those particular -things, why, he must look further and higher.” - -Frithiof thought of his dream and was silent. - -“I’m going to make tea, Roy,” said Mrs. Boniface, laying down her -netting, “and you had better show Herr Falck his room. I hope you’ll -often come and spend Sunday with us,” she added, with a kindly glance at -the Norwegian. - -In the evening they had music. Roy and Cecil both sung well; their -voices were not at all out of the common, but no pains had been spared -on their training, and Frithiof liked the comfortable, informal way in -which they sung one thing after another, treating him entirely as one of -the family. - -“And now it is your turn,” said Cecil, after awhile. “Father, where is -that Amati that somebody sent you on approval? Perhaps Herr Falck would -try it?” - -“Oh, do you play the violin?” said Mr. Boniface; “that is capital. -You’ll find it in my study cupboard, Cecil; stay, here’s the key.” - -Frithiof protested that he was utterly out of practice, that it was -weeks since he had touched his violin, which had been left behind in -Norway; but when he actually saw the Amati he couldn’t resist it, and it -ended in his playing to Cecil’s accompaniment for the rest of the -evening. - -To Cecil the hours seemed to fly, and Mrs. Boniface, after a preliminary -round of tidying up the room, came and stood by her, watching her bright -face with motherly contentment. - -“Prayer time, darling,” she said, as the sonata came to an end; “and -since it’s Saturday night we mustn’t be late.” - -“Ten o’clock already?” she exclaimed; “I had no idea it was so late! -What hymn will you have, father?” - -“The Evening Hymn,” said Mr. Boniface; and Frithiof, wondering a little -what was going to happen, obediently took the place assigned him, saw -with some astonishment that four white-capped maid-servants had come -into the drawing-room and were sitting near the piano, and that Mr. -Boniface was turning over the leaves of a big Bible. He had a dim -recollection of having read something in an English poem about a similar -custom, and racked his brain to remember what it could be until the -words of a familiar psalm broke the stillness of the room, and recalled -him to the present. - -“I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help,” -read Mr. Boniface. And as he went on, the beautiful old poem with its -tender, reassuring cadences somehow touched Frithiof, so that when they -stood up to sing “Glory to Thee, my God, this night,” he did not cavil -at each line as he would have done a little while before, but stood -listening reverently, conscious of a vague desire for something in which -he felt himself to be lacking. After all, the old beliefs which he had -dismissed so lightly from his mind were not without a power and a beauty -of their own. - -“I wish I could be like these people,” he thought to himself, kneeling -for the first time for years. - -And though he did not hear a word of the prayer, and could not honestly -have joined in it if he had heard, his mind was full of a longing which -he could not explain. The fact was that in the past he had troubled -himself very little about the matter, he had allowed the “Zeitgeist” to -drive him as it would, and following the fashion of his companions, with -a comfortable consciousness of having plenty to keep him in countenance, -he had thrown off the old faiths. - -He owned as much to Cecil the next day when, after breakfast, they -chanced to be alone together for a few minutes. - -“Have you found any Norwegian service in London, or will you come with -us?” she asked unconsciously. - -“Oh,” he replied, “I gave up that sort of thing long ago, and while you -are out I will get on with some translation I have in hand.” - -“I beg your pardon,” she said, coloring crimson; “I had no idea, or I -should not have asked.” - -But there was not the faintest shade of annoyance in Frithiof’s face; he -seemed puzzled at her confusion. - -“The services bored me so,” he explained. He did not add as he had done -to Blanche that in his opinion religion was only fit for women, perhaps -because it would have been difficult to make such a speech to Cecil, or -perhaps because the recollection of the previous evening still lingered -with him. - -“Oh,” said Cecil, smiling as she recognized the boyishness of his -remark; “I suppose every one goes through a stage of being bored. Roy -used to hate Sunday when he was little; he used to have a Sunday pain -which came on quite regularly when we were starting to chapel, so that -he could stay at home.” - -“I know you will all think me a shocking sinner to stay at home -translating this book,” said Frithiof. - -“No, we shant,” said Cecil quietly. “If you thought it was right to go -to church of course you would go. You look at things differently.” - -He was a little startled by her liberality. - -“You assume by that that I always do what I know to be right,” he said, -smiling. “What makes you suppose any such thing?” - -“I can’t tell you exactly; but don’t you think one has a sort of -instinct as to people? without really having heard anything about them, -one can often know that they are good or bad.” - -“I think one is often horribly mistaken in people,” said Frithiof -moodily. - -“Yes; sometimes one gets unfairly prejudiced, perhaps, by a mere -likeness to another person whom one dislikes. Oh, I quite allow that -this sort of instinct is not infallible.” - -“You are much more liable to think too well of people than not well -enough,” said Frithiof. “You are a woman and have seen but little of the -world. Wait till you have been utterly deceived in some one, and then -your eyes will be opened, and you will see that most people are at heart -mean and selfish and contemptible.” - -“But there is one thing that opens one’s eyes to see what is good in -people,” said Cecil. “You can’t love all humanity and yet think them -mean and contemptible, you soon see that they are worth a great deal.” - -“It is as you said just now,” said Frithiof, after a minute’s silence, -“we look at things differently. You look at the world out of charitable -eyes. I look at it seeing its baseness and despising it. Some day you -will see that my view is correct; you will find that your kindly -judgments are wrong. Perhaps I shall be the first to undeceive you, for -you are utterly wrong about me. You think me good, but it is ten to one -that I go to the bad altogether; after all, it would be the easiest way -and the most amusing.” - -He had gone on speaking recklessly, but Cecil felt much too keenly to be -checked by any conventionality as to the duty of talking only of surface -matters. - -“You are unjust to the world, yourself included!” she exclaimed. “I -believe that you have too much of the hardy Norseman about you ever to -hanker after a life of ease and pleasure which must really ruin you.” - -“That speech only shows that you have formed too high an estimate of our -national character,” said Frithiof. “Perhaps you don’t know that the -Norwegians are often drunkards?” - -“Possibly; and so are the English; but, in spite of that, is not the -real national character true and noble and full of a sense of duty? What -I meant about you was that I think you do try to do the things you see -to be right. I never thought you were perfect.” - -“Then if I do the things that I see to be right I can only see a very -little, that’s certain,” he said lightly. - -“Exactly so,” she replied, unable to help laughing a little at his tone. -“And I think that you have been too lazy to take the trouble to try and -see more. However, that brings us round again to the things that bore -you. Would you like to write at this table in the window? You will be -quite quiet in here till dinner-time.” - -She found him pens and ink, tore a soiled sheet off the blotting-pad, -drew up the blind so as to let in just enough sunshine, and then left -him to his translating. - -“What a strange girl she is,” he thought to himself. “As frank and -outspoken as a boy, and yet with all sorts of little tender touches -about her. Sigrid would like her; they did take to one another at -Balholm, I remember.” - -Then, with a bitter recollection of one who had eclipsed all others -during that happy week on the Sogne Fjord, the hard look came back to -his face, and taking up his pen he began to work doggedly at Herr -Sivertsen’s manuscript. - -The next morning his new life began: he turned his back on the past and -deliberately made his downward step on the social ladder, which -nevertheless meant an upward step on the ladder of honesty and success. -Still there was no denying that the loss of position chafed him sorely; -he detested having to treat such a man as James Horner as his master and -employer; he resented the free-and-easy tone of the other men employed -on the premises. Mr. Horner, who was the sort of man who would have -patronized an archangel for the sake of showing off his own superior -affability, unluckily chanced to be in the shop a good deal during that -first week, and the new hand received a large share of his notice. -Frithiof’s native courtesy bore him up through a good deal, but at last -his pride got the better of him, and he made it so perfectly apparent to -the bumptious little man that he desired to have as little to do with -him as possible, that James Horner’s bland patronage speedily changed to -active dislike. - -“What induced you to choose that Falck in Smith’s place?” he said to Mr. -Boniface, in a grumbling tone. He persisted in dropping the broad “a” in -Frithiof’s name, and pronouncing it as if it rhymed with “talc”—a sound -peculiarly offensive to Norwegian ears. - -“He is a friend of Roy’s,” was the reply. “What is it that you dislike -about him? He seems to me likely to prove very efficient.” - -“Oh, yes; he has his wits about him, perhaps rather too much so, but I -can’t stand the ridiculous airs the fellow gives himself. Order him to -do anything, and he’ll do it as haughtily as though he were master and I -servant; and as for treating him in a friendly way it’s impossible; he’s -as stand-offish as if he were a Crœsus instead of a poor beggar without -a penny to bless himself with.” - -“He is a very reserved fellow,” said Mr. Boniface; “and you must -remember that this work is probably distasteful to him. You see he has -been accustomed to a very different position.” - -“Why, his father was nothing but a fish merchant who went bankrupt.” - -“But out in Norway merchants rank much more highly than with us. -Besides, the Falcks are of a very old family.” - -“Well, really I never expected to hear such a radical as you speak up -for old family and all that nonsense,” said James Horner. “But I see you -are determined to befriend this fellow, so it’s no good my saying -anything against it. I hope you may find him all you expect. For my part -I consider him a most unpromising young man; there’s an aggressiveness -about his face and bearing that I don’t like at all. A dangerous, -headstrong sort of character, and not in the least fit for the position -you have given him.” - -With which sweeping condemnation Mr. Horner left the room, and Roy, who -had kept a politic silence throughout the scene, threw down his pen and -went into a subdued fit of laughter. - -“You should see them together, father, it’s as good as a play,” he -exclaimed. “Falck puts on his grand air and is crushingly polite the -moment Cousin James puts in an appearance, and that nettles him and he -becomes more and more vulgar and fussy, and so they go poking each other -up worse and worse every minute.” - -“It’s very foolish of Falck,” said Mr. Boniface. “If he means to get on -in life, he will have to learn the art of rising above such paltry -annoyances as airs of patronage and manners that jar on him.” - -Meanwhile, down below in the shop, Frithiof had forgotten his last -encounter with James Horner, and as he set things in order for the -Saturday afternoon closing, his thoughts were far away. He sorted music -and took down one portfolio after another mechanically, while all the -time it seemed to him that he was wandering with Blanche through the -sweet-scented pine woods, hearing her fresh, clear voice, looking into -the lovely eyes which had stolen his heart. The instant two o’clock -sounded the hour of his release, he snatched up his hat and hurried -away; his dreams of the past had taken so strong a hold upon him that he -felt he must try for at least one more sight of the face that haunted -him so persistently. - -He had touched no food since early morning, but he could no more have -eaten at that moment than have turned aside in some other direction. -Feeling as though some power outside himself were drawing him onward, he -followed with scarcely a thought of the actual way, until he found -himself within sight of the Lancaster Gate House. A striped red and -white awning had been erected over the steps, he caught sight of it -through the trees, and his heart seemed to stand still. Hastily crossing -the wide road leading to the church, he gained a better view of the -pavement in front of Mr. Morgan’s house; dirty little street children -with eager faces were clustered about the railings, and nurse-maids with -perambulators flanked the red felt which made a pathway to the carriage -standing before the door. He turned sick and giddy. - -“Fine doings there, sir,” remarked the crossing-sweeper, who was still -sweeping up the autumn leaves just as he had been doing when Frithiof -had passed him after his interview with Blanche. “They say the bride’s -an heiress and a beauty too. Well, well, it’s an unequal world!” and the -old man stopped to indulge in a paroxysm of coughing, then held out a -trembling hand. - -“Got a copper about you, sir?” he asked. - -Frithiof, just because the old man made that remark about an unequal -world, dropped a sixpence into the outstretched palm. - -“God bless you, sir!” said the crossing-sweeper, beginning to sweep up -the fallen leaves with more spirit than ever. - -“Violets, sir, sweet violets?” cried a girl, whose eye had caught the -gleam of the silver coin. - -She held the basket toward him, but he shook his head and walked -hurriedly away toward the church. Yet the incident never left his -memory, and to the end of his life the scent of violets was hateful to -him. Like one in a nightmare, he reached the church door. The organ was -crashing out a jubilant march; there was a sort of subdued hum of eager -anticipation from the crowd of spectators. - -“Are you a friend of the bride, sir?” asked an official. - -“No,” he said icily. - -“Then the side aisle, if you please, sir. The middle aisle is reserved -for friends only.” - -He quietly took the place assigned him and waited. It did not seem real -to him, the crowded church, the whispering people; all that seemed real -was the horrible sense of expectation. - -“Oh, it will be well worth seeing,” remarked a woman, who sat beside -him, to her companion. “They always manages things well in this place. -The last time I come it was to see Lady Graham’s funeral. Lor’! it was -jest beautiful! After all, there aint nothing that comes up to a real -good funeral. It’s so movin’ to the feelin’s, aint it?” - -An icy numbness crept over him, a most appalling feeling of isolation. -“This is like dying,” he thought to himself. And then, because the -congregation stood up, he too dragged himself to his feet. The march had -changed to a hymn. White-robed choristers walked slowly up the middle -aisle; their words reached him distinctly: - - “Still in the pure espousal, - Of Christian man and maid.” - -Then suddenly he caught sight of the face which had more than once been -pressed to his, of the eyes which had lured him on so cruelly. It was -only for a moment. She passed by with her attendant bride-maids, and -black darkness seemed to fall upon him, though he stood there outwardly -calm, just like an indifferent spectator. - -“Did you see her?” exclaimed his neighbor. “My! aint she jest pretty! -Satin dress, aint it?” - -“No, bless your heart! not satin,” replied the other. “’Twas brocade, -and a guinea a yard, I shouldn’t wonder.” - -Yet through all the whispering and the subdued noise of the great -congregation he could hear Blanche’s clear voice. “I will always trust -you,” she had said to him on Munkeggen. Now he heard her answer “I will” -to another question. - -After that, prayers and hymns seemed all mixed up in a wild confusion. -Now and then, between the heads of the crowd, he caught a vision of a -slim, white-robed figure, and presently Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” -was struck up, and he knew that she would pass down the aisle once more. -Would her face be turned in his direction? Yes; for a little child -scattered flowers before her, and she glanced round at it with a happy, -satisfied smile. As for Frithiof, he just stood there passively, and no -one watching him could have known of the fierce anguish that wrung his -heart. As a matter of fact, nobody observed him at all; he was a mere -unit in the crowd; and with human beings all round him, yet in absolute -loneliness, he passed out of the church into the chill autumnal air, to - - “Take up his burden of life again, - Saying only, ‘It might have been.’” - - - - - CHAPTER XIV. - - -The cemetery just outside the Stadsport at Bergen, which had called -forth the eager admiration of Blanche Morgan in the previous summer, -looked perhaps even lovelier now that winter had come with its soft, -white shroud. The trees, instead of their green leaves, stretched out -rime-laden branches against the clear, frosty sky; the crosses on the -graves were fringed with icicles, which, touched here and there by the -lovely rays of the setting sun, shone ruby-red, or in the shade gleamed -clear as diamonds against the background of crisp white snow. Away in -the distance Ulriken reared his grand old head majestically, a dark -streak of precipitous rock showing out now and then through the veil -which hid his summer face; and to the right, in the valley, the pretty -Lungegaarsvand was one great sheet of ice, over which skaters glided -merrily. - -The body of Sigurd Falck rested beside that of his wife in the midst of -all this loveliness, and one winter afternoon Sigrid and little Swanhild -came to bring to the grave their wreaths and crosses, for it was their -father’s birthday. They had walked from their uncle’s house laden with -all the flowers they had been able to collect, and now stood at the gate -of the cemetery, which opened stiffly, owing to the frost. Sigrid looked -older and even sadder than she had done in the first shock of her -father’s death, but little Swanhild had just the same fair rosy face as -before, and there was a veiled excitement and eagerness in her manner as -she pushed at the cemetery gate; she was able to take a sort of pleasure -in bringing these birthday gifts, and even had in her heart a keen -satisfaction in the certainty that “their grave” would look prettier -than any of the others. - -“No one else has remembered his birthday,” she said, as they entered the -silent graveyard. “See, the snow is quite untrodden. Sigrid when are -they going to put father’s name on the stone?” and she pointed to the -slanting marble slab which leaned against the small cross. “There is -only mother’s name still. Wont they put a bigger slab instead where -there will be room for both?” - -“Not now,” said Sigrid, her voice trembling. - -“But why not, Sigrid? Every one else has names put. It seems as if we -had forgotten him.” - -“Oh, no, no,” said Sigrid, with a sob. “It isn’t that, darling; it is -that we remember so well, and know what he would have wished about it.” - -“I don’t understand,” said the child wistfully. - -“It is in this way,” said Sigrid, taking her hand tenderly. “I can not -have money spent on the tombstone, because he would not have liked it. -Oh, Swanhild!—you must know it some day, you shall hear it now—it was -not only his own money that was lost, it was the money of other people. -And till it is paid back how can I alter this?” - -Swanhild’s eyes grew large and bright. - -“It was that, then, that made him die,” she faltered. “He would be so -sorry for the other people. Oh, Sigrid, I will be so good: I don’t think -I shall ever be naughty again. Why didn’t you tell me before, and then I -shouldn’t have been cross because you wouldn’t buy me things?” - -“I wanted to shield you and keep you from knowing,” said Sigrid. “But -after all, it is better that you should hear it from me than from some -outsider.” - -“You will treat me like a baby, Sigrid, and I’m ten years old after -all—quite old enough to be told things.... And oh, you’ll let me help to -earn money and pay back the people, wont you?” - -“That is what Frithiof is trying to do,” said Sigrid, “but it is so -difficult and so slow. And I can’t think of anything we can do to help.” - -“Poor dear old Frithiof,” said Swanhild. And she gazed over the frozen -lake to the snow mountains which bounded the view, as if she would like -to see right through them into the big London shop where, behind a -counter, there stood a fair-haired Norseman toiling bravely to pay off -those debts of which she had just heard. “Why, on father’s last two -birthdays Frithiof was away in Germany, but then we were looking forward -so to having him home again. There’s nothing to look forward to now.” - -Sigrid could not reply, for she felt choked. She stood sadly watching -the child as she bent down, partly to hide her tears, partly to replace -a flower which had slipped out of one of the wreaths. It was just that -sense of having nothing to look forward to which had weighed so heavily -on Sigrid herself all these months; she had passed very bravely through -all the troubles as long as there had been anything to do; but now that -all the arrangements were made, the villa in Kalvedalen sold, the -furniture disposed of, the new home in her uncle’s house grown familiar, -her courage almost failed her, and each day she realized more bitterly -how desolate and forlorn was their position. The first sympathetic -kindness of her aunt and cousins had, moreover, had time to fade a -little, and she became growingly conscious that their adoption into the -Grönvold family was an inconvenience. The house was comfortable but not -too large, and the two sisters occupied the only spare room, so that it -was no longer possible to have visitors. The income was fairly good, but -times were hard, and even before their arrival Fru Grönvold had begun to -practice a few little economies, which increased during the winter, and -became more apparent to all the family. This was depressing enough: and -then, as Swanhild had said, there was nothing to which she could look -forward, for Frithiof’s prospects seemed to her altogether blighted, and -she foresaw that all he was likely to earn for some time to come would -only suffice to keep himself, and could by no possibility support three -people. Very sadly she left the cemetery, pausing again to struggle with -the stiff gate, while Swanhild held the empty flower-baskets. - -“Can’t you do it?” exclaimed the child. “What a tiresome gate it is! -worse to fasten than to unfasten. But see! here come the Lundgrens. They -will help.” - -Sigrid glanced round, blushing vividly as she met the eager eyes of -Torvald Lundgren, one of Frithiof’s school friends. The greetings were -frank and friendly on both sides, and Madale, a tall, pretty girl of -sixteen, with her hair braided into one long, thick plait, took little -Swanhild’s arm and walked on with her. - -“Let us leave those two to settle the gate between them,” she said, -smiling. “It is far too cold to wait for them.” - -Now Torvald Lundgren was a year or two older than Frithiof, and having -long been in a position of authority he was unusually old for his age. -As a friend Sigrid liked him, but of late she had half-feared that he -wished to be more than a friend, and consequently she was not well -pleased to see that, by the time the gate was actually shut, Madale and -Swanhild were far in advance of them. - -“Have you heard from Frithiof yet?” she asked, walking on briskly. - -“No,” said Torvald. “Pray scold him well for me when you next write. How -does he seem? In better spirits again?” - -“I don’t know,” said Sigrid; “even to me he writes very seldom. It is -wretched having him so far away and not knowing what is happening to -him.” - -“I wish there was anything I could do for him,” said Torvald; “but there -seems no chance of any opening out here for him.” - -“That is what my uncle says. Yet it was no fault of Frithiof’s: it seems -hard that he should have to suffer. I think the world is very cruel. You -and Madale were almost the only friends who stood by us; you were almost -the only ones who scattered fir branches in the road on the morning of -my father’s funeral.” - -“You noticed that?” he said, coloring. - -“Yes; when I saw how little had been strewn, I felt hurt and sore to -think that the others had shown so little respect for him, and grateful -to you and Madale.” - -“Sigrid,” he said quietly, “why will you not let me be something more to -you than a friend? All that I have is yours. You are not happy in Herr -Grönvold’s house. Let me take care of you. Come and make my house happy, -and bring Swanhild with you to be my little sister.” - -“Oh, Torvald!” she cried, “I wish you had not asked me that. You are so -good and kind, but—but—” - -“Do not answer me just yet, then; take time to think it over,” he -pleaded; “indeed I would do my best to make you very happy.” - -“I know you would,” she replied, her eyes filling with tears. “But yet -it could never be. I could never love you as a wife should love her -husband, and I am much too fond of you, Torvald, to let you be married -just for your comfortable house.” - -“Your aunt led me to expect that, perhaps, in time, after your first -grief had passed—” - -“Then it was very wrong of her,” said Sigrid hotly. “You have always -been my friend—a sort of second brother to me—and oh, do let it be so -still. Don’t leave off being my friend because of this, for indeed I can -not help it.” - -“My only wish is to help you,” he said sadly; “it shall be as you would -have it.” - -And then they walked on together in an uncomfortable silence until they -overtook the others at Herr Grönvold’s gate, where Torvald grasped her -hand for a moment, then, looking at his watch, hurried Madale away, -saying that he should be late for some appointment. - -Fru Grönvold had unluckily been looking out of the window and had seen -the little group outside. She opened the front door as the two girls -climbed the steps. - -“Why did not the Lundgrens come in?” she asked, a look of annoyance -passing over her thin, worn face. - -“I didn’t ask them,” said Sigrid, blushing. - -“And I think Torvald had some engagement,” said Swanhild, unconsciously -coming to the rescue. - -“You have been out a long time, Swanhild; now run away to your -practicing,” said Fru Grönvold, in the tone which the child detested. -“Come in here, Sigrid, I want a word with you.” - -Fru Grönvold had the best of hearts, but her manner was unfortunate; -from sheer anxiety to do well by people she often repulsed them. To -Sigrid, accustomed from her earliest girlhood to come and go as she -pleased and to manage her father’s house, this manner was almost -intolerable. She resented interference most strongly, and was far too -young and inexperienced to see, beneath her aunt’s dictatorial tone, the -real kindness that existed. Her blue eyes looked defiant as she marched -into the sitting-room, and drawing off her gloves began to warm her -hands by the stove. - -“Why did you not ask Torvald Lundgren to come in?” asked Fru Grönvold, -taking up her knitting. - -“Because I didn’t want to ask him, auntie.” - -“But you ought to think what other people want, not always of yourself.” - -“I did,” said Sigrid quickly. “I knew he didn’t want to come in.” - -“What nonsense you talk, child!” said Fru Grönvold, knitting with more -vigor than before, as if she vented her impatience upon the sock she was -making. “You must know quite well that Torvald admires you very much; it -is mere affectation to pretend not to see what is patent to all the -world.” - -“I do not pretend,” said Sigrid angrily, “but you—you have encouraged -him to hope, and it is unfair and unkind of you. He told me you had -spoken to him.” - -“What! he has proposed to you?” said Fru Grönvold, dropping her work. -“Did he speak to you to-day, dear?” - -“Yes,” said Sigrid, blushing crimson. - -“And you said you would let him have his answer later on. I see, dear, I -see. Of course you could not ask him in.” - -“I said nothing of the sort,” said Sigrid vehemently. “I told him that I -could never think of marrying him, and we shall still be the good -friends we have always been.” - -“My dear child,” cried Fru Grönvold, with genuine distress in her tone, -“how could you be so foolish, so blind to all your own interests? He is -a most excellent fellow, good and steady and rich—all that heart could -wish.” - -“There I don’t agree with you,” said Sigrid perversely. “I should wish -my husband to be very different. He is just like Torvald in Ibsen’s ‘Et -Dukkehjem,’ we always told him so.” - -“Pray don’t quote that hateful play to me,” said Fru Grönvold. “Every -one knows that Ibsen’s foolish ideas about women being equal to men and -sharing their confidence could only bring misery and mischief. Torvald -Lundgren is a good, upright, honorable man, and your refusing him is -most foolish.” - -“He is very good, I quite admit,” said Sigrid. “He is my friend, and has -been always, and will be always. But if he were the only man on earth -nothing would induce me to marry him. It would only mean wretchedness -for us both.” - -“Well, pray don’t put your foolish notions about equality and ideal love -into Karen’s head,” said Fru Grönvold sharply. “Since you are so stupid -and unpractical it will be well that Karen should accept the first good -offer she receives.” - -“We are not likely to discuss the matter,” said Sigrid, and rising to -her feet she hurriedly left the room. - -Upstairs she ran, choking with angry tears, her aunt’s last words -haunting her persistently and inflicting deeper wounds the more she -dwelt upon them. - -“She wants me to marry him so that she may be rid of the expense of -keeping us,” thought the poor girl. “She doesn’t really care for us a -bit, for all the time she is grudging the money we cost her. But I wont -be such a bad friend to poor Torvald as to marry him because I am -miserable here. I would rather starve than do that. Oh! how I hate her -maxims about taking what you can get! Why should love and equality and a -true union lead to misery and mischief? It is the injustice of lowering -woman into a mere pleasant housekeeper that brings half the pain of the -world, it seems to me.” - -But by the time Sigrid had lived through the long evening, bearing, as -best she might, the consciousness of her aunt’s disappointment and -vexation with her, another thought had begun to stir in her heart. And -when that night she went to her room her tears were no longer the tears -of anger, but of a miserable loneliness and desolation. - -She looked at little Swanhild lying fast asleep, and wondered how the -refusal would affect her life. - -“After all,” she thought to herself, “Swanhild would have been happier -had I accepted him. She would have had a much nicer home, and Torvald -would never have let her feel that she was a burden. He would have been -very kind to us both, and I suppose I might have made him happy—as happy -as he would ever have expected to be. And I might have been able to help -Frithiof, for we should have been rich. Perhaps I am losing this chance -of what would be best for every one else just for a fancy. Oh, what am I -to do? After all, he would have been very kind, and here they are not -really kind. He would have taken such care of me, and it would surely be -very nice to be taken care of again.” - -And then she began to think of her aunt’s words, and to wonder whether -there might not be some truth in them, so that by the time the next day -had dawned she had worried herself into a state of confusion, and had -Torvald Lundgren approached her again might really have accepted him -from some puzzle-headed notion of the duty of being practical and always -considering others before yourself. Fortunately Torvald did not appear, -and later in the morning she took her perplexities to dear old Fru -Askevold, the pastor’s wife, who having worked early and late for her -ten children, now toiled for as many grandchildren, and into the bargain -was ready to be the friend of any girl who chose to seek her out. In -spite of her sixty years she had a bright, fresh-colored face, with a -look of youth about it which contrasted curiously with her snowy hair. -She was little, and plump and had a brisk, cheerful way of moving about -which somehow recalled to one— - - “The bird that comes about our doors - When autumn winds are sobbing, - The Peter of Norway boors, - Their Thomas in Finland, - And Russia far inland. - The bird, who by some name or other, - All men who know it call their brother.” - -“Now that is charming of you to come and see me just at the very right -minute, Sigrid,” said Fru Askevold, kissing the girl, whose face, owing -to trouble and sleeplessness, looked more worn than her own. “I’ve just -been cutting out Ingeborg’s new frock, and am wanting to sit down and -rest a little. What do you think of the color! Pretty, isn’t it?” - -“Charming,” said Sigrid. “Let me do the tacking for you.” - -“No, no; you look tired, my child; sit down here by the stove, and I -will tack it together as we chat. What makes those dark patches beneath -your eyes.” - -“Oh, it is nothing. I could not sleep last night, that is all.” - -“Because you were worrying over something. That does not pay, child; -give it up. It’s a bad habit.” - -“I don’t think I can help it,” said Sigrid. “We all of us have a natural -tendency that way. Don’t you remember how Frithiof never could sleep -before an examination?” - -“And you perhaps were worrying your brain about him? Was that it?” - -“Partly,” said Sigrid, looking down and speaking nervously. “You see it -was in this way—I had a chance of becoming rich and well to do, of -stepping into a position which would have made me able to help the -others, and because it did not come up to my own notion of happiness I -threw away the chance.” - -And so little by little and mentioning no name, she put before the -motherly old lady all the facts of the case. - -“Child,” said Fru Askevold, “I have only one piece of advice to give -you—be true to your own ideal.” - -“But then one’s own ideal may be unattainable in this world.” - -“Perhaps, and if so it can’t be helped. But if you mean your marriage to -be a happy one, then be true. Half the unhappy marriages come from -people stooping to take just what they can get. If you accepted this -man’s offer you might be wronging some girl who is really capable of -loving him properly.” - -“Then you mean that some of us have higher ideals than others?” - -“Why, yes, to be sure; it is the same in this as in every thing else, -and what you have to do is just to shut your ears to all the -well-meaning but false maxims of the world, and listen to the voice in -your own heart. Depend upon it, you will be able to do far more for -Frithiof and Swanhild if you are true to yourself than you would be able -to do as a rich woman and an unhappy wife.” - -Sigrid was silent for some moments. - -“Thank you,” she said, at length. “I see things much more clearly now; -last night I could only see things through Aunt Grönvold’s spectacles, -and I think they must be very short-sighted ones.” - -Fru Askevold laughed merrily. - -“That is quite true,” she said. “The marriages brought about by scheming -relatives may look promising enough at first, but in the long run they -always bring trouble and misery. The true marriages are made in heaven, -Sigrid, though folks are slow to believe that.” - -Sigrid went away comforted, yet nevertheless life was not very pleasant -to her just then, for although she had the satisfaction of seeing -Torvald walking the streets of Bergen without any signs of great -dejection in his face, she had all day long to endure the consciousness -of her aunt’s vexation, and to feel in every little economy that this -need not have been practiced had she decided as Fru Grönvold wished. It -was on the whole a very dreary Christmas, yet the sadness was brightened -by one little act of kindness and courtesy which to the end of her life -she never forgot. For after all it is that which is rare that makes a -deep impression on us. The word of praise spoken at the beginning of our -career lingers forever in our hearts with something of the glow of -encouragement and hopefulness which it first kindled there; while the -applause of later years glides off us like water off a duck’s back. The -little bit of kindness shown in days of trouble is remembered when -greater kindness during days of prosperity has been forgotten. - -It was Christmas-eve. Sigrid sat in her cold bedroom, wrapped round in -an eider-down quilt. She was reading over again the letter she had last -received from Frithiof, just one of those short unsatisfying letters -which of late he had sent her. From Germany he had written amusingly -enough, but these London letters often left her more unhappy than they -found her, not so much from anything they said as from what they left -unsaid. Since last Christmas all had been taken away from her, and now -it seemed to her that even Frithiof’s love was growing cold, and her -tears fell fast on the thin little sheet of paper where she had tried so -hard to read love and hope between the lines, and had tried in vain. - -A knock at the door made her dry her eyes hastily, and she was relieved -to find that it was not her Cousin Karen who entered, but Swanhild, with -a sunny face and blue eyes dancing with excitement. - -“Look, Sigrid,” she cried, “here is a parcel which looks exactly like a -present. Do make haste and open it.” - -They cut the string and folded back the paper, Sigrid giving a little -cry of surprise as she saw before her the water-color sketch of Bergen, -which had been her father’s last present to her on the day before his -death. Unable to pay for it, she had asked the proprietor of the shop to -take it back again, and had been relieved by his ready consent. Glancing -quickly at the accompanying note, she saw that it bore his signature. It -ran as follows: - -“MADAME: Will you do me the honor of accepting the water-color sketch of -Bergen chosen by the late Herr Falck in October. At your wish I took -back the picture then and regarded the purchase as though it had never -been made. I now ask you to receive it as a Christmas-gift and a slight -token of my respect for the memory of your father,” etc., etc. - -“Oh!” cried Sigrid, “isn’t that good of him! And how nice of him to wait -for Christmas instead of sending it straight back. Now I shall have -something to send to Frithiof. It will get to him in time for the new -year.” - -Swanhild clapped her hands. - -“What a splendid idea! I had not thought of that. And we shall have it -up here just for Christmas-day. How pretty it is! People are very kind, -I think!” - -And Sigrid felt the little clinging arm round her waist, and as they -looked at the picture together she smoothed back the child’s golden hair -tenderly. - -“Yes,” she said, smiling, “after all, people are very kind.” - - - - - CHAPTER XV. - - -As Preston Askevold had feared, Frithiof bore the troubles much less -easily. He was without Sigrid’s sweetness of nature, without her -patience, and the little touch of philosophic matter-of-factness which -helped her to endure. He was far more sensitive too, and was terribly -handicapped by the bitterness which was the almost inevitable result of -his treatment by Blanche Morgan, a bitterness which stirred him up into -a sort of contemptuous hatred of both God and man. Sigrid, with her -quiet common sense, her rarely expressed but very real faith, struggled -on through the winter and the spring, and in the process managed to grow -and develop; but Frithiof, in his desolate London lodgings, with his -sore heart and rebellious intellect, grew daily more hard and morose. -Had it not been for the Bonifaces he must have gone altogether to the -bad, but the days which he spent every now and then in that quiet, -simple household, where kindness reigned supreme, saved him from utter -ruin. For always through the darkest part of every life there runs, -though we may sometimes fail to see it, this “golden thread of love,” so -that even the worst man on earth is not wholly cut off from God, since -He will, by some means or other, eternally try to draw him out of death -into life. We are astounded now and then to read that some cold-blooded -murderer, some man guilty of a hideous crime, will ask in his last -moments to see a child who loved him devotedly, and whom he also loved. -We are astonished just because we do not understand the untiring heart -of the All-Father who in His goodness often gives to the vilest sinner -the love of a pure-hearted woman or child. So true is the beautiful old -Latin saying, long in the world but little believed, “Mergere nos -patitur, sed non submergere, Christus” (Christ lets us sink may be, but -not drown). - -Just at this time there was only one thing on which Frithiof found any -satisfaction, and that was in the little store of money which by slow -degrees he was able to place in the savings bank. In what way it could -ever grow into a sum large enough to pay his father’s creditors he did -not trouble himself to think, but week by week it did increase, and with -this one aim in life he struggled on, working early and late, and living -on an amount of food which could have horrified an Englishman. Luckily -he had discovered a place in Oxford Street where he could get a good -dinner every day for sixpence, but this was practically his only meal, -and after some months the scanty fare began to tell upon him, so that -even the Miss Turnours noticed that something was wrong. - -“That young man looks to me underfed,” said Miss Caroline one day. “I -met him on the stairs just now, and he seems to me to have grown paler -and thinner. What does he have for breakfast, Charlotte? Does he eat as -well as the other lodgers?” - -“Dear me, no,” said Miss Charlotte. “It’s my belief that he eats nothing -at all but ship’s biscuits. There’s a tin of them up in his room, and a -tin of cocoa, which he makes for himself. All I ever take him is a jug -of boiling water night and morning!” - -“Poor fellow!” said Miss Caroline, sighing a little as she plaited some -lace which must have been washed a hundred times into her dress. - -A delicate carefulness in these little details of dress distinguished -the three ladies—they had inherited it with the spelling of their name -and other tokens of good breeding. - -“I feel sorry for him,” she added. “He always bows very politely when I -meet him, and he is remarkably good-looking, though with a disagreeable -expression.” - -“When one is hungry one seldom looks agreeable,” said Miss Charlotte. “I -wish I had noticed him before,” and she remembered, with a little pang -of remorse, that she had more than once preached to him about his soul, -while all the time she had been too dreamy and unobservant to see what -was really wrong with him. - -“Suppose,” she said timidly, “suppose I were to take him a little of the -stewed American beef we shall have for supper.” - -“Send it up by the girl,” said Miss Turnour, “she is still in the -kitchen. Don’t take it yourself—it would be awkward for both of you.” - -So Miss Charlotte meekly obeyed, and sent up by the shabby servant-girl -a most savory little supper. Unluckily the girl was a pert cockney, and -her loud, abrupt knock at the door in itself irritated Frithiof. - -“Come in,” he said, in a surly tone. - -“Look here,” said the girl, “here’s something to put you in a better -temper. Missus’s compliments, and she begs you’ll accept it,” and she -thrust the tray at him with a derisive grin. - -“Have the goodness to take that down again,” said Frithiof, in a fit of -unreasoning anger. “I’ll not be treated like your mistress’ pet dog.” - -Something in his manner cowed the girl. She beat a hasty retreat, and -was planning how she could manage to eat the despised supper herself, -when at the foot of the stairs she met Miss Charlotte, and her project -was nipped in the bud. - -“It aint no use, miss, ’e wont touch it,” she explained; “’e was as -angry as could be, and says ’e, ‘Take it away. I’ll not be treated like -your mistress’ pet dog,’ says ’e. So, bein’ frightened, I ran downstairs -agen.” - -Miss Charlotte looked troubled, and later on, when as usual she took up -the jug of hot water, she felt nervous and uncomfortable, and her knock -was more timid than ever. However, she had scarcely set down the jug on -the floor when there came sounds of hasty footsteps in the room, and -Frithiof flung open the door. - -“I beg your pardon,” he said. “You meant to be kind, I’m sure, but the -girl was rude, and I lost my temper. I ask your forgiveness.” - -There were both pathetic and comic elements in the little scene; the -meek Miss Charlotte stood trembling as if she had seen a ghost, gazing -up at the tall Norseman who, in the hurry of the moment, had forgotten -to remove the wet towel which, in common with most night-workers, he was -in the habit of tying round his forehead. - -Miss Charlotte stooped to pick up the jug. - -“I am so sorry the girl was rude,” she said. “I wish I had brought it -myself. You see, it was in this way; we all thought you looking so -poorly, and we were having the beef for supper and we thought perhaps -you might fancy some, and—and—” - -“It was very good of you,” he said, touched, in spite of himself, by the -kindness. “I regret what I said, but you must make allowance for a -bad-tempered man with a splitting headache.” - -“Is that the reason you tie it up?” asked Miss Charlotte. - -He laughed and pulled off the towel, passing his hand over the mass of -thick light hair which it had disordered. - -“It keeps it cooler,” he said, “and I can get through more work.” - -She glanced at the table, and saw that it was covered with papers and -books. - -“Are you wise to do so much work after being busy all day?” she said. -“It seems to me that you are not looking well.” - -“It is nothing but headache,” he said. “And the work is the only -pleasure I have in the world.” - -“I was afraid from your looks that you had a hard life,” she said -hesitatingly. - -“It is not hard outwardly. As far as work goes it is easy enough, but -there is a deadly monotony about it.” - -“Ah! if only”—she began. - -He interrupted her. - -“I know quite well what you are going to say—you are going to recommend -me to attend one of those religious meetings where people get so full of -a delightful excitement. Believe me, they would not have the slightest -effect on me. And yet, if you wish it, I will go. It shall be my sign of -penitence for my rudeness just now.” - -Miss Charlotte could not make out whether his smile was sarcastic or -genuine. However, she took him at his word, and the next evening carried -him off to a big brightly lighted hall, to a revivalist meeting, from -which she hoped great things. - -It was a hot June evening. He came there tired with the long day’s work, -and his head felt dull and heavy. Merely out of politeness to his -companion he tried to take some sort of interest in what went on, -stifled his inclination to laugh now and then, and watched the -proceedings attentively, though wearily enough. In front of him rose a -large platform with tiers of seats one above the other. The men and -women seated there had bright-looking faces. Some looked self-conscious -and self-satisfied, several of the women seemed overwrought and -hysterical, but others had a genuine look of content which impressed -him. Down below was a curiously heterogeneous collection of -instruments—cornets, drums, tambourines, trumpets, and pipes. A hymn was -given out, followed by a chorus; the words were solemn, but the tune was -the reverse; still it seemed to please the audience, who sung three -choruses to each verse, the first loud, the second louder, the third a -perfect frenzy of sound, the drums thundering, the tambourines dashing -about wildly, the pipes and cornets at their shrillest, and every one -present singing or shouting with all his might. It took him some time to -recover from the appalling noise, and meantime a woman was praying. He -did not much attend to what she said, but the audience seemed to agree -with her, for every minute or two there was a chorus of fervent “Amens,” -which rolled through the hall like distant thunder. After that the young -man who conducted the meeting read a story out of the Bible, and spoke -well and with a sort of simple directness. There was very little in what -he said, but he meant every word of it. It might have been summed up in -three sentences: “There is only one way of being happy. I have tried it -and have found it answer. All you who haven’t tried it begin at once.” - -But the words which meant much to him conveyed nothing to Frithiof. He -listened, and wondered how a man of his own age could possibly get up -and say such things. What was it he had found? How had he found it? If -the speaker had shown the least sign of vanity his words would have been -utterly powerless; but his quiet positiveness impressed people, and it -was apparent to every one that he believed in a strength which was not -his own. There followed much that seemed to Frithiof monotonous and -undesirable; about thirty people on the platform, one after another, got -up and spoke a few words, which invariably began with “I thank the Lord -I was saved on such and such a night.” He wondered and wondered what the -phrase meant to them, and revolved in his mind all the theological -dogmas he had ever heard of. Suddenly he was startled to find that some -one was addressing him, a hymn was being sung, and there was a good deal -of movement in the hall; people went and came, and an elderly woman had -stepped forward and taken a place beside him. - -“Brother,” she said to him, “are you saved?” - -“Madame,” he replied coldly, “I have not the slightest idea.” - -“Oh, then,” she said, with a little gesture that reminded him of Miss -Charlotte, “let me beg you to come at once to Christ.” - -“Madame,” he said, still in his coldly polite voice, “you must really -excuse me, but I do not know what you mean.” - -She was so much surprised and puzzled by both words and manner that she -hesitated what to reply; and Frithiof, who hated being questioned, took -his hat from the bench, and bowing formally to her, left the hall. In -the street he was joined by Miss Charlotte. - -“Oh!” she exclaimed, “I am so sorry you said that. You will have made -that poor woman so terribly unhappy.” - -“It is all her own fault,” said Frithiof. “Why did she come meddling -with my private affairs? If her belief was real she would have been able -to explain it in a rational way, instead of using phrases which are just -empty words.” - -“You didn’t leave her time to explain. And as to her belief being real, -do you think, if it were not real, that little, frail woman would have -had courage to go twice to prison for speaking in the streets? Do you -think she would have been able to convert the most abandoned thieves, -and induce them to make restitution, paying in week by week what they -could earn to replace what they had stolen?” - -“Does she do that? Then I respect her. When you see her again please -apologize for my abruptness, and tell her that her form of religion is -too noisy for my head and too illogical for my mind.” - -They walked home in silence, Miss Charlotte grieving over the hopeless -failure of the meeting to achieve what she desired. She had not yet -learned that different natures need different kinds of food, and that to -expect Frithiof to swallow the teachings which exactly suited certain -minds was about as sensible as to feed a baby with Thorley’s Food for -Cattle. However, there never yet was an honest attempt to do good which -really failed, though the vast majority fail apparently. It was -impossible that the revivalists’ teaching could ever be accepted by the -Norseman; but their ardent devotion, their practical, aggressive lives, -impressed him not a little, and threw a somewhat disagreeable light over -his own selfishness. Partly owing to this, partly from physical causes, -he felt bitterly out of heart with himself for the next few weeks. In -truth he was thoroughly out of health, and he had not the only power -which can hold irritability in check—the strong restraint of love. -Except a genuine liking for the Bonifaces, he had nothing to take him -out of himself, and he was quite ready to return with interest the -dislike which the other men in the shop felt for him, first on account -of his foreign birth, but chiefly because of his proud manner and hasty -temper. Sometimes he felt that he could bear the life no longer; and at -times, out of his very wretchedness, there sprung up in him a vague pity -for those who were in his own position. As he stood there behind the -counter he would say to himself, “There are thousands and thousands in -this city alone who have day after day to endure this horrible monotony, -to serve the customers who are rude, and the customers who are civil, -the hurried ones who are all impatience, the tiresome ones who dawdle, -the bores, who give you as much trouble as they can, often for nothing. -One day follows another eternally in the same dull round. I am a hundred -times better off than most—there are no hurried meals here, no fines, no -unfairness—and yet what drudgery it is!” - -And as he glanced out at the sunny street and heard the sound of horses’ -hoofs in the road, a wild longing used to seize him for the freedom and -variety of his life in Norway, and the old fierce rebellion against his -fate woke once more in his heart, and made him ready to fly into a rage -on the smallest provocation. - -One day he was sent for to Mr. Boniface’s private room; he was quite -well aware that his manner, even to Roy himself, whom he liked, had been -disagreeable in the extreme, and the thought crossed his mind that he -was going to receive notice to leave. - -Mr. Boniface was sitting at his writing-table, the sunlight fell on his -quiet, refined face, lighted up his white hair and trim beard, and made -his kindly gray eyes brighter than ever. “I wanted a few words with you, -Falck,” he said. “Sit down. It seems to me that you have not been -looking well lately, and I thought perhaps you had better take your -holiday at once instead of the third week in August. I have spoken to -Darnell, and he would be willing to give you his turn and take the later -time. What do you think?” - -“You are very good, sir,” said Frithiof, “but I shall do very well with -the August holiday, and, as a matter of fact, it will only mean that I -shall do more translating.” - -“Would you not do well to go home? Come, think of it, I would give you -three weeks if you want to go to Bergen.” - -Frithiof felt a choking sensation in his throat, because it was of the -old life that he had been dreaming all the morning with a restless, -miserable craving. - -“Thank you,” he said, with an effort, “but I can not go back to Norway.” - -“Now, tell me candidly, Falck, is it the question of expense that -hinders you?” said Mr. Boniface. “Because if it is merely that, I would -gladly lend you the money. You must remember that you have had a great -deal to bear lately, and I think you ought to give yourself a good -rest.” - -“Thank you,” replied Frithiof, “but it is not exactly the expense. I -have money enough in hand to pay for my passage, but I have made up my -mind not to go back till I can clear off the last of the debts of—of our -firm,” he concluded, with a slight quiver in his voice. - -“It is a noble resolution,” said Mr. Boniface, “and I would not for a -moment discourage you. Still you must remember that it is a great -undertaking, and that without good health you can never hope for -success. I don’t think you get enough exercise. Now, why don’t you join -our cricket club?” - -“I don’t play,” said Frithiof. “In Norway we are not great at those -games, or indeed at any kind of exercise for the mere sake of exercise. -That is an idea that one only finds among Englishmen.” - -“Possibly; but living in our climate you would do well to follow our -habits. Come, let me persuade you to join the club. You look to me as if -you needed greater variety.” - -“I will think about it for next year; but just now I have work for Herr -Sivertsen on hand which I can’t put aside,” said Frithiof. - -“Well, then, things must go on as they are for the present,” said Mr. -Boniface; “but at least you can bring your translating down to Rowan -Tree House, and spend your holiday with us.” - -“You are very kind,” said Frithiof, the boyish expression returning to -his face just for a minute. “I shall be only too delighted.” - -And the interview seemed somehow to have done him good, for during the -next few days he was less irritable, and found his work in consequence -less irksome. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI. - - -But the change for the better did not last long, for Frithiof was -without the motive which “makes drudgery divine.” And there was no -denying that the work he had to do was really drudgery. - -It has been the fashion of late years to dwell much on the misery of the -slums, and most of us are quite ready to be stirred into active sympathy -with the abjectly poor, the hungry, or the destitute. It is to be -feared, however, that very few of us have much consideration for the -less romantic, less sensational lives of the middle class, the thousands -who toil for us day after day behind the counter or at the desk. And yet -are their lives one whit less worthy of sympathy? Are they not educated -to a point which makes them infinitely more sensitive? Hood has given us -a magnificent poem on the sorrows of a shirt-maker; but who will take -trouble to find poetry in the sorrows and weariness of shop assistants? -It has been said that the very atmosphere of trade kills romance, that -no poet or novelist would dare to take up such a theme; and yet -everywhere the human heart is the same, and shop-life does not interfere -with the loves and hatreds, the joys and sorrows which make up the life -of every human being, and out of which are woven all the romances which -were ever written. No one would dispute the saying that labor is -worship, yet nevertheless we know well enough that while some work of -itself ennobles the worker, there is other work which has to be ennobled -by the way in which it is done. An artist and a coal-heaver both toil -for the general good, but most people will admit that the coal-heaver is -heavily handicapped. If in the actual work of shop assistants there is a -prosaic monotony, then it is all the more probable that they need our -warmest sympathy, our most thoughtful considerateness, since they -themselves are no machines, but men and women with exactly the same -hopes and desires as the rest of us. It is because we consider them of a -different order that we tolerate the long hours, that we allow women to -stand all day long to serve us, though it has been proved that terrible -diseases are the consequence. It is because we do not in our hearts -believe that they are of the same flesh and blood, that we think with a -sort of contempt of the very people who are brought most directly into -contact with us, and whose hard-working lives often put ours to shame. - -About the middle of July the Bonifaces went down to Devonshire for their -usual summer holiday, and Frithiof found that, as Roy had predicted, Mr. -Horner made himself most disagreeable, and never lost a chance of -interfering. It must be owned that there are few things so trying as -fussiness, particularly in a man, of whom such weakness seems unworthy. -And Mr. Horner was the most fussy mortal on earth. It seemed as if he -called forth all that was bad in Frithiof, and Frithiof also called out -everything that was bad in him. The breach between the two was made much -wider by a most trivial incident. A miserable-looking dog unluckily made -its way into the shop one morning and disturbed Mr. Horner in his -sanctum. - -“What is the meaning of this?” he exclaimed, bearing down upon Frithiof. -“Can you not keep stray curs off the premises? Just now too, with -hydrophobia raging!” And he drove and kicked the dog to the door. - -Now there is one thing which no Norseman can tolerate for a moment, and -that is any sort of cruelty to animals. Frithiof, in his fury, did not -measure his words, or speak as the employed to the employer, and from -that time Mr. Horner’s hatred of him increased tenfold. To add to all -this wretchedness an almost tropical heat set in, London was like a -huge, overheated oven; every day Frithiof found the routine of business -less bearable, every day he was less able to fight against his love for -Blanche, and he rapidly sunk into the state which hard-headed people -flatter themselves is a mere foolish fancy—that most real and trying -form of illness which goes by the name of depression. Again and again he -wrestled with the temptation that had assailed him long ago in Hyde -Park, and each sight of James Horner, each incivility from those he had -to serve, made the struggle harder. - -He was sitting at his desk one morning adding up a column which had been -twice interrupted, and which had three times come to a different result, -when once again the swing-door was pushed open, and a shadow falling -across his account-book warned him that the customer had come to the -song-counter. Annoyed and impatient, he put down his pen and went -forward, forcing up the sort of cold politeness which he assumed now, -and which differed strangely from the bright, genial courtesy, that had -once been part of his nature. - -The customer was evidently an Italian. He was young and strikingly -handsome; when he glanced at you, you felt that he had looked you -through and through, yet that his look was not critical, but kindly; it -penetrated yet at the same time warmed. Beside him was a bright-eyed boy -who looked up curiously at the Norseman, as though wondering how on such -a sunny day any one could wear such a clouded face. - -Now Frithiof was quite in the humor to dislike any one, more especially -a man who was young, handsome, well-dressed, and prosperous-looking; but -some subtle influence crept over him the instant he heard the Italian’s -voice; his hard eyes softened a little, and without being able to -explain it he felt a strong desire to help this man in finding the song -which he had come to inquire about, knowing only the words and the air, -not the name of the composer. Frithiof, who would ordinarily have been -inclined to grumble at the trouble which the search involved, now threw -himself into it heart and soul, and was as pleased as his customer when -after some little time he chanced to find the song. - -“A thousand thanks,” said the Italian warmly. “I am delighted to get -hold of this; it is for a friend who has long wanted to hear it again, -but who was only able to write down the first part of the air.” - -And he compared the printed song with the little bit of manuscript which -he had shown to Frithiof. “Now, was it only a happy fluke that made you -think of Knight’s name?” - -“I know another of his songs, and thought this bore a sort of likeness -to it,” said Frithiof, pleased with his success. - -“You know much more of English music than I do, most likely,” said the -Italian; “yet surely you, too, are a foreigner.” - -“Yes,” replied Frithiof, “I am Norwegian. I have only been here for nine -months, but to try and learn a little about the music is the only -interesting part of this work.” - -The stranger’s sympathetic insight showed him much of the weariness and -discontent and _Heimweh_ which lay beneath these words. - -“Ah, yes,” he said, “I suppose both work and country seem flat and dull -after your life among the fjords and mountains. I know well enough the -depression of one’s first year in a new climate. But courage! the worst -will pass. I have grown to love this England which once I detested.” - -“It is the airlessness of London which depresses one,” said poor -Frithiof, rolling up the song. - -“Yes, it is certainly very oppressive to-day,” said the Italian; “I am -sorry to have given you so much trouble in hunting up this song for me. -We may as well take it with us, Gigi, as we are going home.” - -And then with a pleasant farewell the stranger bowed and went out of the -shop, leaving behind him a memory which did more to prevent the blue -devils from gaining the mastery of Frithiof’s mind than anything else -could possibly have done. When he left, however, at his usual dinner -hour, he was without the slightest inclination to eat, and with a -craving for some relief from the monotony of the glaring streets he -walked up to Regent’s Park, hoping that there perhaps he might find the -fresh air for which he was longing. He thought much of his unknown -customer, half laughing to himself now and then to think that such a -chance encounter should have made upon him so deep an impression, should -have wakened within him desires such as he had never before felt for a -life which should be higher, nobler, more manly than his past. - -“Come along, will you?” shouted a rough voice behind him. He glanced -round and saw an evil-looking tramp who was speaking to a most forlorn -little boy at his heels. - -The child seemed ready to drop, but with a look of misery and fear and -effort most painful to see in such a young face, it hurried on, keeping -up a wretched little sort of trot at the heels of its father, who -tramped on doggedly. Frithiof was not in the habit of troubling himself -much about those he came across in life, his heart had been too much -embittered by Blanche’s treatment, he had got into the way now of -looking on coldly and saying with a shrug of the shoulders that it was -the way of the world. But to-day the magical influence of a noble life -was stirring within him; a man utterly unknown to him had spoken to him -a few kindly words, had treated him with rare considerateness, had -somehow raised him into a purer atmosphere. And so it happened that he, -too, began to feel something of the same divine sympathy, and to forget -his own wretchedness in the suffering of the little child. Presently the -tramp paused outside a public-house. - -“Wait for me there in the park,” he said to the child, giving it a push -in the direction. - -And the little fellow went on obediently, until, just at the gate, he -caught sight of a costermonger’s barrow on which cool green leaves and -ripe red strawberries were temptingly displayed. Frithiof lingered a -minute to see what would happen, but nothing happened at all, the child -just stood there patiently. There was no expectation on his tired little -face, nothing but intense appreciation of a luxury which must forever be -beyond his hopes of enjoyment. - -“Have you ever tasted them?” said Frithiof, drawing nearer. - -The boy shook his head shyly. - -“Would you like to?” - -Still he did not speak, but a look of rapture dawned in the wistful -child eyes, and he gave a little spring in the air which was more -eloquent than words. - -“Six-pennyworth,” said Frithiof to the costermonger; then signing to the -child to follow, he led the way into the park, sat down on the nearest -seat, put the basket of strawberries down beside him, and glanced at his -little companion. - -“There, now, sit down by me and enjoy them,” he said. - -And the child needed no second bidding, but began to eat with an eager -delight which was pleasant to see. After awhile he paused, however, and -shyly pushed the basket a little nearer to his benefactor. Frithiof, -absorbed in his own thoughts, did not notice it, but presently became -conscious of a small brown hand on his sleeve, and looked round. - -“Eat too,” said the child, pointing to the basket. - -And Frithiof, to please him, smiled and took two or three strawberries. - -“There, the rest are for you,” he said. “Do you like them?” - -“Yes,” said the child emphatically; “and I like you.” - -“Why do you like me?” - -“I was tired, and you was kind to me, and these is real jammy!” - -But after this fervent little speech, he said no more. He did not, as a -Norwegian child would have done, shake hands as a sign of gratitude, or -say in the pretty Norse way, “_Tak for maden_” (thanks for the meal); -there had never been any one to teach him the expression of the -courtesies of life, and with him they were not innate. He merely looked -at his friend with shining eyes like some animal that feels but cannot -speak its gratitude. Then before long the father reappeared, and the -little fellow with one shy nod of the head ran off, looking back -wistfully every now and then at the stranger who would be remembered by -him to the very end of his life. - -The next day something happened which added the last drops to Frithiof’s -cup of misery, and made it overflow. The troubles of the past year, and -the loneliness and poverty which he had borne, had gradually broken down -his health, and there came to him now a revelation which proved the -final blow. He was dining at his usual restaurant. Too tired to eat -much, he had taken up a bit of one of the society papers which some one -had left there, and his eye fell on one of those detestable paragraphs -which pander to the very lowest tastes of the public. No actual name was -given, but every one knowing anything about her could not fail to see -that Blanche Romiaux was the woman referred to. The most revolting -insinuations, the most contemptible gossip, ended with the words, “An -interesting divorce case may soon be expected.” - -Frithiof grew deathly white. He tried to believe that it was all a lie, -tried to work himself up into a rage against the editor of the paper, -tried to assure himself that, whatever Blanche might have been before -marriage, after it she must necessarily become all that was womanly and -pure. But deep down in his heart there lurked a fearful conviction that -in the main this story was true. Feeling sick and giddy, he made his way -along Oxford Street, noticing nothing, walking like a man in a dream. -Just in front of Buzzard’s a victoria was waiting, and a remarkably -good-looking man stood on the pavement talking to its occupant. Frithiof -would have passed by without observing them had not a familiar voice -startled him into keen consciousness. He looked up hastily and saw Lady -Romiaux—not the Blanche who had won his heart in Norway, for the lips -that had once been pressed to his wore a hard look of defiance, and the -eyes that had insnared him had now an expression that confirmed only too -well the story he had just read. He heard her give a little artificial -laugh in which there was not even the ghost of merriment, and after that -it seemed as if a great cloud had descended on him. He moved on -mechanically, but it was chiefly by a sort of instinct that he found his -way back to the shop. - -“Good heavens, Mr. Falck! how ill you are looking!” exclaimed the head -man as he glanced at him. “It’s a good thing Mr. Robert will be back -again soon. If I’m not very much mistaken, he’ll put you into the -doctor’s hands.” - -“Oh, it is chiefly this hot weather,” said Frithiof, and as if anxious -to put an end to the conversation, he turned away to his desk and began -to write, though each word cost him a painful effort, and seemed to be -dragged out of him by sheer force. At tea-time he wandered out in the -street, scarcely knowing what he was doing, and haunted always by -Blanche’s sadly altered face. When he returned he found that the boy who -dusted the shop had spilled some ink over his order-book, whereupon he -flew into one of those violent passions to which of late he had been -liable, so entirely losing his self-control that those about him began -to look alarmed. This recalled him to himself, and much disgusted at -having made such a scene, he sunk into a state of black depression. He -could not understand himself; could not make out what was wrong; could -not conceive how such a trifle could have stirred him into such -senseless rage. He sat, pen in hand, too sick and miserable to work, and -with a wild confusion of thoughts rushing through his brain. He was -driving along the Strand-gaden with Blanche, and talking gayly of the -intense enjoyment of mere existence; he was rowing her on the fjord, and -telling her the Frithiof Saga; he was saving her on the mountain, and -listening to her words of love; he was down in the sheltered nook below -the flagstaff at Balholm, and she was clinging to him in the farewell -which had indeed been forever. - -“I can bear it no longer,” he said to himself. “I have tried to bear -this life, but it’s no use—no use.” - -Yet after a while there rose within him a thought which checked the -haunting visions of failure and the longing for death. He remembered the -face which had so greatly struck him the day before, and again those -kindly words rang in his ear, “Courage! the worst will pass.” - -Who was this man? What gave him his extraordinary influence? How had he -gained his insight, and sympathy, and fearless brightness? If one man -had attained to all this, why not any man? Might not life still hold for -him something that was worth having? There floated back to him the -remembrance of the last pleasurable moment he had known—it was the sight -of the child’s enjoyment of the strawberries. - -At length closing-time came. He dragged himself back to Vauxhall, shut -himself into his dreary little room, pulled the table toward the open -window, and began to work at Herr Sivertsen’s translating. Night after -night he had gone on, with the dogged courage of his old Viking -ancestors, upheld by the same fierce, fighting nature which had made -them the terror of the North. But at last he was at the very end of his -strength. A violent shivering fit seized him. Work was no longer -possible; he could only stagger to the bed, with that terrible -consciousness of being utterly and hopelessly beaten, which to a man is -so hard to bear. - -Oppressed by a frightful sense of loneliness, dazed by physical pain, -and tortured by the thought of Blanche’s disgrace, there was yet one -thing which gave him moments of relief—like a child he strained his eyes -to see the picture of Bergen which hung by the bedside. - -Later on, when the summer twilight deepened into night, and he could no -longer make out the harbor, and the shipping, and the familiar -mountains, he buried his face in the pillow and sobbed aloud, in a -forlorn misery which, even in Paradise, must have wrung his mother’s -heart. - -Roy Boniface came back from Devonshire the following day, his holiday -being shortened by a week on account of the illness of Mrs. Horner’s -uncle. As there was every reason to expect a legacy from this aged -relative, Mr. Horner insisted on going down at once to see whether they -could be of any use; and since the shop was never left without one of -the partners, poor Roy, anathematizing the whole race of the Horners, -had to come back and endure as best he might a London August and an -empty house. - -Like many other business men, he relieved the monotony of his daily work -by always keeping two or three hobbies in hand. The mania for collecting -had always been encouraged at Rowan Tree House, and just now botany was -his keenest delight. It was even perhaps absorbing too much of his time, -and Cecil used laughingly to tell him that he loved it more than all the -men and women in the world put together. He was contentedly mounting -specimens on the night of his return, when James Horner looked in, the -prospective legacy making him more than ever fussy and pompous. - -“Ah, so you have come: that’s all right!” he exclaimed. “I had hoped you -would have come round to us. However, no matter; I don’t know that there -is anything special to say, and of course this sad news has upset my -wife very much.” - -“Ah,” said Roy, somewhat skeptical in his heart of hearts about the -depth of her grief. “We were sorry to hear about it.” - -“We go down the first thing to-morrow,” said James Horner, “and shall, -of course, stay on. They say there is no hope of recovery.” - -“What do you think of that?” said Roy, pointing to a very minute flower -which he had just mounted. “It is the first time it has ever been found -in England.” - -“H’m, is it really?” said James Horner, regarding it with that would-be -interested air, that bored perplexity, which Roy took a wicked delight -in calling forth. “Well, you know, I don’t understand,” he added, “how a -practical man like you can take an interest in such trumpery bits of -things. What are your flowers worth when you’ve done them? Now, if you -took to collecting autographs, there’d be some sense in that, for I -understand that a fine collection of autographs fetches a good round sum -in the market.” - -“That would only involve more desk-work,” said Roy, laughing. “Writing -to ask for them would bore me as much as writing in reply must bore the -poor celebrities.” - -“By the by,” said Mr. Horner, “I have just remembered to tell you that -provoking fellow, Falck, never turned up to-day. He never even had the -grace to send word that he wasn’t coming.” - -“Of course he must be ill,” said Roy, looking disturbed. “He is the last -fellow to stay away if he could possibly keep up. We all thought him -looking ill before he left.” - -“I don’t know about illness,” said James Horner, putting on his hat; -“but he certainly has the worst temper I’ve ever come across. It was -extremely awkward without him to-day, for already we are short of -hands.” - -“There can hardly be much doing,” said Roy. “London looks like a desert. -However, of course I’ll look up Falck. I dare say he’ll be all right -again by to-morrow.” - -But he had scarcely settled himself down comfortably to his work after -James Horner’s welcome departure when the thought of Frithiof came to -trouble him. After all, was it likely that a mere trifle would hinder a -man of the Norwegian’s nature from going to business? Was it not much -more probable that he was too ill even to write an excuse? And if so, -how helpless and desolate he would be! - -Like most people, Roy was selfish. Had he lived alone he would have -become more selfish every day; but it was impossible to live in the -atmosphere of Rowan Tree House without, at any rate, trying to consider -other people. With an effort he tore himself away from his beloved -specimens, and set off briskly for Vauxhall, where, after some -difficulty, he found the little side street in which, among dozens of -others precisely like it, was the house of the three Miss Turnours. - -A little withered-up lady opened the door to him, and replied nervously -to his question. - -“Mr. Falck is ill,” she said. “He seems very feverish; but he was like -it once before, when he first came to England, and it passed off in a -day or two.” - -“Can I see him?” said Roy. - -“Well, he doesn’t like being disturbed at all,” said Miss Charlotte. -“He’ll hardly let me inside the room. But if you would just see him, I -should really be glad. You will judge better if he should see the doctor -or not.” - -“Thank you, I’ll go up then. Don’t let me trouble you.” - -“It is noise he seems to mind so much,” said Miss Charlotte. “So if you -will find your way up alone, perhaps it would be best. It is the first -door you come to at the top of the last flight of stairs.” - -Roy went up quietly, opened the door as noiselessly as he could, and -went in. The window faced the sunset, so that the room was still fairly -light, and the utter discomfort of everything was fully apparent. - -“I wish you wouldn’t come in again,” said an irritable voice from the -bed. “The lightest footstep is torture.” - -“I just looked in to ask how you were,” said Roy, much shocked to see -how ill his friend seemed. - -“Oh, it’s you!” said Frithiof, turning his flushed face in the direction -of the speaker. “Thank God, you’ve come! That woman will be the death of -me. She does nothing but ask questions.” - -“I’ve only just got back from Devonshire, but they said you hadn’t -turned up to-day, and I thought I would come and see after you.” - -Frithiof dragged himself up and drank feverishly from the ewer which -stood on a chair beside him. - -“I tried to come this morning,” he said, “but I was too giddy to stand, -and had to give it up. My head’s gone wrong somehow.” - -“Poor fellow! you should have given up before,” said Roy. “You seem in -terrible pain.” - -“Yes, yes; it’s like a band of hot iron,” moaned poor Frithiof. Then -suddenly starting up in wild excitement, “There’s Blanche! there’s -Blanche! Let me go to her! Let me go! I will see her once more—only this -once!” - -Roy with some difficulty held him down, and after awhile he seemed to -come to himself. “Was I talking nonsense?” he said. “It’s a horrid -feeling not being able to control one’s self. If I go crazy you can just -let me die, please. Life’s bad enough now, and would be intolerable -then. There she is again! She’s smiling at me. Oh, Blanche—you did care -once. Come back! Come back! He can’t love you as I love! But it’s no -use—no use! she is worse than dead. I tell you I saw it in that cursed -paper, and I saw it in her own face. Why, one might have known! All -women are like it. What do they dare so long as their vanity is -satisfied? It’s just as Björnsen says: - - “‘If thou hadst not so smiled on me, - Now I should not thus weep for thee.’” - -And then he fell into incoherent talk, chiefly in Norwegian, but every -now and then repeating the English rendering of Björnsen’s lines. - -Meanwhile Roy turned over in his mind half a dozen schemes, and at -length decided to leave Frithiof during one of the quiet intervals, -while he went for their own doctor, Miss Charlotte mounting guard -outside the door, and promising to go to him if he seemed to need care. - -Dr. Morris, who was an old friend, listened to Roy’s description, and -returned with him at once, much to the relief of poor Miss Charlotte, -who was frightened out of her senses by one of Frithiof’s paroxysms of -wild excitement. - -“Do you think seriously of him?” said Roy, when, the excitement having -died down, Frithiof lay in a sort of stupor, taking no notice at all of -his surroundings. - -“If we can manage to get him any sleep he will pull through all right,” -said Dr. Morris, in his abrupt way. “If not, he will sink before many -days. You had better send for his mother, if he has one.” - -“He has only a sister, and she is in Norway.” - -“Well, send for her, for he will need careful nursing. You say you will -take charge of him? Very well; and to-morrow morning I will send in a -nurse, who will set you at liberty for a few hours. Evidently he has had -some shock. Can you make out what it was at all?” - -“Well; last autumn, I believe—indeed, I am sure—he was jilted by an -English girl with whom he was desperately in love. It all came upon the -top of the other troubles of which I told you.” - -“And what is this paper he raves about? What is the girl’s name? We -might get some clew in that way.” - -“Oh,” said Roy, “she was married some months ago. She is now Lady -Romiaux.” - -The doctor gave a stifled exclamation. - -“That explains all. I suppose the poor fellow honestly cared for her, -and was shocked to see the paragraph in this week’s _Idle Time_. Your -friend has had a narrow escape, if he could but see it in that light. -For the husband of that heartless little flirt must be the most -miserable man alive. We shall soon have another of those detestable -_causes célèbres_, and the newspapers lying about in every household -will be filled with all the poisonous details.” - -As Roy kept watch through the long nights and days that followed, as he -listened to the delirious ravings of his patient, and perceived how a -man’s life and health had been ruined by the faithlessness of a vain -girl, he became so absorbed in poor Frithiof, so devoted to him, that he -altogether forgot his specimens and his microscope. He wondered greatly -how many victims had been sacrificed to Blanche Romiaux’s selfish love -of admiration, and he longed to have her in that room, and point to the -man who tossed to and fro in sleepless misery, and say to her, “This is -what your hateful flirting has brought about.” - -But the little Norwegian episode had entirely passed out of Lady -Romiaux’s mind. Had she been questioned she would probably have replied -that her world contained too many hard realities to leave room for the -recollection of mere dreams. - -The dream, however, had gone hard with Frithiof. Sleeping draughts had -no effect on him, and his temperature remained so high that Dr. Morris -began to fear the worst. - -Roy used to be haunted by the thought that he had telegraphed for Sigrid -Falck, and that he should have to meet her after her long journey with -the news that all was over. And remembering the bright face and sunny -manner of the Norwegian girl, his heart failed him at the thought of her -desolation. But Frithiof could not even take in the idea that she had -been sent for. Nothing now made any difference to him. Sleep alone could -restore him. But sleep refused to come, and already the death-angel -hovered near, ready to give him the release for which he so greatly -longed. - - - - - CHAPTER XVII. - - -Although it was the middle of August, a bitterly cold wind blew round -the dreary little posting station of Hjerkin, on the Dovrefield, and at -the very time when Frithiof lay dying in the intolerable heat of London, -Sigrid, shivering with cold, paced drearily along the bleak mountain -road with her aunt. They had come to the Dovrefield a fortnight before -for the summer holiday, but the weather had been unfavorable, and away -from home, with nothing very particular to occupy their time, Fru -Grönvold and Sigrid seemed to jar upon each other more than ever. -Apparently the subject they were discussing was not at all to the girl’s -taste, for as they walked along there were two ominous little -depressions in her forehead, nor did her black fur hat entirely account -for the shadow that overspread her face. - -“Yes,” said Fru Grönvold emphatically, “I am sorry to have to say such a -thing of you, Sigrid, but it really seems to me that you are playing the -part of the dog in the manger. You profess absolute indifference to -every man you meet, yet you go on absorbing attention, and standing in -Karen’s light, in a way which I assure you is very trying to me.” - -Sigrid’s cheek flamed. - -“I have done nothing to justify you in saying such a thing,” she said -angrily. - -“What!” cried Fru Grönvold. “Did not that Swedish botanist talk to you -incessantly? Does not the English officer follow you about whenever he -has the opportunity?” - -“The botanist talked because we had a subject in common,” replied -Sigrid. “And probably the officer prefers talking to me because my -English is more fluent than Karen’s.” - -“And that I suppose was the reason that you must be the one to teach him -the _spring dans_? And the one to sing him the ‘Bridal Song of the -Hardanger’?” - -“Oh!” exclaimed Sigrid, with an impatient little stamp of the foot, “am -I to be forever thinking of this wretched scheming and match-making? Can -I not even try to amuse a middle-aged Englishman who is disappointed of -his reindeer, and finds himself stranded in a dreary little inn with a -handful of foreigners? I have only been courteous to him—nothing more; -and if I like talking to him it is merely because he comes from -England.” - -“I don’t wish to be hard on you,” said Fru Grönvold, “but naturally I -have the feelings of a mother, and do not like to see Karen eclipsed. I -accuse you of nothing worse, my dear, than a slight forwardness—a little -deficiency in tact. There is no occasion for anger on your part.” - -Sigrid bit her lip hard to keep back the retort that she longed to make, -and they walked in silence toward the little cluster of wooden buildings -on the hill-side, the lowest of which contained the bedrooms, while -further up the hill the kitchen and dining-room stood on one side of the -open courtyard, and on the other the prettily arranged public -sitting-room. In warm weather Hjerkin is a little paradise, but on this -windy day, under a leaden sky, it seemed the most depressing place on -earth. - -“I shall go in and write to Frithiof,” said Sigrid, at length. And -escaping gladly from Fru Grönvold, she ran up to her room. - -“Here we are at Hjerkin,” she wrote, “for a month, and it is more -desolate than I can describe to you, uncle and Oscar out shooting all -day long, and scarcely a soul to speak to, for most of the English have -been driven away by the bad weather, and two girls from Stockholm who -were here for their health are leaving this afternoon, unable to bear -the dullness any longer. If something doesn’t happen soon I think I -shall grow desperate. But surely something will happen. We can’t be -meant to go on in this wretched way, apart from each other. I am -disappointed that you think there is no chance of any opening for me in -London. If it were not for Swanhild I think I should try for work—any -sort of work except teaching—at Christiania. But I can’t bear to leave -her, and uncle would object to my trying for anything of the sort in -Bergen. I can’t help thinking of the old times when we were children, -and of the summer holidays then. Don’t you remember when we had the -island all to ourselves, and used to rush down the fir-hill, and -frighten poor old Gro?” - - * * * * * - -She stopped writing because the thought of those past days had blinded -her with tears, and because the longing for her father’s presence had -overwhelmed her; they had been so much to each other that there was not -an hour in the day when she did not miss him. The dreary wind howling -and whistling round the little wooden house seemed to harmonize only too -well with her sadness, and when the unwelcome supper-bell began to ring -she wrapped her shawl about her, and climbed the steep path to the -dining-room, slowly and reluctantly, with a look on her pale face which -it was sad to see in one so young. - -Swanhild came dancing to meet her. - -“Major Brown has got us such beautiful trout for supper, Sigrid, and -uncle says I may go out fishing, too, some day. And you’ll come with us, -wont you?” - -“You had better take Karen,” said Sigrid listlessly. “You know I never -did care much for fishing. You shall catch them and I will eat them,” -she added, with a dreary little smile. And throughout supper she hardly -spoke, and at the first opportunity slipped away quietly, only, however, -to be pursued by Swanhild. - -“What is the matter?” said the child, slipping her arm round her -sister’s waist. “Are you not coming to the sitting-room?” - -“No,” said Sigrid, “I am tired, and it is so cold in there. I am going -into the kitchen to buy some stamps. Frithiof’s letter ought to go -to-morrow.” - -As she spoke she opened the door of the roomy old kitchen, which is the -pride of Hjerkin. Its three windows were shaded by snowy muslin -curtains; its spotless floor was strewn with juniper; the walls, painted -a peacock-blue, were hung with bright dish-covers, warming-pans, quaint -old bellows and kitchen implements. There was a tall old clock in a -black and gold case, a pretty corner cupboard in shaded brown, and a -huge, old-fashioned cabinet with cunning little drawers and nooks and -corners, all painted in red and blue and green, with an amount of -gilding which gave it quite an Eastern look. - -“Ah, how cozy the fire looks!” cried Swanhild, crossing over to the -curious old grate which filled the whole of one corner of the room, and -which certainly did look very tempting with its bright copper kettles -and saucepans all glowing in the ruddy light. - -“Bless your heart,” said the kind old landlady, “sit down and warm -yourself.” - -And one of the white-sleeved servant-girls brought a little chair which -stood by a long wooden settle, and put it close by the fire for the -child, and Sigrid, her purchase made, joined the little group, and sat -silently warming her hands, finding a sort of comfort in the mere -physical heat, and in the relief of being away from her aunt. The -landlady told Swanhild stories, and Sigrid listened dreamily, letting -her thoughts wander off now and then to Frithiof, or back into the far -past, or away into the future which looked so dreary. Still the kindness -of these people, and the interest and novelty of her glimpse into a -different sort of life, warmed her heart and cheered her a little. -Sitting there in the firelight she felt more at home than she had done -for many months. - -“Come, Swanhild,” she said at last reluctantly, “it is ten o’clock, and -time you were in bed.” - -And thanking the landlady for her kindness, the two sisters crossed over -the courtyard to the sitting-room, where Fru Grönvold was watching the -progress of a rubber in which Karen was Major Brown’s partner, and had -just incurred his wrath by revoking. - -“Where in the world have you been?” said Fru Grönvold, knitting -vehemently. “We couldn’t think what had become of you both.” - -“I went to the kitchen to get some stamps,” said Sigrid coldly. She -always resented her aunt’s questioning. - -“And it was so lovely and warm in there,” said Swanhild gayly, “and Fru -Hjerkin has been telling me such beautiful stories about the Trolds. Her -mother really saw one, do you know.” - -After this a cold good-night was exchanged, and Fru Grönvold’s brow grew -darker still when Major Brown called out in his hearty way: - -“What, going so early, Miss Falck? We have missed you sadly to-night.” -Then, as she said something about the English mail, “Yes, yes, quite -right. And I ought to be writing home, too, instead of playing.” - -“That means that he will not have another rubber,” thought Sigrid, as -she hurried down the hill to the _dépendence_, “and I shall be blamed -for it.” - -She fell into a state of blank depression, and long after Swanhild was -fast asleep she sat struggling with the English letter, which, do what -she would, refused to have a cheerful tone forced into it. - -“The only comfort is,” she thought, “that the worst has happened to us; -what comes now must be for the better. How the wind is raging round the -house and shrieking at the windows! And, oh, how dreary and wretched -this life is!” - -And in very low spirits she blew out the candle, and lay down to sleep -as best she might in a bed which shook beneath her in the gale. - -With much that was noble in Sigrid’s nature there was interwoven a -certain fault of which she herself was keenly conscious. She could love -a few with the most ardent and devoted love, but her sympathies were not -wide; to the vast majority of those she met she was absolutely -indifferent, and though naturally bright and courteous and desirous of -giving pleasure, yet she was too deeply reserved to depend at all on the -outer circle of friends; she liked them well enough, but it would not -greatly have troubled her had she never met them again. Very few had the -power to call out all the depths of tenderness, all the womanly -sweetness which really characterized her, while a great many repelled -her, and called out the harder side of her nature. - -It was thus with Fru Grönvold. To her aunt, Sigrid was like an icicle, -and her hatred of the little schemes and hopes and anxieties which -filled Fru Grönvold’s mind blinded her to much that was worthy of all -admiration. However, like all the Falcks, Sigrid was conscientious, and -she had been struggling on through the spring and summer, making -spasmodic efforts to overcome her strong dislike to one who in the main -was kind to her, and the very fact that she had tried made her now more -conscious of her failure. - -“My life is slipping by,” she thought to herself, “and somehow I am not -making the most of it. I am harder and colder than before all this -trouble came; I was a mere fine-weather character, and the storm was too -much for me. If I go on hating auntie perhaps I shall infect Swanhild, -and make her turn into just such another narrow-hearted woman. Oh, why -does one have to live with people that rub one just the wrong way?” - -She fell asleep before she had solved this problem, but woke early and -with a restless craving, which she could not have explained, dressed -hastily, put on all the wraps that she possessed, and went out into the -fresh morning air. - -“I have got to put up with this life,” she said to herself, “and I shall -just walk off this stupid discontented mood. What can’t be cured must be -endured. Oh, how beautiful it is out all alone in the early morning! I -am glad the wind is quite gone down, it has just cooled the air so that -to breathe it is like drinking iced water. After all, one can’t talk of -merely enduring life when there is all this left to one.” - -Leaving the steep high-road, she struck off to the left, intent on -gaining the top of Hjerkinshö. Not a house was in sight, not a trace of -any living being; she walked on rapidly, for, although the long upward -slope was in parts fairly steep, the gray lichen with which the ground -was thickly covered was so springy and delicious to walk on that she -felt no fatigue, the refreshing little scrunch that it made beneath her -feet seemed in itself to invigorate her. By the time she reached the top -of the hill she was glowing with exercise, and was glad to sit down and -rest by the cairn of stones. All around her lay one great undulating -sweep of gray country, warmed by the bright sunlight of the summer -morning, and relieved here and there by the purple shadow of some cloud. -Beyond, there rose tier above tier of snowy peaks, Snehaetten standing -out the most nobly of all, and some eighty attendant peaks ranged round -the horizon line as though they were courtiers in attendance on the -monarch of the district. At first Sigrid was so taken up by this -wonderful panorama that she had not a thought for anything beyond it, -but after awhile the strange stillness roused her; for the first time in -her life she had come into absolute silence, and what made the silence -was the infinite space. - -“If one could always be in a peace like this,” she thought, “surely life -would be beautiful then! If one could get out of all the littleness and -narrowness of one’s own heart, and be silent and quiet from all the -worries and vexations and dislikes of life! Perhaps it was the longing -for this that made women go into convents; some go still into places -where they never speak. That would never suit me; out of sheer -perversity I should want to talk directly. But if one could always have -a great wide open space like this that one could go into when one began -to get cross—” - -But there all definite thought was suddenly broken, because nature and -her own need had torn down a veil, and there rushed into her -consciousness a perception of an infinite calm, into which all might at -any moment retire. The sense of that Presence which had so clearly -dawned on her on the night of her father’s death returned to her now -more vividly, and for the first time in her life she was absolutely at -rest. - -After a time she rose and walked quietly home, full of an eager -hopefulness, to begin what she rightly felt would be a new life. She -stopped to pick a lovely handful of flowers for her aunt; she smiled at -the thought of the annoyance she had felt on the previous night about -such a trifle, and went forward almost gayly to meet the old troubles -which but a few hours before had seemed intolerable, but now looked -slight and easy. - -Poor Sigrid! she had yet to learn that with fresh strength comes harder -fighting in the battle of life, and that of those to whom much is given -much will be required. - -They were very cheerful that morning at breakfast; Fru Grönvold seemed -pleased with the flowers, and everything went smoothly. Afterward, when -they were standing in a little group outside the door, she even passed -her arm within Sigrid’s quite tenderly, and talked in the most amiable -way imaginable of the excursion which was being planned to Kongswold. - -“Look! look!” cried Swanhild merrily, “here are some travelers. Two -carioles and a stolkjaerre coming up the hill. Oh! I hope they will be -nice, and that they will stay here.” - -The arrival caused quite a little bustle of excitement, and many -speculations were made as to the relationship of the two sportsmen and -the two ladies in the stolkjaerre. Major Brown came forward to do the -honors of the place, as the landlord happened not to be at hand. - -“Is there any one of the name of Falck here?” asked one of the travelers -as he dismounted from his cariole. “We were at Dombaas last night and -promised to bring this on; we told the landlord that we meant to sleep -at Fokstuen, but he said there was no quicker way of delivery. Seems a -strange mode of delivering telegrams, doesn’t it?” - -“Why, Miss Falck, I see it is for you,” said Major Brown, glancing at -the direction. - -She stepped hastily forward to take it from him with flushed cheeks and -trembling hands; it seemed an eternity before she had torn it open, and -the few words within half paralyzed her. - -For a moment all seemed to stand still, then she became conscious of the -voices around. - -“Oh, we were almost blown away at Fokstuen,” said one. - -“But such _flatbrod_ as they make there!” said another, “we brought away -quite a tinful.” - -“Nothing wrong, my dear, I hope?” said Fru Grönvold. “Child, child, what -is it? Let me read.” - -Then came an almost irresistible impulse to burst into a flood of tears, -checked only by the presence of so many strangers, and by the necessity -of explaining to her aunt. - -“It is in English,” she said in a trembling voice. “From Mr. Boniface. -It says only, ‘Frithiof dangerously ill. Come.’” - -“Poor child! you shall go at once,” said Fru Grönvold. “What can be -wrong with Frithiof? Dangerously ill! See, it was sent from London -yesterday. You shall not lose a moment, my dear. Here is your uncle, -I’ll tell him everything, and do you go and pack what things you need.” - -The girl obeyed; it seemed as if when once she had moved she was capable -only of the one fear—the terrible fear lest she should miss the English -steamer. Already it was far too late to think of catching the Thursday -steamer from Christiania to London, but she must strain every nerve to -catch the next one. Like one in a frightful dream she hastily packed, -while Swanhild ran to and fro on messages, her tears falling fast, for -she, poor little soul, would be left behind, since it was impossible -that she should be taken to London lodgings, where, for aught they knew, -Frithiof might be laid up with some infectious illness. In all her -terrible anxiety Sigrid felt for the child, and with a keen pang -remembered that she had not set her the best of examples, and that all -her plans for a new life, and for greater sympathy with her aunt, were -now at an end. The old life with all its lost opportunities was over—it -was over, and she rightly felt that she had failed. - -“I have murmured and rebelled,” she thought to herself, “and now God is -going to take from me even a chance of making up for it. Oh, how hard it -is to try too late!” - -“We have been looking out the routes, dear,” said Fru Grönvold, coming -into the room, “and the best way will be for you to try for the Friday -afternoon boat from Christiania; it generally gets to Hull a little -before the Saturday one from Bergen, your uncle says.” - -“When can I start?” asked Sigrid eagerly. - -“You must start almost at once for Lille-elvedal; it will be a terribly -tiring drive for you, I’m afraid—eighty-four kilometers and a rough -road. But still there is time to do it, which is the great thing. At -Lille-elvedal you will take the night train to Christiania; it is a -quick one, and will get you there in ten hours, quite in time to catch -the afternoon boat, you see. Your uncle will take you and see you into -the train, and if you like we can telegraph to some friend to meet you -at the Christiania station: the worst of it is, I fear most people are -away just now.” - -“Oh, I shall not want any one,” said Sigrid. “If only I can catch the -steamer nothing matters.” - -“And do not worry more than you can help,” said Fru Grönvold. “Who -knows? You may find him much better.” - -“They would not have sent unless they feared—” Sigrid broke off -abruptly, unable to finish her sentence. And then with a few incoherent -words she clung to her aunt, asking her forgiveness for having annoyed -her so often, and thanking her for all her kindness. And Fru Grönvold, -whose conscience also pricked her, kissed the girl, and cried over her, -and was goodness itself. - -Then came the wrench of parting with poor Swanhild, who broke down -altogether, and had to be left in the desolate little bedroom sobbing -her heart out, while Sigrid went downstairs with her aunt, bade a -hurried farewell to Major Brown, Oscar, and Karen; then, with a pale, -tearless face she climbed into the stolkjaerre, and was driven slowly -away in the direction of Dalen. - -Her uncle talked kindly, speculating much as to the cause of Frithiof’s -illness, and she answered as guardedly as she could, all the time -feeling convinced that somehow Blanche Morgan was at the bottom of it -all. Were they never to come to the end of the cruel mischief wrought by -one selfish woman’s vanity? One thing was clear to her; if Frithiof was -spared to them she could never leave him again, and the thought of a -possible exile from Norway made her look back lingeringly at the scenes -she was leaving. Snehaetten’s lofty peaks still appeared in the -distance, rising white and shining into the clear blue sky; what ages it -seemed since she had watched it from Hjerkinshö in the wonderful -stillness which had preceded this great storm! Below her, to the right, -lay a lovely, smiling valley with birch and fir-trees, and beyond were -round-topped mountains, with here and there patches of snow gleaming out -of black, rocky clefts. - -But soon all thought of her present surroundings was crowded out by the -one absorbing anxiety, and all the more because of her father’s recent -death hope seemed to die within her, and something seemed to tell her -that this hurried journey would be in vain. Each time the grisly fear -clutched at her heart, the slowness of their progress drove her almost -frantic, and the easy-going people at Dalen, who leisurely fetched a -horse which proved to be lame, and then, after much remonstrance, -leisurely fetched another, tried her patience almost beyond bearing. -With her own hands she helped to harness the fresh pony, and at the -dreary little station of Kroghaugen, where all seemed as quiet as the -grave, she not only made the people bestir themselves, but on hearing -that it was necessary to make some sort of a meal there, fetched the -fagots herself to relight the fire, and never rested till all that the -place would afford was set before Herr Grönvold. - - * * * * * - -At length the final change had been made. Ryhaugen was passed, and they -drove on as rapidly as might be for the last stage of their journey. At -any other time the beautiful fir forest through which they were passing -would have delighted her, and the silvery river in the valley below, -with its many windings and its musical ripple, would have made her long -to stay. Now she scarcely saw them; and when, in the heart of the -forest, the skydsgut declared that his horse must rest for half an hour, -she was in despair. - -“But there is plenty of time, dear,” said her uncle kindly. “Come and -take a turn with me; it will rest you.” - -She paced to and fro with him, trying to conquer the frenzy of -impatience which threatened to overmaster her. - -“See,” he said at length, as they sat down to rest on one of the -moss-covered boulders, “I will give you now, while we are quiet and -alone, the money for your passage. Here is a check for fifty pounds, you -will have time to get it cashed in Christiania”; then as she protested -that it was far too much, “No, no; you will need it all in England. It -may prove a long illness; and, in any case,” he added awkwardly, “there -must be expenses.” - -Sigrid, with a horrible choking in her throat, thanked him for his help, -but that “in any case” rang in her ears all through the drive, all -through the waiting at the hotel at Lille-elvedal, all through that -weary journey in the train. - -Yet it was not until she stood on board the _Angelo_ that tears came to -her relief. A great crowd had collected on the quays, for a number of -emigrants were crossing over to England _en route_ for America. Sigrid, -standing there all alone, watched many a parting, saw strong men step on -to the deck sobbing like children, saw women weeping as though their -hearts would break. And when the crowd of those left behind on the quay -began to sing the songs of the country, great drops gathered in her eyes -and slowly fell. They sung with subdued voices. “For Norge, Kjaempers -Foderland,” and “Det Norske Flagg.” Last of all, as the great steamer -moved off, they sung, with a depth of pathos which touched even the -unconcerned foreigners on board, “Ja, vi elsker dette landet.” - -The bustle and confusion on the steamer, the busy sailors, the weeping -emigrants, the black mass of people on shore waving their hats and -handkerchiefs, some sobbing, some singing to cheer the travelers, and -behind the beautiful city of Christiania with its spires and towers, all -this had to Sigrid the strangest feeling of unreality; yet it was a -scene that no one present could ever forget. Bravely the friends on -shore sung out, their voices bridging over the widening waters of the -fjord, the sweet air well suiting the fervor of the words: - - “Yes, we love with fond devotion Norway’s mountain domes, - Rising storm-lashed o’er the ocean, with their thousand homes— - Love our country when we’re bending thoughts to fathers grand, - And to saga night that’s sending dreams upon our land. - Harald on its throne ascended by his mighty sword; - Hakon Norway’s rights defended, helped by Oyvind’s sword; - From the blood of Olaf sainted, Christ’s red cross arose.” - -But there the distance became too great for words to traverse it, only -the wild beauty of the music floated after the outward-bound vessel, and -many a man strained his ears to listen to voices which should never -again be heard by him on earth, and many a woman hid her face and sobbed -with passionate grief. - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII. - - -On the following Monday afternoon, Roy Boniface, pale and worn with all -that he had been through, paced the arrival platform at King’s Cross -Station. Already the train from Hull was signaled and he longed for -Sigrid’s advent, yet dreaded unspeakably the first few moments, the -hurried questions, the sad answers that must follow. The steamer had -been hindered by a fog, and the passengers had not been landed at Hull -until that morning, so that Sigrid had only had time to telegraph the -hour of her arrival, and had been unable to wait for a reply to tell her -of Frithiof’s state. He should have to tell her all—tell her amid the -unsympathizing crowd which jarred upon him even now; for during the last -few days he had lived so entirely with his patient that the outer world -seemed strange to him. His heart beat quickly as the engine darted into -sight and one carriage after another flitted past him. For a minute he -could nowhere see her; but hastening up the platform, and closely -scanning the travelers, he at length caught sight of the golden hair and -black dress which he had been imagining to himself, and heard the clear -voice saying, with something of Frithiof’s quiet decision: - -“It is a black trunk from Hull, and the name is Falck.” - -Roy came quickly forward, and the instant she caught sight of him all -her calmness vanished. - -“Frithiof?” she asked, as he took her hand in his. - -“He is still living,” said Roy, not daring to give an evasive answer to -the blue eyes which seemed to look into his very heart. Whether she had -feared the worst, or had hoped for better news, he could hardly tell; -she turned deathly white, and her lips quivered piteously. - -“I will see to your luggage,” he said; “but before you go to him you -must have something to eat; I see you are quite worn out with the long -journey, and unless you are calm, you will only agitate him.” - -She did not speak a word, but passively allowed him to take her to the -refreshment-room and get her some tea; she even made a faint effort to -attack the roll and butter which had been placed before her, but felt -too completely tired out to get on with it. Roy, seeing how matters -were, quietly drew the plate away, cut the roll into thin slices, and -himself spread them for her. It was months since they had parted at -Balholm as friendly fellow-travelers, yet it seemed now to Sigrid the -most natural thing in the world to depend on him, while he, at the first -glimpse of her questioning face, at the first grasp of her hand, had -realized that he loved her. After her lonely journey, with its lack of -sympathy, it was inexpressibly comforting to her to have beside her one -who seemed instantly to perceive just what she needed. To please him she -tried hard to eat and drink, and before long they were driving to -Vauxhall, and all fear lest she should break down was over. - -“Now,” she said at last, “tell me more about his illness. What brought -it on?” - -“The doctor says it must have been brought on by a great shock, and it -seems that he heard very sad news that day of Lady Romiaux.” - -“I knew it was that wretched girl in some way,” cried Sigrid, clenching -her hand. “I wish she were dead!” - -He was startled by her extreme bitterness, for by nature she was gentle, -and he had not expected such vehemence from her. - -“She is, as Frithiof incessantly says, ‘Worse than dead,’” replied Roy. -“It is a miserable story. Apparently he got hold of some newspaper, read -it all, and was almost immediately broken down by it. They say he was -hardly himself when he left the shop that night, and the next evening, -when I saw him, I found him delirious.” - -“It is his brain that is affected, then?” she faltered. - -“Yes; he seems to have been out of health for a long time, but he never -would give way. All the troubles of last autumn told on him, and this -was merely, as they say, the last straw. But if only we could get him -any sleep, he might even now recover.” - -“How long has he been without it?” - -“I came to him on Tuesday evening; it was on the Monday that he read -that paragraph, just this day week, and he has never slept since then. -When did my telegram reach you, by the by?” - -“Not until Thursday. You see, though you sent it on Wednesday morning, -yet it had to be forwarded from Bergen, as we were in an out-of-the-way -place on the Dovrefield.” - -“And you have been traveling ever since? You must be terribly worn out.” - -“Oh, the traveling was nothing; it was the terrible anxiety and the -slowness of everything that almost maddened one. But nothing matters -now. I am at least in time to see him.” - -“This is the house where he is lodging,” said Roy as the cab drew up. -“Are you fit to go to him now, or had you not better rest first?” - -“No, no, I must go to him directly,” she said. And, indeed, it seemed -that the excitement had taken away all her fatigue; her cheeks were -glowing, her eyes, though so wistful, were full of eagerness. She -followed him into the gloomy little house, spoke a courteous word or two -to Miss Charlotte, stood in the passage to receive her, and then hastily -mounted the stairs, and entered the darkened room where, instead of the -excitement which she had pictured to herself, there reigned an ominous -calm. A hospital nurse, whose sweet, strong face contrasted curiously -with her funereal garments, was sitting beside the mattresses, which for -greater convenience had been placed on the floor. Frithiof lay in the -absolute stillness of exhaustion, and Sigrid, who had never seen him -ill, was for a moment almost overcome. That he, who had always been so -strong, so daring, so full of life and spirit, should have sunk to this! -It seemed hardly possible that the thin, worn, haggard face on the -pillow could be the same face which had smiled on her last from the deck -of the steamer when he had started on that fatal visit to the Morgans. -He was talking incoherently, and twice she caught the name of Blanche. - -“If she were here I could kill her!” she thought to herself; but the -fierce indignation died down almost instantly, for all the tenderness of -her womanly nature was called out by Frithiof’s need. - -“Try if you can get him to take this,” said the nurse, handing her a cup -of beef-tea. - -He took it passively, but evidently did not in the least recognize her. -It was only after some time had gone by that the tone of her voice and -the sound of his native tongue affected him. His eyes, which for so many -days had seen only the phantoms of his imagination, fixed themselves on -her face, and by degrees a light of recognition dawned in them. - -“Sigrid!” he exclaimed, in a tone of such relief that tears started to -her eyes. - -She bent down and kissed him. - -“I have come to take care of you. And after you have been to sleep we -will have a long talk,” she said gently. “There, let me make your -pillows comfortable.” - -Her presence, instead of exciting him to wonder or to ask questions, -acted upon him like a soothing spell. - -“Talk,” he said. “It is so good to hear Norse once more.” - -“I will talk if you will try to sleep. I will sit here and say you some -of Björnsen’s songs.” And, with his hand still in hers, she said, in her -quieting voice, “Jeg har sogt,” and “Olaf Trygvason,” and “Prinsessen.” - -This last seemed specially to please him, and while, for the sixth time, -she was repeating it, Roy, who had been watching them intently, made her -a little sign, and, glancing down, she saw that Frithiof had fallen -asleep. No one stirred, for they all knew only too well how much -depended on that sleep. The nurse, who was one of those cheerful and -buoyant characters that live always in the present—and usually in the -present of others—mused over her three companions, and settled in her -practical mind the best means of relieving Sigrid without disturbing the -patient. - -Sigrid herself was living in the past, and was watching sadly enough -Frithiof’s altered face. Could he ever again be the same strong, hardy, -dauntless fellow he had once been? She remembered how in the old days he -had come back from hunting fresh and invigorated when every one else had -been tired out. She thought of his room in the old home in Kalvedalen -with its guns and fishing-tackle, its reindeer skins and bear skins, its -cases of stuffed birds, all trophies of his prowess. And then she looked -round this dreary London room, and thought how wretched it must have -felt to him when night after night he returned to it and sat working at -translations in which he could take no sort of interest. - -As for Roy, having lived for so many days in that sick-room with -scarcely a thought beyond it, he had now plunged into a sudden reaction; -a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Sigrid had come, and -with one bound he had stepped into a bright future; a future in which he -could always watch the fair, womanly face now before him; a future in -which he should have the right to serve and help her, to shield her from -care and turn her poverty to wealth. But that last thought brought a -certain anxiety with it. For he fancied that Sigrid was not without a -share of Frithiof’s independent pride. If once she could love him the -question of money could, of course, make no difference, but he feared -that her pride might perhaps make out of her poverty and his riches a -barrier which should shut out even the thought of love. - -Of all those who were gathered together in that room, Frithiof was the -most entirely at rest, for at last there had come to his relief the -priceless gift of dreamless and unbroken sleep. For just as the -spiritual life dies within us if we become absorbed in the things of -this world and neglect the timeless calm which is our true state, so the -body and mind sink if they cannot for brief intervals escape out of the -bonds of time into the realms of sleep. The others lived in past, -present, or future, but Frithiof lay in that blissful state of entire -repose which builds up, all unconsciously to ourselves, the very fibers -of our being. What happens to us in sleep that we wake once more like -new beings? No one can exactly explain. What happens to us when - - “We kneel how weak, we rise how full of power”? - -No one can precisely tell us. But the facts remain. By these means are -body and spirit renewed. - -For the next day or two Frithiof realized little. To the surprise and -delight of all he slept almost incessantly, waking only to take food, to -make sure that Sigrid was with him, and to enjoy a delicious sense of -ease and relief. - -“He is out of the wood now,” said Dr. Morris cheerfully. “You came just -in time, Miss Falck. But I will give you one piece of advice: if -possible stay in England and make your home with him; he ought not to be -so much alone.” - -“You think that he may have such an attack again?” asked Sigrid -wistfully. - -“No, I don’t say that at all. He has a wonderful constitution, and there -is no reason why he should ever break down again. But he is more likely -to get depressed if he is alone, and you will be able to prevent his -life from growing too monotonous.” - -So as she lived through those quiet days in the sick-room, Sigrid racked -her brain to think of some way of making money, and searched, as so many -women have done before her, the columns of the newspapers, and made -fruitless inquiries, and wasted both time and money in the attempt. One -day Roy, coming in at his usual hour in the morning to relieve guard, -brought her a fat envelope which he had found waiting for her in the -hall. She opened it eagerly, and made a little exclamation of -disappointment and vexation. - -“Anything wrong?” he asked. - -She began to laugh, though he fancied he saw tears in her eyes. “Oh,” -she said, “it seems so ridiculous when I had been expecting such great -things from it. You know I have been trying to hear of work in London, -and there was an advertisement in the paper which said that two pounds a -week might easily be realized either by men or women without interfering -with their present occupations, and that all particulars would be given -on the receipt of eighteen-pence. So I sent the money, and here is a -wretched aluminium pencil in return, and I am to make this two pounds a -week by getting orders for them.” - -The absurdity of the whole thing struck her more forcibly and she -laughed again more merrily; Roy laughed too. - -“Have you made any other attempts?” he asked. - -“Oh, yes,” said Sigrid, “I began to try in Norway, and even attempted a -story and sent it to one of our best novelists to ask his opinion.” - -“And what did he say?” - -“Well,” she said, smiling, “he wrote back very kindly, but said that he -could not conscientiously recommend any one to write stories whose sole -idea in taking up the profession was the making of money. My conscience -pricked me there, and so I never tried writing again and never will. -Then the other day I wrote to another place which advertised, and got -back a stupid bundle of embroidery patterns. It is mere waste of money -answering these things. They say a woman can earn a guinea a time by -shaving poodles, but you see I have no experience of poodles,” and she -laughed merrily. - -Roy sat musing over the perplexities of ordinary life. Here was he with -more money than he knew what to do with, and here was the woman he loved -struggling in vain to earn a few shillings. Yet, the mere fact that he -worshiped her made him chivalrously careful to avoid laying her under -any obligation. As far as possible he would serve her, but in this vital -question of money it seemed that he could only stand aside and watch her -efforts. Nor did he dare to confess the truth to her as yet, for he -perceived quite plainly that she was absorbed in Frithiof, and could not -possibly for some time to come be free even to consider her own personal -life. Clearly at present she regarded him with that frank friendliness -which he remembered well at Balholm, and in his helpfulness had -discerned nothing that need be construed as the attentions of a lover. -After all he was her brother’s sole friend in England, and it was -natural enough that he should do all that he could for them. - -“My father and mother come home to-night,” he said at length, “and if -you will allow me I will ask them if they know of anything likely to -suit you. Cecil will be very anxious to meet you again. Don’t you think -you might go for a drive with her to-morrow afternoon? I would be here -with your brother.” - -“Oh, I should so like to meet her again,” said Sigrid, “we all liked her -so much last summer. I don’t feel that I really know her at all yet, for -she is not very easy to know, but she interested me just because of -that.” - -“I don’t think any one can know Cecil who has not lived with her,” said -Roy, “she is so very reserved.” - -“Yes; at first I thought she was just gentle and quiet without very much -of character, but one day when we were out together we tried to get some -branches of willow. They were so stiff to break that I lazily gave up, -but she held on to hers with a strong look in her face which quite -startled me, and said, ‘I can’t be beaten just by a branch.’” - -“That is Cecil all over,” said Roy, smiling; “she never would let -anything daunt her. May I tell her that you will see her to-morrow?” - -Sigrid gladly assented, and the next day both Mrs. Boniface and Cecil -drove to the little house at Vauxhall. Roy brought Sigrid down to the -carriage, and with a very happy, satisfied feeling introduced her to his -mother, and watched the warm meeting with Cecil. - -“I can’t think what would have become of Frithiof if it had not been for -all your kindness,” said Sigrid. “Your son has practically saved his -life, I am sure, by taking care of him through this illness.” - -“And the worst is over now, I hope,” said Mrs. Boniface. “That is such a -comfort.” - -At the first moment Sigrid had fallen in love with the sweet-natured, -motherly old lady, and now she opened all her heart to her, and they -discussed the sad cause of Frithiof’s breakdown, and talked of past days -in Norway, and of the future that lay before him, Cecil listening with -that absolute command of countenance which betokens a strong nature, and -her companions little dreaming that their words, though eagerly heard, -were like so many sword-thrusts to her. The neat brougham of the -successful tradesman might have seemed prosaic enough, and an unlikely -place in which to find any romance, but nevertheless the three occupants -with their joys and sorrows, their hopes and fears, were each living out -an absorbing life story. For every heart has its own romance, and -whether living in the fierce glare of a palace, in the whirl of society, -in a quiet London suburb, or in an East-end court, it is all the same. -The details differ, the accessories are strangely different, but the -love which is the great mainspring of life is precisely the same all the -world over. - -“What makes me so miserable,” said Sigrid, “is to feel that his life is, -as it were, over, though he is so young: it has been spoiled and ruined -for him when he is but one-and-twenty.” - -“But the very fact of his being so young seems to me to give hope that -brighter things are in store for him,” said Mrs. Boniface. - -“I do not think so,” said Sigrid. “That girl has taken something from -him which can never come again: it does not seem to me possible that a -man can love like that twice in a lifetime.” - -“Perhaps not just in that way,” said Mrs. Boniface. - -“And besides,” said Sigrid, “what girl would care to take such love as -he might now be able to give? I am sure nothing would induce me to -accept any secondary love of that kind.” - -She spoke as a perfectly heart-whole girl, frankly and unreservedly. And -what she said was true. She never could have been satisfied with less -than the whole; it was her nature to exact much; she could love very -devotedly, but she would jealously demand an equal devotion in return. - -Now Cecil was of a wholly different type. Already love had taken -possession of her, it had stolen into her heart almost unconsciously and -had brought grave shadows into her quiet life, shadows cast by the -sorrow of another. Her notion of love was simply freedom to love and -serve; to give her this freedom there must of course be true love on the -other side, but of its kind or of its degree she would never trouble -herself to think. For already her love was so pure and deep that it -rendered her almost selfless. Sigrid’s speech troubled her for a minute -or two; if one girl could speak so, why not all girls? Was she perhaps -less truly womanly that she thought less of what was owing to herself? - -“It may be so,” she admitted, yet with a latent consciousness that so -infinite a thing as love could not be bound by any hard and fast rules. -“But I cannot help it. Whether it is womanly or not, I would die to give -him the least real comfort.” - -“Tell Harris to stop, Cecil,” said Mrs. Boniface. “We will get some -grapes for Mr. Falck.” - -And glad to escape from the carriage for a minute, and glad, too, to be -of use even in such a far-off way, Cecil went into the fruiterer’s, -returning before long with a beautiful basket of grapes and flowers. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX. - - -“See what I have brought you,” said Sigrid, re-entering the sick-room a -little later on. - -Frithiof took the basket and looked, with a pleasure which a few weeks -ago would have been impossible to him, at the lovely flowers and fruit. - -“You have come just at the right time, for he will insist on talking of -all the deepest things in heaven and earth,” said Roy, “and this makes a -good diversion.” - -“They are from Mrs. Boniface. Is it not kind of her! And do you know, -Frithiof, she and Doctor Morris have been making quite a deep plot; they -want to transplant us bodily to Rowan Tree House, and Doctor Morris -thinks the move could do you no harm now that you are getting better.” - -His face lighted up with something of its former expression. - -“How I should like never to see this hateful room again!” he exclaimed. -“You don’t know how I detest it. The old ghosts seem to haunt it still. -There is nothing that I can bear to look at except your picture of -Bergen, which has done me more than one good turn.” - -Sigrid, partly to keep him from talking too much, partly because she -always liked to tell people of that little act of kindness, gave Roy the -history of the picture, and Frithiof lay musing over the curious -relative power of kindness and cruelty, and was obliged, though somewhat -reluctantly, to admit to himself that a very slight act of kindness -certainly did exert an enormous and unthought-of influence. - -Physical disorder had had much to do with the black view of life which -he had held for the last few months, but now that the climax had been -reached and rest had been forced upon him, his very exhaustion and -helplessness enabled him to see a side of life which had never before -been visible to him. He was very much softened by all that he had been -through. It seemed that while the events of the past year had imbittered -and hardened him, this complete breakdown of bodily strength had brought -back something of his old nature. The bright enjoyment of mere existence -could of course never return to him, but still, notwithstanding the scar -of his old wound, there came to him during those days of his -convalescence a sense of keen pleasure in Sigrid’s presence, in his -gradually returning strength, and in the countless little acts of -kindness which everybody showed him. - -The change to Rowan Tree House seemed to work wonders to him. The house -had always charmed him, and the recollection of the first time he had -entered it, using it as a shelter from the storm of life, much as Roy -and Cecil had used his father’s house as a shelter from the drenching -rain of Bergen, returned to him again and again through the quiet weeks -that followed. The past year looked now to him like a nightmare to a man -who was awakened in broad daylight. It seemed to him that he was lying -at the threshold of a new life, worn and tired with the old life, it was -true, yet with a gradually increasing interest in what lay beyond, and a -perception that there were many things of which he had as yet but the -very faintest notion. - -Sigrid told him all the details of her life in Norway since they had -last seen each other, of her refusal of Torvald Lundgren, of her -relations with her aunt, of the early morning on Hjerkinshö. And her -story touched him. When, stirred by all that had happened into unwonted -earnestness, she owned to him that after that morning on the mountain -everything had seemed different, he did not, as he would once have done, -laughingly change the subject, or say that religion was all very well -for women. - -“It was just as if I had worn a crape veil all my life,” she said, -looking up from her work for a moment with those clear, blue, practical -eyes of hers. “And up there on the mountain it seemed as if some one had -lifted it quite away.” - -Her words stirred within him an uneasy sense of loss, a vague desire, -which he had once or twice felt before. He was quite silent for some -time, lying back idly in his chair and watching her as she worked. - -“Sigrid!” he said at last, with a suppressed eagerness in his voice, -“Sigrid, you wont go back again to Norway and leave me?” - -“No, dear, I will never leave you,” she said warmly. “I will try to find -some sort of work. To-night I mean to talk to Mr. Boniface about it. -Surely in this huge place there must be something I can do.” - -“It is its very hugeness that makes one despair,” said Frithiof. “Good -God! what I went through last autumn! And there are thousands in the -same plight, thousands who would work if only they could meet with -employment.” - -“Discussing the vexed question of the unemployed?” said Mr. Boniface, -entering the room in time to hear this last remark. - -“Yes,” said Sigrid, smiling. “Though I’m a wretched foreigner come to -swell their number. But what can be the cause of such distress?” - -“I think it is this,” said Mr. Boniface, “population goes on increasing, -but practical Christianity does not increase at the same rate.” - -“Are you what they call a Christian Socialist?” asked Sigrid. - -“No; I am not very fond of assuming any distinctive party name, and the -Socialists seem to me to look too much to compulsion. You can’t make -people practical Christians by Act of Parliament; you have no right to -force the rich to relieve the poor. The nation suffers, and all things -are at a dead-lock because so many of us neglect our duty. If we argued -less about the ‘masses,’ and quietly did as we would be done by to those -with whom life brings us into contact, I believe the distress would soon -be at an end.” - -“Do you mean by that private almsgiving?” asked Frithiof. “Surely that -can only pauperize the people.” - -“I certainly don’t mean indiscriminate almsgiving,” said Mr. Boniface; -“I mean only this. You start with your own family; do your duty by them. -You have a constant succession of servants passing through your -household; be a friend to them. You have men and women in your employ; -share their troubles. Perhaps you have tenants; try to look at life from -their point of view. If we all tried to do this the cure would indeed be -found, and the breach between the rich and poor bridged over.” - -How simply and unostentatiously Mr. Boniface lived out his own theory -Frithiof knew quite well. He reflected that all the kindness he himself -had received had not tended to pauperize him, had not in the least -crushed his independence or injured his self-respect. On the contrary, -it had saved him from utter ruin, and had awakened in him a gratitude -which would last all his life. But this new cure was not to depend only -on taxation or on the State, but on a great influence working within -each individual. The idea set him thinking, and the sense of his own -ignorance weighed upon him. - -One morning it chanced that, sitting out in the veranda at the back of -the house, he overheard Lance’s reading-lesson, which was going on in -the morning-room. Sounds of laborious wrestling with the difficulties of -“Pat a fat cat,” and other interesting injunctions, made him realize how -very slow human nature is to learn any perfectly new thing, and how -toilsome are first steps. Presently came a sound of trotting feet. - -“Gwen! Gwen!” shouted Lance, “come here to us. Cecil is going to read to -us out of her Bible, and it’s awfully jolly!” - -He heard a stifled laugh from Cecil. - -“Oh, Lance,” she said, “Gwen is much too young to care for it. Come, -shut the door, and we will begin.” - -Again came the sound of trotting feet, then Cecil’s clear, low voice. -“What story do you want?” - -“Read about the three men walking in the fender and the fairy coming to -them,” said Lance promptly. - -“Not a fairy, Lance.” - -“Oh, I mean a angel,” he replied apologetically. - -So she read him his favorite story of Nebuchadnezzar the king, and the -golden image and the three men who would not bow down to it. - -“You see,” she said at the end, “they were brave men; they would not do -what they knew to be wrong. We want you to grow like them.” - -There was a silence, broken at last by Lance. - -“I will only hammer nails in wood,” he said gravely. - -“How do you mean?” asked Cecil, not quite seeing the connection. - -“Not into the tables and chairs,” said Lance, who had clearly -transgressed in this matter, and had applied the story to his own life -with amusing simplicity. - -“That’s right,” said Cecil. “God will be pleased if you try.” - -“He can see us, but we can’t see him,” said Lance, in his sweet childish -tones, quietly telling forth in implicit trust the truth that many a man -longs to believe. - -A minute after he came dancing out into the garden, his short, sunny -curls waving in the summer wind, his cheeks glowing, his hazel eyes and -innocent little mouth beaming with happiness. - -“He looks like an incarnate smile,” thought Frithiof. - -And then he remembered what Roy had told him of the father and mother, -and he thought how much trouble awaited the poor child, and felt the -same keen wish that Cecil had felt that he might be brought up in a way -which should make him able to resist whatever evil tendencies he had -inherited. “If anything can save him it will be such a home as this,” he -reflected. - -Then, as Cecil came out into the veranda, he joined her, and they walked -together down one of the shady garden paths. - -“I overheard your pupil this morning,” he began, and they laughed -together over the child’s quaint remarks. “That was very good, his -turning the story to practical account all by himself. He is a lucky -little beggar to have you for his teacher. I wonder what makes a child -so ready to swallow quite easily the most difficult things in heaven and -earth?” - -“I suppose because he knows he can’t altogether understand, and is -willing to take things on trust,” said Cecil. - -“If anything can keep him straight when he grows up it will be what you -have taught him,” said Frithiof. “You wonder that I admit that, and a -year ago I couldn’t have said as much, but I begin to think that there -is after all a very great restraining power in the old faith. The -difficulty is to get up any sort of interest in that kind of thing.” - -“You talk as if it were a sort of science,” said Cecil. - -“That is precisely what it seems to me; and just as one man is born with -a love of botany, another takes naturally to astronomy, and a third has -no turn for science whatever, but is fond of hunting and fishing, so it -seems to me with religion. All of you, perhaps, have inherited the -tendency from your Puritan forefathers, but I have inherited quite the -opposite tendency from my Viking ancestors. Like them, I prefer to love -my friend and hate my enemy, and go through life in the way that best -pleases me. I am not a reading man; I can’t get up the faintest sort of -interest in these religious matters.” - -“We are talking of two different things,” said Cecil. “It is of the mere -framework of religion that you are speaking. Very likely many of us are -born without any taste for theology, or sermons, or Church history. We -are not bound surely to force up an interest in them.” - -“Then if all that is not religion, pray what is it? You are not like -Miss Charlotte, who uses phrases without analyzing them. What do you -mean by religion?” - -“I mean knowing and loving God,” she said, after a moment’s pause. - -Her tone was very gentle, and not in the least didactic. - -“I have believed in a God always—more or less,” said Frithiof slowly. -“But how do you get to know Him?” - -“I think it is something in the same way that people get to know each -other,” said Cecil. “Cousin James Horner, for instance, sees my father -every day; he has often stayed in the same house with him, and has in a -sense known him all his life. But he doesn’t really know him at all. He -never takes the trouble really to know any one. He sees the outside of -my father—that is all. They have hardly anything in common.” - -“Mr. Horner is so full of himself and his own opinions that he never -could appreciate such a man as your father,” said Frithiof. Then, -perceiving that his own mouth had condemned him, he relapsed into -silence. “What is your receipt, now, for getting to know a person?” he -said presently, with a smile. - -“First,” she said thoughtfully, “a desire to know and a willingness to -be known. Then I think one must forget one’s self as much as possible, -and try to understand the feelings, and words, and acts of the one you -wish to know in the light of the whole life, or as much as you can learn -of it, not merely of the present. Then, too, I am quite sure that you -must be alone together, for it is only alone that people will talk of -the most real things.” - -He was silent, trying in his own mind to fit her words to his own need. - -“Then you don’t think, as some do, that when once we set out with a real -desire all the rest is quite easy and to be drifted into without any -special effort.” - -“No,” she said, “I do not believe in drifting. And if we were not so -lazy I believe we should all of us know more of God. It is somehow -difficult to take quite so much pains about that as about other things.” - -“It can’t surely be difficult to you; it always seems to be easy to -women, but to us men all is so different.” - -“Are you so sure of that?” she said quietly. - -“I have always fancied so,” he replied. “Why, the very idea of shutting -one’s self in alone to think—to pray—it is so utterly unnatural to a -man.” - -“I suppose the harder it is the more it is necessary,” said Cecil. “But -our Lord was not always praying on mountains; he was living a quite -ordinary shop life, and must have been as busy as you are.” - -Her words startled him; everything connected with Christianity had been -to him lifeless, unreal, formal—something utterly apart from the -every-day life of a nineteenth century man. She had told him that to her -religion meant “knowing” and “loving,” and he now perceived that by -“loving” she meant the active living of the Christ-life, the constant -endeavor to do the will of God. She had not actually said this in so -many words, but he knew more plainly than if she had spoken that this -was her meaning. - -They paced in silence the shady garden walk. To Frithiof the whole world -seemed wider than it had ever been before. On the deadly monotony of his -business life there had arisen a light which altogether transformed it. -He did his best even now to quench its brightness, and said to himself, -“This will not last; I shall hate desk and counter and all the rest of -it as badly as ever when I go back.” For it was his habit since Blanche -had deceived him to doubt the lastingness of all that he desired to -keep. Still, though he doubted for the future, the present was -wonderfully changed, and the new idea that had come into his life was -the best medicine he could have had. - -Sigrid watched his returning strength with delight; indeed, perhaps she -never realized what he had been during his lonely months of London life. -She had not seen the bitterness, the depression, the hardness, the too -evident deterioration which had saddened Cecil’s heart through the -winter and spring; and she could not see as Cecil saw how he was -struggling up now into a nobler manhood. Roy instinctively felt it. Mr. -Boniface, with his ready sympathy and keen insight, found out something -of the true state of the case; but only Cecil actually knew it. She had -had to bear the worst of the suffering all through those long months, -and it was but fair that the joy should be hers alone. - -Frithiof hardly knew which part of the day was most pleasant to him, the -quiet mornings after Mr. Boniface and Roy had gone to town, when he and -Sigrid were left to their own devices; the pleasant little break at -eleven, when Mrs. Boniface looked in to remind them that fruit was good -in the morning, and to tempt him with pears and grapes, while Cecil and -the two children came in from the garden, bringing with them a sense of -freshness and life; the drowsy summer afternoon when he dozed over a -novel; the drive in the cool of the day, and the delightful home -evenings with music and reading aloud. - -Quiet the life was, it is true, but dull never. Every one had plenty to -do, yet not too much, for Mr. Boniface had a horror of the modern craze -for rushing into all sorts of philanthropic undertakings, would have -nothing to do with bazaars, groaned inwardly when he was obliged by a -sense of duty to attend any public meeting, and protested vehemently -against the multiplication of “Societies.” - -“I have a pet Society of my own,” he used to say with a smile. “It is -the Keeping at Home Society. Every householder is his own president, and -the committee is formed by his family.” - -Notwithstanding this, he was the most widely charitable man, and was -always ready to lend a helping hand; but he loved to work quietly, and -all who belonged to him caught something of the same tone, so that in -the house there was a total absence of that wearing whirl of good works -in which many people live nowadays, and though perhaps they had not so -many irons in the fire, yet the work they did was better done in -consequence, and the home remained what it was meant to be, a center of -love and life, not a mere eating-house and dormitory. - -Into the midst of this home there had come now some strangely fresh -elements. Three distinct romances were being worked out beneath that -quiet roof. There was poor Frithiof with his shattered life, his past an -agony which would scarcely bear thinking of, his future a desperate -struggle with circumstances. There was Cecil, whose life was so far -bound up with his that when he suffered she suffered too, yet had to -live on with a serene face and make no sign. There was Roy already madly -in love with the blue-eyed, fair-haired Sigrid, who seemed in the glad -reaction after all her troubles to have developed into a totally -different being, and was the life of the party. And yet in spite of the -inevitable pain of love, these were happy days for all of them. Happy to -Frithiof because his strength was returning to him; because, with an -iron resolution, he as far as possible shut out the remembrance of -Blanche; because the spirit life within him was slowly developing, and -for the first time he had become conscious that it was a reality. - -Happy for Cecil, because her love was no foolish sentimentality, no -selfish day-dream, but a noble love which taught her more than anything -else could possibly have done; because, instead of pining away at the -thought that Frithiof was utterly indifferent to her, she took it on -trust that God would withhold from her no really good thing, and made -the most of the trifling ways in which she could at present help him. -Happiest of all perhaps for Roy, because his love-story was full of -bright hope—a hope that each day grew fuller and clearer. - -“Robin,” said Mrs. Boniface, one evening, to her husband, as together -they paced to and fro in the veranda, while Frithiof was being initiated -into lawn-tennis in the garden, “I think Sigrid Falck is one of the -sweetest girls I ever saw.” - -“So thinks some one else, if I am not much mistaken,” he replied. - -“Then you, too, have noticed it. I am so glad. I hoped it was so, but -could not feel sure. Oh, Robin, I wonder if he has any chance? She would -make him such a sweet little wife!” - -“How can we tell that she has not left her heart in Norway?” - -“I do not think so,” said Mrs. Boniface. “No, I feel sure that can’t be, -from the way in which she speaks of her life there. If there is any -rival to be feared it is Frithiof. They seem to me wrapped up in each -other, and it is only natural, too, after all their trouble and -separation and this illness of his. How strong he is getting again, and -how naturally he takes to the game! He is such a fine-looking fellow, -somehow he dwarfs every one else,” and she glanced across to the -opposite side of the lawn, where Roy with his more ordinary height and -build certainly did seem somewhat eclipsed. And yet to her motherly eyes -that honest, open, English face, with its sun-burned skin, was perhaps -the fairest sight in the world. - -Not that she was a blindly and foolishly loving mother; she knew that he -had his faults. But she knew, too, that he was a sterling fellow, and -that he would make the woman he married perfectly happy. - -They were so taken up with thoughts of the visible romance that was -going on beneath their eyes, that it never occurred to them to think of -what might be passing in the minds of the two on the other side of the -net. And perhaps that was just as well, for the picture was a sad one, -and would certainly have cast a shadow upon their hearts. Cecil was too -brave and resolute and self-controlled to allow her love to undermine -her health; nor did she so brood upon her inevitable loss that she -ceased to enjoy the rest of her life. There was very much still left to -her, and though at times everything seemed to her flavorless and -insipid, yet the mood would pass, and she would be able intensely to -enjoy her home life. Still there was no denying that the happiness which -seemed dawning for Roy and Sigrid was denied to the other two; they were -handicapped in the game of life just as they were at tennis—the setting -sun shone full in their faces and made the play infinitely more -difficult, whereas the others playing in the shady courts had a -considerable advantage over them. - -“Well, is the set over?” asked Mr. Boniface, as the two girls came -toward them. - -“Yes,” cried Sigrid merrily. “And actually our side has won! I am so -proud of having beaten Cecil and Frithiof, for, as a rule, Frithiof is -one of those detestable people who win everything. It was never any fun -playing with him when we were children, he was always so lucky.” - -As she spoke Frithiof had come up the steps behind her. - -“My luck has turned, you see,” he said, with a smile in which there was -a good deal of sadness. But his tone was playful, and indeed it seemed -that he had entirely got rid of the bitterness which had once dominated -every look and word. - -“Nonsense!” she cried, slipping her hand into his arm. “Your luck will -return; it is only that you are not quite strong again yet. Wait a day -or two, and I shall not have a chance against you. You need not grudge -me my one little victory.” - -“It has not tired you too much?” asked Mrs. Boniface, glancing up at -Frithiof. There was a glow of health in his face which she had never -before seen, and his expression, which had once been stern, had grown -much more gentle. “But I see,” she added, “that is a foolish question, -for I don’t think I have ever seen you looking better. It seems to me -this is the sort of exercise you need. We let you stay much too long -over that translating in the old days.” - -“Yes,” said Sigrid; “I hardly know whether to laugh or cry when I think -of Frithiof, of all people in the world, doing learned translations for -such a man as Herr Sivertsen. He never could endure sedentary life.” - -“And yet,” said Mr. Boniface, pacing along the veranda with her, “I -tried in vain to make him take up cricket. He declared that in Norway -you did not go in for our English notions of exercise for the sake of -exercise.” - -“Perhaps not,” said Sigrid; “but he was always going in for the wildest -adventures, and never had the least taste for books. Poor Frithiof, it -only shows how brave and resolute he is; he is so set upon paying off -these debts that he will sacrifice everything to that one idea, and will -keep to work which must be hateful to him.” - -“He is a fine fellow,” said Mr. Boniface. “I had hardly realized what -his previous life must have been, though of course I knew that the -drudgery of shop life was sorely against the grain.” - -“Ever since he was old enough to hold a gun, he used to go with my -father in August to the mountains in North Fjord for the reindeer -hunting,” said Sigrid. “And every Sunday through the winter he used to -go by himself on the wildest excursions after sea-birds. My father said -it was good training for him, and as long as he took with him old Nils, -his skydsmand—I think you call that boatman in English—he was never -worried about him when he was away. But sometimes I was afraid for him, -and old Gro, our nurse, always declared that he would end by being -drowned. Come here, Frithiof, and tell Mr. Boniface about your night on -the fjord by Bukken.” - -His eyes lighted up at the recollection. - -“Ah, it was such fun!” he cried; “though we were cheated out of our -sport after all. I had left Bergen on the Saturday, going with old Nils -to Bukken, and there as usual we took a boat to row across to Gjelleslad -where I generally slept, getting up at four in the morning to go after -the birds. Well, that night Nils and I set out to row across, but had -not got far when the most fearful storm came down on us. I never saw -such lightning, before or since, and the wind was terrific; we could do -nothing against it, and indeed it was wonderful that we did not go to -the bottom. By good luck we were driven back to land, and managed to -haul up the boat, turn it up, and shelter as best we could under it, old -Nils swearing like a trooper and declaring I should be the death of him -some day. For four mortal hours we stayed there, and the storm still -raged. At last, by good luck, I hunted up four men who were willing to -run the risk of rowing us back to Bergen. Then off we set, Nils vowing -that we should be drowned, and so we were very nearly. It was the -wildest night I ever knew, and the rowing was fearful work, but at last -we got safely home.” - -“And you should have seen him,” cried Sigrid. “He roused us all up at -half-past six in the morning, and there he was, soaked to the skin, but -looking so bright and jolly, and making us roar with laughter with his -description of it all. And I really believe it did him good; for after a -few hours’ sleep he came down in the best possible of humors. And don’t -you remember, Frithiof, how you played it all on your violin?” - -“And was only successful in showing how well Nils growled,” said -Frithiof, laughing. - -The reference to the violin suggested the usual evening’s music, and -they went into the drawing-room, where Sigrid played them some Norwegian -airs, Roy standing near her, and watching her fair, sweet face, which -was still glowing with the recollection of those old days of which they -had talked. - -“Was it possible,” he thought, “that she who was so devoted to her -brother, that she who loved the thought of perilous adventures, and so -ardently admired the bold, fearless, peril-seeking nature of the old -Vikings, was it possible that she could ever love such an ordinary, -humdrum, commonplace Londoner as himself?” He fell into great -despondency, and envied Frithiof his Norse nature, his fine physique, -his daring spirit. - -How infinitely harder life was rendered to his friend by that same -nature, he did not pause to think, and sorry as he was for Frithiof’s -troubles, he scarcely realized at all the force with which they had -fallen upon the Norwegian’s proud, self-reliant character. - -Absorbed in the thought of his own love, he had little leisure for such -observations. The one all-engrossing question excluded everything else. -And sometimes with hope he asked himself, “Can she love me?”—sometimes -in despair assured himself that it was impossible—altogether impossible. - - - - - CHAPTER XX. - - -If any one had told Roy that his fate was to be seriously affected by -Mrs. James Horner, he would scarcely have credited the idea. But the -romances of real life are not as a rule spoiled by some black-hearted -villain, but are quite unconsciously checked by uninteresting matrons, -or prosaic men of the world, who, with entire innocence, frustrate hopes -and in happy ignorance go on their way, never realizing that they have -had anything to do with the actual lives of those they meet. If the life -at Rowan Tree House had gone on without interruption, if Sigrid had been -unable to find work and had been at perfect leisure to consider Roy’s -wooing, it is quite probable that in a few weeks their friendship might -have ended in betrothal. But Mrs. James Horner gave a children’s party, -and this fact changed the whole aspect of affairs. - -“It is, as you say, rather soon after my poor uncle’s death for us to -give a dance,” said Mrs. Horner, as she sat in the drawing-room of Rowan -Tree House discussing the various arrangements. “But you see it is dear -Mamie’s birthday, and I do not like to disappoint her; and Madame -Lechertier has taken the idea up so warmly, and has promised to come as -a spectator. It was at her suggestion that we made it a fancy dress -affair.” - -“Who is Madame Lechertier?” asked Sigrid, who listened with all the -interest of a foreigner to these details. - -“She is a very celebrated dancing mistress,” explained Cecil. “I should -like you to see her, for she is quite a character.” - -“Miss Falck will, I hope, come to our little entertainment,” said Mrs. -Horner graciously. For, although she detested Frithiof, she had been, -against her will, charmed by Sigrid. “It is, you know, quite a small -affair—about fifty children, and only from seven to ten. I would not, -for the world, shock the congregation, Loveday, so I mean to make it all -as simple as possible. I do not know that I shall even have ices.” - -“My dear, I do not think ices would shock them,” said Mrs. Boniface, -“though I should think perhaps they might not be wholesome for little -children who have got heated with dancing.” - -“Oh, I don’t really think they’ll be shocked at all,” said Mrs. Horner, -smiling. “James could do almost anything before they’d be shocked. You -see, he’s such a benefactor to the chapel and is so entirely the leading -spirit, why, where would they be without him?” - -Mrs. Boniface murmured some kindly reply. It was quite true, as she knew -very well. James Horner was so entirely the rich and generous head of -the congregation that everything had to give way to him, and the -minister was not a little hampered in consequence. It was perhaps the -perception of this which made Mr. Boniface, an equally rich and generous -man, play a much more quiet part. He worked quite as hard to further the -good of the congregation, but his work was much less apparent, nor did -he ever show the least symptom of that love of power which was the bane -of James Horner’s existence. - -Whether Mr. Boniface entirely approved of this children’s fancy-dress -dance, Sigrid could not feel sure. She fancied that, in spite of all his -kindly, tolerant spirit, he had an innate love of the older forms of -Puritanism, and that his quiet, home-keeping nature could not understand -at all the enjoyment of dancing or of character-dresses. Except with -regard to music, the artistic side of his nature was not highly -developed, and while his descent from Puritan forefathers had given him -an immense advantage in many ways, and had undoubtedly helped to make -him the conscientious, liberty loving, God-fearing man he was, yet it -had also given him the Puritan tendency to look with distrust on many -innocent enjoyments. He was always fearful of what these various forms -of amusement might lead to. But he forgot to think of what dullness and -dearth of amusement might lead to, and had not fully appreciated the -lesson which Englishmen must surely have been intended to learn from the -violent reaction of the Restoration after the restrictions of the -Commonwealth. - -But no matters of opinion ever made even a momentary discomfort in that -happy household. Uniformity there was not, for they thought very -differently, and each held fast to his own view; but there was something -much higher than uniformity, there was unity, which is the outcome of -love. Little differences of practice came from time to time; they went -their various ways to church and chapel on Sunday, and Roy and Cecil -would go to hear Donati at the opera-house, while the father and mother -would have to wait till there was a chance of hearing the celebrated -baritone at St. James’s Hall; but in the great aims of life they were -absolutely united, and worked and lived in perfect harmony. At length -the great day came, and Mr. Boniface and Roy on their return from town -were greeted by a bewitching little figure on the stairs, with curly -hair combed out to its full length and a dainty suit of crimson velvet -trimmed with gold lace. - -“Why, who are you?” said Mr. Boniface, entering almost unconsciously -into the fun of the masquerade. - -“I’m Cinderella’s prince,” shouted Lance gleefully, and in the highest -spirits the little fellow danced in to show Frithiof his get-up, -capering all over the room in that rapturous enjoyment of childhood, the -sight of which is one of the purest pleasures of all true men and women. -Frithiof, who had been tired and depressed all day, brightened up at -once when Lance, who was very fond of him, came to sit on his knee in -that ecstasy of happy impatience which one only sees in children. - -“What is the time now?” he asked every two minutes. “Do you think it -will soon be time to go? Don’t you almost think you hear the carriage -coming?” - -“As for me,” said Sigrid, “I feel like Cinderella before the fairy -godmother came. You are sure Mrs. Horner will not mind this ordinary -black gown?” - -“Oh, dear, no,” said Cecil. “You see, she herself is in mourning; and -besides, you look charming, Sigrid.” - -The compliment was quite truthful, for Sigrid, in her quiet black dress, -which suited her slim figure to perfection, the simple folds of white -net about her neck, and the delicate blush roses and maidenhair which -Roy had gathered for her, certainly looked the most charming little -woman imaginable. - -“I wish you could come, too,” said Cecil, glancing at Frithiof, while -she swathed the little prince in a thick plaid. “It will be very pretty -to see all the children in costume.” - -“Yes,” he replied; “but my head would never stand the noise and the -heat. I am better here.” - -“We shall take great care of him,” said Mrs. Boniface; “and you must -tell us all about it afterward. Don’t keep Lance up late if he seems to -get tired, dearie. Good-by, and mind you enjoy yourself.” - -“There goes a happy quartet,” said Mr. Boniface, as he closed the door -behind them. “But here, to my way of thinking, is a more enviable trio. -Did you ever see this book, Frithiof?” - -Since his illness they had fallen into the habit of calling him by his -Christian name, for he had become almost like one of the family. Even in -his worst days they had all been fond of him, and now in these days of -his convalescence, when physical suffering had brought out the gentler -side of his nature, and his strength of character was shown rather in -silent patience than in dogged and desperate energy, as of old, he had -won all hearts. The proud, willful isolation which had made his -fellow-workers detest him had been broken down at length, and gratitude -for all the kindness he had received at Rowan Tree House had so changed -him that it seemed unlikely that he would ever sink again into such an -extremity of hard bitterness. His laughter over the book which Mr. -Boniface had brought him seemed to his host and hostess a promising -sign, and over “Three in Norway” these three in England passed the -pleasant evening which Mr. Boniface had predicted. - -Meanwhile Sigrid was thoroughly enjoying herself. True, Mr. and Mrs. -Horner were vulgar, and now and then said things which jarred on her, -but with all their failings they had a considerable share of genuine -kindliness, and the very best side of them showed that night, as they -tried to make all their guests happy. A children’s party generally does -call out whatever good there is in people; unkind gossip is seldom heard -at such a time, and people are never bored, for they are infected by the -genuine enjoyment of the little ones, the dancers who do not, as in -later life, wear masks, whose smiles are the smiles of real and intense -happiness, whose laughter is so inspiriting. It was, moreover, the first -really gay scene which had met Sigrid’s eyes for nearly a year, and she -enjoyed to the full the quaint little cavaliers, the tiny court ladies, -with their powdered hair and their patches; the Red Riding-hoods and -Bo-Peeps; the fairies and the peasants; the Robin Hoods and Maid -Marians. The dancing was going on merrily when Mme. Lechertier was -announced, and Sigrid looked up with interest to see what the lady who -was pronounced to be “quite a character” was like. She was a tall and -wonderfully graceful woman, with an expressive but plain face. In repose -her expression was decidedly autocratic, but she had a most charming -smile, and a perfect manner. The Norwegian girl took a great fancy to -her, and the feeling was mutual, for the great Mme. Lechertier, who, it -was rumored, was of a keenly critical disposition, instantly noticed -her, and turned to the hostess with an eager question. - -“What a charming face that golden-haired girl has!” she said in her -outspoken and yet courteous way. “With all her simplicity there is such -a pretty little touch of dignity. See how perfect her bow is! What is -her name? And may I not be introduced to her?” - -“She is a friend of my cousin’s,” explained Mrs. Horner, glad to claim -this sort of proprietorship in any one who had called forth compliments -from the lips of so critical a judge. - -“She is Norwegian, and her name is Falck.” - -Sigrid liked the bright, clever, majestic-looking Frenchwoman better -than ever after she had talked with her. There was, indeed, in Mme. -Lechertier something very refreshing. Her chief charm was that she was -so utterly unlike any one else. There was about her an individuality -that was really astonishing, and when you heard her talk you felt the -same keen sense of novelty and interest that is awakened by the first -sight of a foreign country. She in her turn was enchanted by Sigrid’s -perfect naturalness and vivacity, and they had become fast friends, when -presently a pause in the music made them both look up. - -The pianist, a pale, worn-looking lady, whose black silk dress had an -ominously shiny back, which told its tale of poverty, all at once broke -down, and her white face touched Sigrid’s heart. - -“I think she is faint,” she exclaimed. “Do you think I might offer to -play for her?” - -“It is a kind thought,” said Mme. Lechertier, and she watched with -interest while the pretty Norwegian girl hastened to the piano, and with -a few hurried words relieved the pianist, who beat a hasty retreat into -the cooler air of the hall. - -She played extremely well, and being herself a born dancer, entered into -the spirit of the waltz in a way which her predecessor had wholly failed -to do. Mme. Lechertier was delighted, and when by and by Sigrid was -released she rejoined her, and refused to be borne off to the -supper-room by Mr. Horner. - -“No, no,” she said; “let the little people be attended to first. Miss -Falck and I mean to have a quiet talk here.” - -So Sigrid told her something of her life at Bergen, and of the national -love of music and dancing, and thoroughly interested her. - -“And when do you return?” asked Mme. Lechertier. - -“That depends on whether I can find work in England,” replied Sigrid. -“What I wish is to stay in London with my brother. He has been very ill, -and I do not think he ought to live alone.” - -“What sort of work do you wish for?” asked Madame Lechertier. - -“I would do anything,” said Sigrid. “But the worst of it is everything -is so crowded already, and I have no very special talent.” - -“My dear,” said Madame Lechertier, “it seems to me you have a very -decided talent. You play dance music better than any one I ever heard, -and that is saying a good deal. Why do you not turn this to account?” - -“Do you think I could?” asked Sigrid, her eyes lighting up eagerly. “Do -you really think I could earn my living by it?” - -“I feel sure of it,” said Madame Lechertier. “And if you seriously think -the idea is good I will come and discuss the matter with you. I hear you -are a friend of my old pupil, Miss Boniface.” - -“Yes, we are staying now at Rowan Tree House; they have been so good to -us.” - -“They are delightful people—the father is one of nature’s true -gentlemen. I shall come and see you, then, and talk this over. To-morrow -morning, if that will suit you.” - -Sigrid went home in high spirits, and the next day, when as usual she -and Frithiof were alone in the morning-room after breakfast, she told -him of Madame Lechertier’s proposal, and while they were still -discussing the matter the good lady was announced. - -Now, like many people, Madame Lechertier was benevolent by impulse. Had -Sigrid been less attractive, she would not have gone out of her way to -help her; but the Norwegian girl had somehow touched her heart. - -“It will be a case of ‘Colors seen by candlelight will not look the same -by day,’” she had reflected as she walked to Rowan Tree House. “I shall -find my pretty Norse girl quite commonplace and uninteresting, and my -castle in the air will fall in ruins.” - -But when she was shown into the room where Sigrid sat at work, all her -fears vanished. “The girl has bewitched me!” she thought to herself. -“And the brother, what a fine-looking fellow! There is a history behind -that face if I’m not mistaken.” - -“We have just been talking over what you said to me last night, Madame,” -said Sigrid brightly. - -“The question is,” said Madame Lechertier, “whether you are really in -earnest in seeking work, and whether you will not object to my proposal. -The fact is that the girl who for some time has played for me at my -principal classes is going to be married. I have, of course, another -assistant upon whom I can, if need be, fall back; but she does not -satisfy me, we do not work well together, and her playing is not to be -compared to yours. I should only need you in the afternoon, and during -the three terms of the year. Each term is of twelve weeks, and the -salary I should offer you would be £24 a term—£2 a week, you see.” - -“Oh, Frithiof!” cried Sigrid, in great excitement, “we should be able to -help Swanhild. We could have her over from Norway. Surely your salary -and mine together would keep us all?” - -“Who is Swanhild?” asked Madame Lechertier. - -“She is our little sister, Madame. She is much younger—only eleven years -old, and as we are orphans, Frithiof and I are her guardians.” - -Madame Lechertier looked at the two young faces, smiling to think that -they should be already burdened with the cares of guardianship. It -touched her, and yet at the same time it was almost comical to hear -these two young things gravely talking about their ward. - -“You see,” said Frithiof, “there would be her education; one must not -forget that.” - -“But at the high schools it is very cheap, is it not, Madame?” said -Sigrid. - -“About ten pounds a year,” said Madame Lechertier. “What is your little -sister like, because if she is at all like you—” - -“Here is her photograph,” said Sigrid, unfastening her writing-case and -taking out Swanhild’s picture. “This is taken in her peasant costume -which she used to wear sometimes for fun when when we were in the -country. It suits her very well, I think.” - -“But she is charming,” cried Madame Lechertier. “Such a dainty little -figure—such well-shaped legs! My dear, I have a bright thought—an -inspiration. Send for your little Swanhild, and when you come to me each -afternoon bring her also in this fascinating costume. She shall be my -little pupil-teacher, and though, of course, her earnings would be but -small, yet they would more than cover her education at a high school, -and she would be learning a useful profession into the bargain.” - -She glanced at Frithiof and saw quite plainly that he shrank from the -idea, and that it would go hard with his proud nature to accept such an -offer. She glanced at Sigrid, and saw that the sister was ready to -sacrifice anything for the sake of getting the little girl to England. -Then, having as much tact as kindness, she rose to go. - -“You will talk it over between you and let me know your decision,” she -said pleasantly. “Consult Mr. and Mrs. Boniface, and let me know in a -day or two. Why should you not come in to afternoon tea with me -to-morrow, for I shall be at home for once, and can show you my -canaries? Cecil will bring you. She and I are old friends.” - -When she was gone Sigrid returned to the room with dancing eyes. - -“Is she not delightful!” she cried. “For myself, Frithiof, I can’t -hesitate for a moment. The work will be easy, and she will be thoroughly -kind.” - -“She has a bad temper,” said Frithiof. - -“How do you know?” - -“Because no sweet-tempered woman ever had such a straight, thin-lipped -mouth.” - -“I think you are very horrid to pick holes in her when she has been so -kind to us. For myself I must accept. But how about Swanhild?” - -“I hate the thought for either of you,” said Frithiof moodily. - -Somehow, though his own descent in the social scale had been -disagreeable enough, yet it had not been so intolerable to him as this -thought of work for his sisters. - -“Now, Frithiof, don’t go and be a goose about it,” said Sigrid -caressingly. “If we are ever to have a nice, cosy little home together -we must certainly work at something, and we are not likely to get -lighter, or more congenial, or better-paid work than this. Come, dear, -you have got, as Lance would say, to ‘grin and bear it.’” - -He sighed. - -“In any case, we must give Swanhild herself a voice in the matter,” he -said at length. “Accept the offer if you like, provisionally, and let us -write to her and tell her about it.” - -“Very well, we will write a joint letter and give her all sorts of -guardianly advice. But, all the same, you know as well as I do that -Swanhild will not hesitate for a moment. She is dying to come to -England, and she is never so happy as when she is dancing.” - -Frithiof thought of that day long ago, when he had come home after -meeting the Morgans at the Bergen landing quay, and had heard Sigrid -playing as he walked up the garden path, and had found Swanhild dancing -so merrily with Lillo, and the old refrain that had haunted him then -returned to him now in bitter mockery: - - “To-day is just a day to my mind; - All sunny before and sunny behind, - Over the heather.” - -When Roy came home that evening the matter was practically decided. -Frithiof and Sigrid had had a long talk in the library with Mr. and Mrs. -Boniface, and by and by in the garden Sigrid told him gleefully what she -called the “good news.” - -“I can afford to laugh now at my aluminium pencils and the embroidery -patterns, and the poodle shaving,” she said gayly. “Was it not lucky -that we happened to go to Mrs. Horner’s party, and that everything -happened just as it did?” - -“Do you really like the prospect?” asked Roy. - -“Indeed I do. I haven’t felt so happy for months. For now we need never -again be parted from Frithiof. It will be the best thing in the world -for him to have a comfortable little home; and I shall take good care -that he doesn’t work too hard. Mr. Boniface has been so good. He says -that Frithiof can have some extra work to do if he likes; he can attend -some of your concerts, and arrange the platform between the pieces; and -this will add nicely to his salary. And then, too, when he heard that I -had quite decided on accepting Mme. Lechertier’s offer, he proposed -something else for us too.” - -“What was that?” said poor Roy, his heart sinking down like lead. - -“Why, he thinks that he might get us engagements to play at children’s -parties or small dances. Frithiof’s violin playing is quite good enough, -he says. And don’t you think it would be much better for him than poring -so long over that hateful work of Herr Sivertsen’s?” - -Roy was obliged to assent. He saw only too clearly that to speak to her -now of his love would be utterly useless—indeed, worse than useless. She -would certainly refuse him, and there would be an end of the pleasant -intercourse. Moreover, it would be far more difficult to help them, as -they were now able to do in various small ways. - -“Frithiof is rather down in the depths about it,” said Sigrid. “And I do -hope you will cheer him up. After all, it is very silly to think that -there is degradation in any kind of honest work. If you had known what -it was to live in dependence on relations for so long you would -understand how happy I am to-night. I, too, shall be able to help in -paying off the debts!” - -“Is her life also to be given up to that desperate attempt?” thought Roy -despondently. - -And if Sigrid had not been absorbed in her own happy thoughts, his -depression, and perhaps the cause of it, would have been apparent to -her. But she strolled along the garden path beside him, in blissful -ignorance, thinking of a busy, successful future, in which Roy Boniface -played no part at all. - -She was his friend, she liked him heartily. But that was all. Whether -their friendship could ever now deepen into love seemed doubtful. - - - - - CHAPTER XXI. - - -During the next few days Sigrid was absorbed in deep calculations. She -found that, exclusive of Swanhild’s small earnings, which would be -absorbed by her education and the few extras that might be needed, their -actual yearly income would be about £150. Frithiof’s work for Herr -Sivertsen, and whatever they might earn by evening engagements, could be -laid aside toward the fund for paying off the debts, and she thought -that they might perhaps manage to live on the rest. Mrs. Boniface seemed -rather aghast at the notion, and said she thought it impossible. - -“I don’t suppose that we shall spend as little on food as Frithiof did -when he was alone,” said Sigrid, “for he nearly starved himself; and I -don’t mean to allow him to try that again. I see that the great -difficulty will be rent, for that seems so high in London. We were -talking about it this morning, and Frithiof had a bright idea. He says -there are some very cheap flats—workmen’s model lodgings—that might -perhaps do for us; only of course we must make sure that they are quite -healthy before we take Swanhild there.” - -“Clean and healthy they are pretty sure to be,” said Mrs. Boniface, “but -I fancy they have strict rules which might be rather irksome to you. -Still, we can go and make inquiries. After all, you would in some ways -be better off than in ordinary lodgings, where you are at the mercy of -the landlady.” - -So that afternoon they went to an office where they could get -information as to model dwellings, and found that four rooms could be -obtained in some of them at the rate of seven and sixpence a week. At -this their spirits rose not a little, and they drove at once to a block -which was within fairly easy distance both of the shop and of the rooms -in which Madame Lechertier gave her afternoon dancing-classes. - -To outward view the model dwellings were certainly not attractive. The -great high houses with their uniform ugly color, the endless rows of -windows, all precisely alike; the asphalt courtyard in the center, -though tidy and clean, had a desolate look. Still, when you realized -that one might live in such a place for so small a sum, and thought of -many squalid streets where the rental would be twice as high, it was -more easy to appreciate these eminently respectable lodgings. - -“At present we have no rooms to let, sir,” was the answer of the -superintendent to Frithiof’s inquiry. - -Their spirits sank, but rose again when he added, “I think, though, we -are almost certain to have a set vacant before long.” - -“Could we see over them?” they asked. - -“Well, the set that will most likely be vacant belongs to a -north-country family, and I dare say they would let you look in. Here, -Jessie, ask your mother if she would mind just showing her rooms, will -you?” - -The child, glancing curiously at the visitors, led the way up flight -after flight of clean stone stairs, past wide-open windows, through -which the September wind blew freshly, then down a long passage until at -length she reached a door, which she threw open to announce their -advent. A pleasant-looking woman came forward and asked them to step in. - -“You’ll excuse the place being a bit untidy,” she said. “My man has just -got fresh work, and he has but now told me we shall have to be flitting -in a week’s time. We are going to Compton Buildings in the Goswell -Road.” - -After Rowan Tree House, the rooms, of course, felt tiny, and they were a -good deal blocked up with furniture, to say nothing of five small -children who played about in the kitchen. But the place was capitally -planned, every inch was turned to account, and Sigrid thought they might -live there very comfortably. She talked over sundry details with the -present owner. - -“There’s but one thing, miss, I complain of, and that is that they don’t -put in another cupboard or two,” said the good woman. “Give me another -cupboard and I should be quite content. But you see, miss, there’s -always a something that you’d like to alter, go where you will.” - -“I wonder,” said Sigrid, “if we took them, whether I could pay one of -the neighbors to do my share of sweeping and scrubbing the stairs, and -whether I could get them to scrub out these rooms once a week. You see, -I don’t think I could manage the scrubbing very well.” - -“Oh, miss, there would be no difficulty in that,” said the woman. -“There’s many that would be thankful to earn a little that way, and the -same with laundry work. You wont find no difficulty in getting that -done. There’s Mrs. Hallifield in the next set; she would be glad enough -to do it, I know, and you couldn’t have a pleasanter neighbor; she’s a -bit lonesome, poor thing, with her husband being so much away. He’s a -tram-car man, he is, and gets terrible long hours week-day and Sunday -alike.” - -Owing to the good woman’s north-country accent Sigrid had not been able -quite to follow this last speech, but she understood enough to awaken in -her a keen curiosity, and to show her that their new life might have -plenty of human interest in it. She looked out of one of the windows at -the big square of houses and tried to picture the hundreds of lives -which were being lived in them. - -“Do you know, I begin to like this great court-yard,” she said to Cecil. -“At first it looked to me dreary, but now it looks to me like a great, -orderly human hive; there is something about it that makes one feel -industrious.” - -“We will settle down here, then,” said Frithiof, smiling; “and you shall -be queen bee.” - -“You think it would not hurt Swanhild?” asked Sigrid, turning to Mrs. -Boniface. “The place seems to me beautifully airy.” - -“Indeed,” said Mrs. Boniface, “I think in many ways the place is most -comfortable, and certainly you could not do better, unless you give a -very much higher rent.” - -But nevertheless she sighed a little, for though she admired the -resolute way in which these two young things set to work to make the -best of their altered life, yet she could not help feeling that they -scarcely realized how long and tedious must be the process of slowly -economizing on a narrow income until the burden which they had taken on -their shoulders could at length be removed. Even to try to pay off debts -which must be reckoned by thousands out of precarious earnings which -would be counted by slow and toilsome units, seemed to her hopeless. Her -kind, gentle nature was without that fiber of dauntless resolution which -strengthened the characters of the two Norwegians. She did not -understand that the very difficulty of the task incited them to make the -attempt, nerved them for the struggle, and stimulated them to that -wonderful energy of patience which overcomes everything. - -As for Sigrid, she was now in her element. A true woman, she delighted -in the thought of having rooms of her own to furnish and arrange. She -thought of them by day, she dreamed of them by night; she pored over -store lists and furniture catalogues, and amused them all by her -comments. - -“Beds are ruinously dear,” she said, after making elaborate -calculations. “We must have three really comfortable ones since we mean -to work hard all day, and they must certainly be new; the three of them -with all their belongings will not leave very much out of twelve pounds, -I fear. But then as to chairs and tables they might well be second-hand, -and we wont go in for a single luxury; it will look rather bare, but -then there will be less trouble about cleaning and dusting.” - -“You will become such a domestic character that we shant know you,” said -Frithiof, laughing. “What do you think we can possibly furnish the rooms -on?” - -“Wait a moment and I’ll add up my list,” she said cheerfully. “I never -knew before how many things there were in a house that one can’t do well -without. Now that must surely be all. No, I have forgotten brushes and -brooms and such things. Now then for the adding up. You check me, Cecil, -for fear I make it too little—this is a terrible moment.” - -“Twenty-eight pounds,” exclaimed both girls in a breath. - -“You can surely never do it on that?” said Cecil. - -“It seems a great deal to me,” said Sigrid; “still, I have more than -that over from uncle’s fifty-pound check, even after Doctor Morris is -paid. No, on the whole, I think we need not worry, but may spend as much -as that with a clear conscience. The thing I am anxious about is my -weekly bill. Look here, we must somehow manage to live on one hundred -and forty-five pounds a year, that will leave five pounds in case of -illness or any great need. For charity it leaves nothing, but we can’t -give while we are in debt. Two pounds fifteen shillings a week for three -of us! Why, poor people live on far less.” - -“But then you are accustomed to such a different way of living,” said -Cecil. - -“That’s true. But still, I think it can somehow be done. You must still -go on with your sixpenny dinners, Frithiof, for it will fit in better. -Then as you and Swanhild will be out all day and I am out for a great -part of the year in the afternoon, I think our coals will last well, -only one fire for part of the day will surely not ruin us.” - -“Let me see that neatly arranged paper,” said Frithiof. “I have become -rather a connoisseur in the matter of cheap living, and you had better -take me into your counsels.” - -“You don’t know anything about it,” said Sigrid, laughing. “Yours was -not cheap living but cheap starving, which in the end is a costly -affair.” - -Frithiof did not argue the point, having in truth often known what -hunger meant in the old days; but he possessed himself of the paper and -studied it carefully. It contained for him much more than the bare -details, it was full of a great hope, of an eager expectation, the -smallness of each item represented a stepping-stone in the highway of -honor, a daily and hourly clearing of his father’s name. He looked long -at the carefully considered list. - - £ s. d. - - Food, 1 2 0 - Rent, 0 7 6 - Fuel and light, 0 2 0 - Laundress, 0 5 0 - Charwoman, 0 3 0 - Clothing, 0 14 0 - Extras, 0 1 6 - —— —— —— - Total, £2 15 0 - —— —— —— - -“With a clever manager it will be quite possible,” he said, “and you are -no novice, Sigrid, but have been keeping house for the last eleven -years.” - -“After a fashion,” she replied, “but old Gro really managed things. -However, I know that I shall really enjoy trying my hand at anything so -novel, and you will have to come and see me very often, Cecil, to -prevent my turning into a regular housekeeping drudge.” - -Cecil laughed and promised, and the two girls talked merrily together as -they stitched away at the household linen, Frithiof looking up from his -newspaper every now and then to listen. Things had so far brightened -with him that he was ready to take up his life again with patience, but -he had his days of depression even now, though, for Sigrid’s sake, he -tried not to give way more than could be helped. There was no denying, -however, that Blanche had clouded his life, and though he never -mentioned her name, and as far as possible crowded the very thought of -her out of his mind, resolutely turning to work, or books, or the lives -of others, yet her influence was still strong with him, and was one of -the worst foes he had to fight against. It was constantly mocking him -with the vanity of human hopes, with the foolishness of his perfect -trust which had been so grossly betrayed; it was an eternal temptation -to think less highly of women, to take refuge in cynical contempt, and -to sink into a hard, joyless skepticism. - -On the other hand, Sigrid, as his sister, and Cecil, as a perfectly -frank and outspoken friend, were no small help to him in the battle. -They could not altogether enter into his thoughts or wholly understand -the loneliness and bitterness of his life, any more than he could enter -into their difficulties, for, even when surrounded by those we love, it -is almost always true that - - “Our hermit spirits dwell and range apart.” - -But they made life a very different thing to him and gave him courage to -go on, for they were a continual protest against that lowered side of -womanhood that Blanche had revealed to him. One woman having done her -best to ruin the health alike of his body and his soul, it remained for -these two to counteract her bad influence, and to do for him all that -can be done by sisterly love and pure unselfish friendship. - -If there is one thing more striking to an observer of life than any -other it is the strange law of compensation, and its wholly unexpected -working. We see people whose lives are smooth and easy rendered -miserable by some very trifling cause. And, again, we see people whose -griefs and wrongs are heartrending, and behold in spite of their sorrows -they can take pleasure in some very slight amusement, which seems to -break into their darkened lives with a welcome brightness enhanced by -contrast. It was thus with Frithiof. He entered, as men seldom trouble -themselves to enter, into all the minutiæ of the furnishing, spent hours -in Roy’s workshop busy at the carpenter’s bench over such things as -could be made or mended, and enjoyed heartily the planning and arranging -which a year ago he would have voted an intolerable bore. - -At length the day came when they were to leave Rowan Tree House. Every -one was sorry to lose them, and they felt going very much, for it was -impossible to express how much those restful weeks had done for them -both. They each tried to say something of the sort to Mr. and Mrs. -Boniface, but not very successfully, for Sigrid broke down and cried, -and Frithiof felt that to put very deep gratitude into words is a task -which might well baffle the readiest speaker. However, there was little -need for speech on either side. - -“And when you want change or rest,” said Mrs. Boniface, shaking his hand -warmly, “you have only got to lock up your rooms and come down here to -us. There will always be a welcome ready for the three of you. Don’t -forget that.” - -“Let it be your second home,” said Mr. Boniface. - -Cecil, who was the one to feel most, said least. She merely shook hands -with him, made some trifling remark about the time of Swanhild’s train, -and wished him good-by; then, with a sore heart, watched the brother and -sister as they stepped into the carriage and drove away. - -That chapter of her life was over, and she was quite well aware that the -next chapter would seem terribly dull and insipid. For a moment the -thought alarmed her. - -“What have I been doing,” she said to herself, “to let this love get so -great a hold on me? Why is it that no other man in the world seems to me -worth a thought, even though he may be better, and may live a nobler -life than Frithiof?” - -She could not honestly blame herself, for it seemed to her that this -strange love had, as the poet says, “Slid into her soul like light.” -Unconsciously it had begun at their very first meeting on the steamer at -Bergen; it had caused that vague trouble and uneasiness which had seized -her at Balholm, and had sprung into conscious existence when Frithiof -had come to them in England, poor, heartbroken, and despairing. The -faithlessness of another woman had revealed to her the passionate -devotion which surged in her own heart, and during these weeks of close -companionship her love had deepened inexpressibly. She faced these facts -honestly, with what Mrs. Horner would have termed “an entire absence of -maidenly propriety.” For luckily Cecil was not in the habit of -marshalling her thoughts into the prim routine prescribed by the world -in general, she had deeper principles to fall back upon than the -conventionalities of such women as Mrs. Horner, and she did not think it -well either willfully to blind herself to the truth, or to cheat her -heart into believing a lie. Quite quietly she admitted to herself that -she loved Frithiof, with a pain which it was impossible to ignore, she -allowed that he did not love her, and that it was quite possible—nay, -highly probable—that she might never be fit to be more to him than a -friend. - -Here were the true facts, and she must make the best she could of them. -The thought somehow braced her up. Was “the best” to sit there in her -room sobbing as if her heart would break? How could her tears serve -Frithiof? How could they do anything but weaken her own character and -unfit her for work? They did not even relieve her, for such pain is to -be relieved, not by tears, but by active life. No, she must just go on -living and making the most of what had been given her, leaving the rest - - “In His high hand - Who doth hearts like streams command.” - -For her faith was no vague shadow, but a most practical reality, and in -all her pain she was certain that somehow this love of hers was to be of -use, as all real love is bound to be. She stood for some minutes at the -open window; a bird was perched on a tree close by, and she watched it -and noticed how, when suddenly it flew away, the branch quivered and -trembled. - -“It is after all only natural to feel this going away,” she reflected. -“Like the tree, I shall soon grow steady again.” And then she heard -Lance’s voice calling her, and, going to the nursery, found a childish -dispute in need of settling, and tiny arms to cling about her, and soft -kisses to comfort her. - -Meanwhile, Frithiof and Sigrid had reached the model lodgings, and, key -in hand, were toiling up the long flights of stone stairs. All had been -arranged on the previous day, and now, as they unlocked their door, the -moment seemed to them a grave one, for they were about to begin a new -and unknown life. Sigrid’s heart beat quickly as they entered the little -sitting-room. The door opened straight into it, which was a drawback, -but Mrs. Boniface’s present of a fourfold Japanese screen gave warmth -and privacy, and picturesqueness, by shutting off that corner from view; -and, in spite of extreme economy in furnishing, the place looked very -pretty. A cheerful crimson carpet covered the floor, the buff-colored -walls were bare indeed, for there was a rule against knocking in nails, -but the picture of Bergen stood on the mantel-piece between the -photographs of their father and mother, serving as a continual -remembrance of home and of a countryman’s kindness. Facing the fire was -a cottage piano lent by Mr. Boniface for as long as they liked to keep -it, and on the open shelves above a corner cupboard were ranged the blue -willow-pattern cups and saucers which Sigrid had delighted in buying. - -“They were much too effective to be banished to the kitchen, were they -not?” she said. “I am sure they are far prettier than a great deal of -the rare old china I have seen put up in drawing-rooms.” - -“How about the fire?” said Frithiof. “Shall I light it?” - -“Yes; do. We must have a little one to boil the kettle, and Swanhild is -sure to come in cold after that long journey. I’ll just put these -flowers into Cecil’s little vases. How lovely they are! Do you know, -Frithiof, I think our new life is going to be like the smell of these -chrysanthemums—healthy and good, and a sort of bitter-sweet.” - -“I never knew they had any smell,” he said, still intent on his fire. - -“Live and learn,” said Sigrid, laughingly holding out to him the basket -of beautiful flowers—red, white, crimson, yellow, russet, and in every -variety. - -He owned that she was right. And just as with the scent of violets there -always rose before him the picture of the crowded church, and of Blanche -in her bridal dress, so ever after the scent of chrysanthemums brought -back to him the bright little room and the flickering light of the newly -kindled fire, and Sigrid’s golden hair and sweet face. So that, in -truth, these flowers were to him a sort of tonic, as she had said, -“Healthy and good.” - -“I should like to come to King’s Cross too,” said Sigrid. “But perhaps -it is better that I should stay here and get things quite ready. I hope -Swanhild will turn up all right. She seems such a little thing to travel -all that way alone.” - -When he had set off, she began with great satisfaction to lay the table -for tea; the white cloth was certainly coarse; but she had bought it and -hemmed it, and declared that fine damask would not have suited the -willow-pattern plates nearly so well. Then, after a struggle, the tin of -pressed beef was opened, and the loaf and butter and the vases of -chrysanthemums put in their places, and the toast made and standing -before the fire to keep hot. After that she kept putting a touch here -and a touch there to one thing and another, and then standing back to -see how it looked, much as an artist does when finishing a picture. How -would it strike Swanhild? was the thought which was always with her. She -put everything tidy in the bare little kitchen, where, in truth, there -was not one unnecessary piece of furniture. She took some of Frithiof’s -things out of his portmanteau, and made his narrow little bedroom look -more habitable; and she lingered long in the room with the two beds side -by side, tidying and arranging busily, but running back into the -sitting-room every few minutes to see that all was well there. - -At last she heard the door-handle turned, and Frithiof’s voice. - -“You’ll find her quite a domesticated character,” he was saying; and in -another minute Swanhild was in her arms, none the worse for her lonely -journey, but very glad to feel her cares at an end. - -“Oh, Sigrid!” she cried, with childlike glee; “what a dear, funny little -room! And how cosy you have made it! Why, there’s the picture of Bergen! -and oh, what a pretty-looking tea-table! I’m dreadfully hungry, Sigrid. -I was afraid to get out of the train for fear it should go on. They seem -to go so dreadfully fast here, everything is in a bustle.” - -“You poor child, you must be starving!” cried Sigrid. “Come and take -your things off quickly. She really looks quite thin and pale, does she -not, Frithiof?” - -He glanced at the fair, merry little face, smiling at him from under its -fringe of golden hair. - -“She doesn’t feel so very bony,” he said, laughing. - -“Oh, and I did eat something,” explained Swanhild. “There was an old -lady who gave me two sandwiches, but they were so dreadfully full of -fat. I do really think there ought to be a law against putting fat in -sandwiches so that you bite a whole mouthful of it.” - -They all laugh, and Frithiof, who was unstrapping the box which he had -carried up, looked so cheerful and bright, that Sigrid began to think -Swanhild might prove a very valuable little companion. - -“What do you think of your new bedroom?” he asked. - -“It’s lovely!” cried Swanhild. “What a funny, round bath, and such a -tiny tin washing-stand, just like the one in the old doll’s house on -three legs. And oh, Sigrid, auntie has sent us three lovely eider-down -quilts as a Christmas present, only she thought I might as well bring -them now.” - -It was a very merry meal, that first tea in the model lodgings. Swanhild -had so much to tell them and so much to hear, and they lingered at the -table with a pleasant consciousness that actual work did not begin till -the following day. - -“There’s one thing which we had better make up our minds to at once,” -said Sigrid, when at length they rose. “Since we have got to wait on -ourselves, we may as well try to enjoy it and get what fun we can out of -it. Come, Swanhild, I will wash the tea-things and you shall dry them.” - -“As for me,” said Frithiof, suddenly appearing at the kitchen door in -his shirt sleeves, “I am shoe-black to the establishment.” - -“You! oh, Frithiof!” cried Swanhild, startled into gravity. There was -something incongruous in the idea of her big brother turning to this -sort of work. - -“I assure you it is in the bond,” he said, smiling. “Sigrid is cook and -housekeeper; you are the lady-help; and I am the man for the coals, -knives, and boots. Every respectable household has a man for that part -of the work, you know.” - -“Yes, yes,” she hesitated; “but you—” - -“She clearly doesn’t think me competent,” he said, laughingly -threatening her with his brush. - -“Order! order! you two, or there will be teacups broken,” said Sigrid, -laughing. “I believe he will do the boots quite scientifically, for he -has really studied the subject. There, put the china in the -sitting-room, Swanhild, on the corner shelves, and then we will come and -unpack.” - -By nine o’clock everything was arranged, and they came back to the -sitting-room, where Frithiof had lighted the pretty little lamp, and was -writing to Herr Sivertsen to say he would be glad of more work. - -“Come,” said Sigrid, “the evening wont be complete without some music, -and I am dying to try that piano. What shall be the first thing we play -in our new home, Swanhild?” - -“‘For Norge,’” said the little girl promptly. - -“Do you know we had quite a discussion about that at Rowan Tree House -the other night,” said Sigrid. “They were all under the impression that -it was an English air, and only knew it as a glee called “The Hardy -Norseman.” Mr. Boniface calls Frithiof his Hardy Norseman because he got -well so quickly.” - -“Come and sing, Frithiof, do come,” pleaded Swanhild, slipping her hand -caressingly into his and drawing him toward the piano. And willingly -enough he consented, and in their new home in this foreign land they -sang together the stirring national song— - - “To Norway, mother of the brave, - We crown the cup of pleasure, - And dream our freedom come again - And grasp the vanished treasure. - When once the mighty task’s begun, - The glorious race is swift to run; - To Norway, mother of the brave, - We crown the cup of pleasure. - - * * * * * - - “Then drink to Norway’s hills sublime, - Rocks, snows, and glens profound; - ‘Success!’ her thousand echoes cry, - And thank us with the sound. - Old Dovre mingles with our glee, - And joins our shouts with three times three. - Then drink to Norway’s hills sublime. - Rocks, snows, and glens profound.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXII. - - -“My dear, she is charming, your little Swanhild! She is a born dancer -and catches up everything with the greatest ease,” said Madame -Lechertier one autumn afternoon, when Sigrid at the usual time entered -the big, bare room where the classes were held. She was dressed at -madame’s request in her pretty peasant costume, and Swanhild, also, had -for the first time donned hers, which, unlike Sigrid’s, was made with -the shortest of skirts, and, as Madame Lechertier said, would prove an -admirable dress for a pupil teacher. - -“You think she will really be of use to you, Madame?” asked Sigrid, -glancing to the far end of the big room, where the child was, for her -own amusement, practicing a step which she had just learnt. “If she is -no good we should not of course like her to take any money.” - -“Yes, yes,” said Madame Lechertier, patting her on the shoulder -caressingly. “You are independent and proud, I know it well enough. But -I assure you, Swanhild will be a first-rate little teacher, and I am -delighted to have her. There is no longer any need for her to come to me -every morning, for I have taught her all that she will at present need, -and no doubt you are in a hurry for her to go on with her ordinary -schooling.” - -“I have arranged for her to go to a high school, in the mornings, after -Christmas,” said Sigrid, “and she must, till then, work well at her -English or she will not take a good place. It will be a very busy life -for her, but then we are all of us strong and able to get through a good -deal.” - -“And her work with me is purely physical and will not overtask her,” -said Madame, glancing with approving eyes at the pretty little figure at -the end of the room. “Dear little soul! she has the most perfect manners -I ever saw in a child! Her charm to me is that she is so bright and -unaffected. What is it, I wonder, that makes you Norwegians so -spontaneous? so perfectly simple and courteous?” - -“In England,” said Sigrid, “people seem to me to have two sides, a rough -home side, and a polite society side. The Bonifaces reverse the order -and keep their beautiful side for home and a rather shy side for -society, but still they, like all the English people I have met, have -distinctly two manners. In Norway there is nothing of that. I think -perhaps we think less about the impression we are making; and I think -Norwegians more naturally respect each other.” - -She was quite right; it was this beautiful respect, this reverence for -the rights and liberties of each other, that made the little home in the -model lodgings so happy; while her own sunny brightness and sweetness of -temper made the atmosphere wholesome. Frithiof, once more amid congenial -surroundings, seemed to regain his native courtesy, and though Mr. -Horner still disliked him, most of those with whom he daily came in -contact learnt at any rate to respect him, and readily forgave him his -past pride and haughtiness when they learnt how ill he had been and saw -what a change complete recovery had wrought in him. - -Swanhild prospered well on that first Saturday afternoon, and Madame -Lechertier was quite satisfied with her little idea as to the Norwegian -costumes; the pretty foreigner at the piano, and the dainty little Norse -girl who danced so bewitchingly, caused quite a sensation in the class, -and the two sisters went home in high spirits, delighted to have pleased -their kind-hearted employer. They had only just returned and taken off -their walking things when there came a loud knock at the door. Swanhild -still in her Hardanger dress ran to see what was wanted, and could -hardly help laughing at the funny-looking old man who inquired whether -Frithiof were in. - -“Still out, you say,” he panted; “very provoking. I specially wanted to -see him on a matter of urgency.” - -“Will you not come in and wait?” said the child. “Frithiof will soon be -home.” - -“Thank you,” said old Herr Sivertsen. “These stairs are terrible work. I -shall be glad not to have to climb them again. But houses are all alike -in London—all alike! Story after story, till they’re no better than the -Tower of Babel.” - -Sigrid came forward with her pretty, bright greeting and made the old -man sit down by the fire. - -“Frithiof has gone for a walk with a friend of his,” she explained. “But -he will be home in a few minutes. I always persuade him to take a good -walk on Saturday if possible.” - -“In consequence of which he doesn’t get through half as much work for -me,” said Herr Sivertsen. “However, you are quite right. He needed more -exercise. Is he quite well again?” - -“Quite well, thank you; though I suppose he will never be so strong as -he once was,” she said a little sadly. “You see, overwork and trouble -and poor living must in the long run injure even a strong man.” - -“There are no strong men nowadays, it seems to me,” said the old author -gruffly. “They all knock up sooner or later—a degenerate race—a -worthless generation.” - -“Well, the doctor says he must have had a very fine constitution to have -recovered so fast,” said Sigrid. “Still, I feel rather afraid sometimes -of his doing too much again. Were you going to suggest some more work -for him?” - -“Yes, I was; but perhaps it is work in which you could help him,” said -Herr Sivertsen, and he explained to her his project. - -“If only I could make time for it,” she cried. “But you see we all have -very busy lives. I have to see to the house almost entirely, and there -is always either mending or making in hand. And Swanhild and I are out -every afternoon at Madame Lechertier’s academy. By the by, that is why -we have on these peasant costumes, which must have surprised you.” - -“It is a pretty dress, and takes me back to my old days at home,” said -Herr Sivertsen. “As to the work, do what you can of it, there is no -immediate hurry. Here comes your brother!” and the old man at once -button-holed Frithiof, while Roy, who had returned with him, was ready -enough to talk with Sigrid as she stood by the fire making toast, little -Swanhild in the mean time setting the table for afternoon tea, lighting -the lamp, and drawing the curtains. - -Herr Sivertsen found himself drinking tea before he knew what he was -about, and the novelty of the little household quite shook him out of -his gruff surliness. Strange bygone memories came floating back to him -as he listened to the two girls’ merry talk, watched them as suddenly -they broke into an impromptu dance, and begged them to sing to him the -old tunes which for so many years he had not heard. - -“I am sorry to say,” observed Sigrid, laughing, “that our next-door -neighbor, Mrs. Hallifield, tells me the general belief in the house is -that we belong to the Christy Minstrels. English people don’t seem to -understand that one can dance and sing at home for pure pleasure and not -professionally.” - -After that the old author often paid them a visit, and they learned to -like him very much and to enjoy his tirades against the degenerate -modern race. And thus with hard work, enlivened now and then by a visit -to Rowan Tree House, or by a call from the Bonifaces, the winter slipped -by, and the trees grew green once more, and they were obliged to own -that even this smoky London had a beauty all its own. - -“Did you ever see anything so lovely as all this pink may and yellow -laburnum?” cried Sigrid, as one spring evening she and Frithiof walked -westward to fulfill one of the evening engagements to which they had now -become pretty well accustomed. - -“No; we had nothing equal to this at Bergen,” he admitted, and in very -good spirits they walked on, past the great wealthy houses; he with his -violin-case, and she with a big roll of music, well content with the -success they had worked hard to win, and not at all disposed to envy the -West End people. It was indeed a great treat to Sigrid to have a glimpse -of so different a life. She had toiled so often up the long stone -stairs, that to be shown up a wide, carpeted staircase, into which one’s -feet seemed to sink as into moss, was a delightful change, and snugly -ensconced in her little corner behind the piano, she liked to watch the -prettily decorated rooms and the arrival of the gayly dressed people. -Frithiof, who had at first greatly disliked this sort of work, had -become entirely accustomed to it: it no longer hurt his pride, for -Sigrid had nearly succeeded in converting him to her doctrine, that a -noble motive ennobles any work; and if ever things annoyed him or chafed -his independence, he thought of the debts at Bergen, and was once more -ready to endure anything. This evening he happened to be particularly -cheerful; things had gone well lately at the shop; his health was -increasing every day, and the home atmosphere had done a great deal to -banish the haunting thoughts of the past which in solitude had so preyed -on his mind. They discussed the people in Norwegian during the -intervals, and in a quiet way were contriving to get a good deal of fun -out of the evening, when suddenly their peace was invaded by the -unexpected sight of the very face which Frithiof had so strenuously -tried to exile from his thoughts. They had just finished a waltz. Sigrid -looked up from her music and saw, only a few yards distant from her, the -pretty willowy figure, the glowing face and dark eyes and siren-like -smile of Lady Romiaux. For a moment her heart seemed to stop beating, -then with a wild hope that possibly Frithiof might not have noticed her, -she turned to him with intense anxiety. But his profile looked as though -it were carved in white stone, and she saw only too plainly that the -hope was utterly vain. - -“Frithiof,” she said in Norwegian, “you are faint. Go out into the cool -and get some water before the next dance.” - -He seemed to hear her voice, but not to take in her words; there was a -dazed look in his face, and such despair in his eyes that her heart -failed her. All the terrible dread for his health again returned to her. -It seemed as if nothing could free him from the fatal influence which -Blanche had gained over him. - -How she longed to get up and rush from the house! How she loathed that -woman who stood flirting with the empty-headed man standing at her side! -If it had not been for her perfidy how different all might now be! - -“I can’t help hating her!” thought poor Sigrid. “She has ruined -Frithiof’s life, and now in one moment has undone the work of months. -She brought about my father’s failure; if she had been true we should -not now be toiling to pay off these terrible debts—hundreds of homes in -Bergen would have been saved from a cruel loss—and he—my father—he might -have been alive and well! How can I help hating her?” - -At that moment Blanche happened to catch sight of them. The color -deepened in her cheeks. - -“Have they come to that?” she thought. “Oh, poor things! How sorry I am -for them! Papa told me Herr Falck had failed; but to have sunk so low! -Well, since they lost all their money it was a mercy that all was over -between us. And yet, if I had been true to him—” - -Her companion wondered what made her so silent all at once. But in truth -poor Blanche might well be silent, for into her mind there flashed a -dreadful vision of past sins; standing there in the ball-room in her gay -satin dress and glittering diamonds, there had come to her, almost for -the first time, a sense of responsibility for the evil she had wrought. -It was not Frithiof’s life alone that she had rendered miserable. She -had sinned far more deeply against her husband, and though in a sort of -bravado she tried to persuade herself that she cared for nothing, and -accepted the invitations sent her by the people who would still receive -her at their houses, she was all the time most wretched. So strangely -had good and evil tendencies been mingled in her nature that she caught -herself wondering sometimes whether she really was one woman; she had -her refined side and her vulgar side; she could be one day -tender-hearted and penitent, and the next day a hard woman of the world; -she could at one time be the Blanche of that light-hearted Norwegian -holiday, and at another the Lady Romiaux of notoriety. - -“How extraordinary that I should chance to meet my Viking here!” she -thought to herself. “How very much older he looks! How very much his -face has altered! One would have thought that to come down in the world -would have cowed him a little; but it seems somehow to have given him -dignity. I positively feel afraid of him. I, who could once turn him -round my finger—I, for whom he would have died! How ridiculous of me to -be afraid! After all, I could soon get my old power over him if I chose -to try. I will go and speak to them; it would be rude not to notice them -in their new position, poor things.” - -With a word of explanation to her partner she hastily crossed over to -the piano. But when she met Frithiof’s eyes her heart began to beat -painfully, and once more the feeling of fear returned to her. He looked -very grave, very sad, very determined. The greeting which she had -intended to speak died away on her lips; instead, she said, rather -falteringly: - -“Will you tell me the name of the last waltz?” - -He bowed, and began to turn over the pile of music to find the piece. - -“Frithiof,” she whispered, “have you forgotten me? Have you nothing to -say to me?” - -But he made as though he did not hear her, gravely handed her the music, -then, turning away, took up his violin and signed to Sigrid to begin the -next dance. - -Poor Blanche was eagerly claimed by her next partner, and with burning -cheeks and eyes bright with unshed tears, was whirled off though her -feet seemed weighted and almost refused to keep time with that violin -whose tones seemed to tear her heart. “I have no longer any power over -him,” she thought. “I have so shocked and disgusted him that he will not -even recognize me—will not answer me when I speak to him! How much -nobler he is than these little toads with whom I have to dance, these -wretches who flatter me, yet all the time despise me in their hearts! -Oh, what a fool I have been to throw away a heart like that, to be -dazzled by a mere name, and, worst of all, to lose not only his love but -his respect! I shall see his face in a moment as we go past that corner. -There he is! How sad and stern he looks, and how resolutely he goes on -playing! I shall hate this tune all my life long. I have nothing left -but the power to give him pain—I who long to help him, who am tortured -by this regret!” - -All this time she was answering the foolish words of her partner at -random. And the evening wore on, and she laughed mechanically and talked -by rote, and danced, oh, how wearily! thinking often of a description of -the Inferno she had lately seen in one of the magazines, in which the -people were obliged to go on pretending to amuse themselves, and -dancing, as she now danced, when they only longed to lie down and die. - -“But, after all, I can stop,” she reflected. “I am not in the Inferno -yet—at least I suppose not, though I doubt if it can be much worse than -this. How pretty and innocent that little fair-haired girl looks—white -net and lilies of the valley; I should think it must be her first dance. -Will she ever grow like me, I wonder? Perhaps some one will say to her, -‘That is the celebrated Lady Romiaux.’ Perhaps she will read the -newspapers when the case comes on, as it must come soon. They may do her -terrible harm. Oh, if only I could undo the past! I never thought of all -this at the time. I never thought till now of any one but myself.” - -That thought of the possibility of stopping the dismal mockery of -enjoyment came to her again, and she eagerly seized the first -opportunity of departure; but when once the strain of the excitement was -over her strength all at once evaporated. Feeling sick and faint, she -lay back in a cushioned chair in the cloak-room; her gold plush mantle -and the lace mantilla which she wore on her head made her look ghastly -pale, and the maid came up to her with anxious inquiries. - -“It is nothing but neuralgia,” she replied wearily. “Let them call my -carriage.” - -And then came a confused sound of wheels outside in the street and -shouts echoing through the night, while from above came the sound of the -dancers, and that resolute, indefatigable violin still going on with the -monotonous air of “Sir Roger de Coverley,” as though it were played by a -machine rather than by a man with a weary head and a heavy heart. -Blanche wandered back to recollections of Balholm; she saw that merry -throng in the inn parlor, she saw Ole Kvikne with his kindly smile, and -Herr Falck with his look of content, and she flew down the long lines of -merry dancers once more to meet Frithiof—the boyish, happy-looking -Frithiof with whom she had danced “Sir Roger” two years ago. - -“Lady Romiaux’s carriage is at the door,” said a voice, and she hastily -got up, made her way through the brightly lighted hall, and with a sense -of relief stepped into her brougham. Still the violin played on, its gay -tune ringing out with that strange sadness which dance music at a -distance often suggests. Blanche could bear it no longer; she drew up -the carriage window, sank back into the corner, and broke into a -passionate fit of weeping. - -It was quite possible for Lady Romiaux to go, but the dance was not yet -over, and Frithiof and Sigrid had, of course, to stay to the bitter end. -Sigrid, tired as she was herself, had hardly a thought for anything -except her twin. As that long, long evening wore on it seemed to her -that if possible she loved him better than she had ever done before; his -quiet endurance appealed to her very strongly, but for his sake she -eagerly wished for the end, for she saw by the look of his forehead that -one of his worst headaches had come on. - -And at length the programme had been toiled through. She hurried -downstairs to put on her cloak and hat, rejoining Frithiof in a few -minutes in the crowded hall, where he stood looking, to her fond fancy, -a thousand times nobler and grander than any of the other men about him. - -He gave a sigh of relief as they passed from the heated atmosphere of -the house into the cool darkness without. The stars were still visible, -but faint tokens of the coming dawn were already to be seen in the -eastern sky. The stillness was delightful after the noise of the music -and dancing, which had so jarred upon him; but he realized now how great -the strain had been, and even out here in the quiet night it seemed to -him that shadowy figures were being whirled past him, and that Blanche’s -eyes were still seeking him out. - -“You are very tired?” asked Sigrid, slipping her arm into his. - -“Yes, tired to death,” he said. “It is humiliating for a fellow to be -knocked up by so little.” - -“I do not call it ‘little,’” she said eagerly. “You know quite well it -was neither the heat nor the work which tired you. Oh, Frithiof, how -could that woman dare to speak to you!” - -“Hush!” he said sadly. “Talking only makes it worse. I wish you would -drive the thought out of my head with something else. Say me some -poetry—anything.” - -“I hardly know what I can say unless it is an old poem that Cecil gave -me when we were at Rowan Tree House, but I don’t think it is in your -style quite.” - -“Anything will do,” he said. - -“Well, you shall have it then; it is an old fourteenth-century hymn.” -And in her clear voice she repeated the following lines as they walked -home through the deserted streets: - - “Fighting the battle of life, - With a weary heart and head; - For in the midst of the strife - The banners of joy are fled! - Fled, and gone out of sight, - When I thought they were so near, - And the murmur of hope this night - Is dying away on my ear. - - Fighting alone to-night, - With not even a stander-by - To cheer me on in the fight, - Or to hear me when I cry; - Only the Lord can hear, - Only the Lord can see, - The struggle within, how dark and drear, - Though quiet the outside be. - - Lord, I would fain be still - And quiet behind my shield, - But make me to know Thy will, - For fear I should ever yield; - Even as now my hands, - So doth my folded will, - Lie waiting Thy commands, - Without one anxious thrill. - - But as with sudden pain - My hands unfold and clasp, - So doth my will stand up again - And take its old firm grasp; - Nothing but perfect trust, - And love of Thy perfect will, - Can raise me out of the dust, - And bid my fears be still. - - Oh, Lord, Thou hidest Thy face, - And the battle-clouds prevail; - Oh, grant me Thy sweet grace, - That I may not utterly fail. - Fighting alone to-night, - With what a beating heart! - Lord Jesus in the fight, - Oh! stand not Thou apart!” - -He made no comment at all when she had ended the poem, but in truth it -had filled his mind with other thoughts. And the dim, dreary streets -through which they walked, and the gradually increasing light in the -east, seemed like a picture of his own life, for there dawned for him in -his sadness a clearer revelation of the Unseen than had ever before been -granted him. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIII. - - -It seemed to Sigrid that she had hardly gone to bed before it was time -to get up again; she sleepily wished that Londoners would give dances at -more reasonable hours, then, remembering all that had happened, she -forgot her own weariness and turned with an eager question to Swanhild. -It was the little sister’s daily duty to go in and wake Frithiof up, a -task of some difficulty, for either his bad habit of working at night -during his lonely year in town, or else his illness, had left him with a -tendency to be wide awake between twelve and two and sound asleep -between six and seven. - -“You haven’t called him yet, have you?” asked Sigrid, rubbing her eyes. - -“No, but it is quite time,” said Swanhild, shutting up her atlas and -rearing up in the bed where she had been luxuriously learning geography. - -“Oh, leave him a little longer,” said Sigrid. “We were so late last -night, and his head was so bad, that I don’t suppose he has had much -sleep. And, Swanhild, whatever you do, don’t speak of the dance to him -or ask him any questions. As ill luck would have it Lady Romiaux was -there.” - -Now Swanhild was a very imaginative child, and she was just at the age -when girls form extravagant adorations for women. At Balholm she had -worshiped Blanche; even when told afterward how badly Frithiof had been -treated her love had not faltered, she had invented every possible -excuse for her idol, and though never able to speak of her, still -cherished a little hoard of souvenirs of Balholm. There is something -laughable and yet touching in these girlish adorations, and as -safeguards against premature thoughts of real love they are certainly -worthy of all encouragement. Men were at present nothing at all to her -but a set of big brothers, who did well enough as playfellows. All the -romance of her nature was spent on an ideal Blanche—how unlike the real -Lady Romiaux innocent Swanhild never guessed. While the world talked -hard things, this little Norwegian girl was secretly kissing a fir-cone, -which Blanche had once picked up on their way to the priest’s _saeter_, -or furtively unwrapping a withered rose which had been fastened in -Blanche’s hair at the merry dance on that Saturday night. Her heart beat -so fast that she felt almost choked when Sigrid suddenly mentioned Lady -Romiaux’s name. - -“How was she looking?” she asked, turning away her blushing face with -the most comical parody of a woman’s innate tendency to hide her love. - -“Oh, she was looking just as usual, as pretty, and as siren-like as -ever, wretched woman!” Then, remembering that Swanhild was too young to -hear all the truth, she suddenly drew up. “But there, don’t speak of her -any more. I never wish to hear her name again.” - -Poor Swanhild sighed; she thought Sigrid very hard and unforgiving, and -this made her cling all the more to her beloved ideal; it was true she -had been faithless to Frithiof, but no doubt she was very sorry by this -time, and as the child knelt down to say her morning prayers she paused -long over the petition for “Blanche,” which for all this time had never -been omitted once. - -Frithiof came to breakfast only a few minutes before the time when he -had to start for business. His eyes looked very heavy, and his face had -the pale, set look which Sigrid had learnt to interpret only too well. -She knew that while they had been sleeping he had been awake, struggling -with those old memories which at times would return to him; he had -conquered, but the conquest had left him weary, and exhausted and -depressed. - -“If only she had been true to him!” thought Swanhild. “Poor Blanche! if -he looked at all like this last night how terribly sorry she must have -felt.” - -After all, the child with her warm-hearted forgiveness, and her scanty -knowledge of facts, was perhaps a good deal nearer the truth than -Sigrid. Certainly Blanche was not the ideal of her dreams, but she was -very far from being the hopelessly depraved character that Sigrid deemed -her; she was a woman who had sinned very deeply, but she was not utterly -devoid of heart, and there were gleams of good in her to which the -Norwegian girl, in her hot indignation, was altogether blind. Sigrid was -not faultless, and as with Frithiof, so there lingered too with her a -touch of the fierce, unforgiving spirit which had governed their Viking -ancestors. - -More than once that morning as she moved about her household tasks she -said under her breath—“I wish that woman were dead!—I wish she were -dead!” - -“You don’t look well this morning, Mr. Falck,” said the foreman, a -cheerful, bright-eyed, good-hearted old man, who had managed to bring up -a large family on his salary, and to whom Frithiof had often applied for -advice on the subject of domestic economy. The two liked each other now -cordially, and worked well together, Foster having altogether lost the -slight prejudice he had at first felt against the foreigner. - -“We were up late last night,” said Frithiof, by way of explanation. But -the old man was shrewd and quick-sighted, and happening later on to be -in Mr. Boniface’s private room, he seized the opportunity to remark: - -“We shall have Mr. Falck knocking up again, sir, if I’m not mistaken: he -is looking very ill to-day.” - -“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Mr. Boniface. “You were quite right to -tell me, Foster. We will see what can be done.” - -And the foreman knew that there was no favoritism in this speech, for -Mr. Boniface considered the health of his employees as a matter of the -very highest importance, and being a Christian first and a tradesman -afterward, did not consider money-making to be the great object of life. -Many a time good old Foster himself had been sent down for a few days at -the seaside with his family, and it was perhaps a vivid remembrance of -the delights of West Codrington that made him add as he left the room: - -“He looks to me, sir, as if he needed bracing up.” - -Mr. Boniface was much of the same opinion when he noticed Frithiof later -on in the day. A thoroughly good salesman the Norwegian had always -been—clear-headed, courteous, and accurate; but now the look of effort -which he had borne for some time before his illness was clearly visible, -and Mr. Boniface seized the first chance he could get of speaking to him -alone. About five o’clock there came a lull in the tide of customers; -Darnell, the man at the opposite counter, had gone to tea, and Frithiof -had gone back to his desk to enter some songs in the order-list. - -“Frithiof,” said Mr. Boniface, coming over to him and dropping the -somewhat more formal style of address which he generally used toward him -during business hours, “you have got one of your bad headaches.” - -“Yes,” replied the Norwegian candidly, “but it is not a disabling one. I -shall get through all right.” - -“What plans have you made for your Whitsuntide holiday?” - -“I don’t think we had made any plan at all.” - -“Then I want you all to come away with us for a few days,” said the -shop-owner. “You look to me as if you wanted rest. Come to us for a -week; I will arrange for your absence.” - -“You are very good,” said Frithiof warmly. “But indeed I would rather -only take the general holiday of Saturday to Tuesday. I am not in the -least ill, and would rather not take extra days when there is no need.” - -“Independent as ever,” said Mr. Boniface, with a smile. “Well, it must -be as you like. We will see what the three days will do for you.” - -Where and how this holiday was to be spent only Mr. and Mrs. Boniface -knew, and Cecil and Roy were as much astonished as any one when, at two -o’clock on Saturday afternoon, a coach and four stopped at the gate of -Rowan Tree House. - -“What! are we to drive there?” asked Cecil. “Oh, father, how delightful! -Will it be very far?” - -“Yes, a long drive; so keep out plenty of wraps, in case the evening is -chilly. We can tuck away the children inside if they get tired. Now, are -we all ready? Then we will drive to the model lodgings.” - -So off they started, a very merry party, but still merrier when the -three Norwegians had joined them, the girls, as usual, dressed in black, -for economy’s sake, but wearing very dainty little white sailor hats, -which Sigrid had sat up on the previous night to trim. She enjoyed her -new hat amazingly; she enjoyed locking up the lodgings and handing the -key to the caretaker; she enjoyed the delicious prospect of three days’ -immunity from cooking, and cleaning, and anxious planning of food and -money; and she enjoyed Roy’s presence, with the frank, free happiness of -a girl who is as yet quite heart-whole. - -“I feel like the ‘linen-draper bold,’ in the ballad,” said Mr. Boniface, -with his hearty laugh. “But I have taken precautions, you see, against a -similar catastrophe. We have had more than the ‘twice ten tedious years’ -together, have we not, Loveday?” - -“Yes,” she said, with her sweet, expressive smile, “we are just -beginning the twenty-seventh, Robin, and have had many holidays, unlike -Mr. and Mrs. Gilpin.” - -They were still like lovers, this husband and wife of twenty-six years’ -standing; and it was with a sort of consciousness that they would be -happier if left to themselves, that Frithiof, who sat between Mrs. -Boniface and Cecil, turned toward the latter, and began to talk to her. - -Cecil was looking her very best that day. The sun lighted up her fair -hair, the fresh wind brought a glow of healthy color to her cheeks, her -honest gray eyes had lost the grave look which they usually wore, and -were bright and happy-looking; for she was not at all the sort of girl, -who, because she could not get her own wish, refused to enjoy life. She -took all that came to her brightly enough, and, with a presentiment that -such a treat as this drive with Frithiof would not often fall to her -lot, she gave herself up to present happiness, and put far from her all -anxieties and fears for the future. From the back seat, peals of -laughter from Lance, and Gwen, and Swanhild reached them. In front, by -the side of the driver, they could see Roy and Sigrid absorbed in their -own talk; and with such surroundings it would have been hard indeed if -these two, the Norwegian, with his sad story, and Cecil, with her life -overshadowed by his trouble, had not been able for a time to throw off -everything that weighed them down, and enjoy themselves like the rest. - -“This is a thousand times better than a cariole or a stolkjaerre,” said -Frithiof. “What a splendid pace we are going at, and how well you see -the country! It is the perfection of traveling.” - -“So I think,” said Cecil. “At any rate, on such a day as this. In rain, -or snow, or burning heat, it might be rather trying. And then, of -course, in the old days we should not have had it all snugly to -ourselves like this; which makes such a difference.” - -He thought over those last words for a minute, and reflected how among -“ourselves” Cecil included the little children of a criminal, and the -foreigners who had scarcely been known to them for two years. Her warm, -generous heart had for him a very genuine attraction. Possibly, if it -had not been for that chance meeting with Blanche, which had caused an -old wound to break out anew, some thought of love might have stirred in -his breast. As it was, he was merely grateful to her for chasing away -the gloom that for the last few days had hung about him like a fog. She -was to him a cheering ray of sunshine; a healthy breeze that dispersed -the mist; a friend—but nothing more. - -On they drove, free of houses at last, or passing only isolated farms, -little villages, and sleepy country towns. The trees were in all the -exquisite beauty of early June, and the Norwegians, accustomed to less -varied foliage, were enthusiastic in their admiration. They had never -known before what it was to drive along a road bordered by picturesque -hedges, with stately elms here and there, and with oaks and beeches, -sycamores and birches, poplars and chestnuts scattered in such lavish -profusion throughout the landscape. - -“If we can beat you in mountains, you can certainly beat us in trees!” -cried Sigrid, her blue eyes bright with happiness. - -She was enjoying it all as only those who have been toiling in a great -town can enjoy the sights and sounds of the country. The most humdrum -things had an attraction for her, and when they stopped by and by for -tea, at a little roadside inn, she almost wished their drive at an end, -such a longing came over her to run out into the fields and just gather -flowers to her heart’s content. - -At last, after a great deal of tea and bread and butter had been -consumed, they mounted the coach again, leaving a sort of reflection of -their happiness in the hearts of the people of the inn. - -“There’s merry-makers and merry-makers,” remarked the landlord, glancing -after them; “yon’s the right sort, and no mistake.” - -And now Mr. Boniface began to enjoy to the full his surprise. How he -laughed when they implored him to say where they were going! How -triumphant he was when the driver, who was as deaf as a post, utterly -declined to answer leading questions put to him by Roy! - -“I believe we are going to Helmstone, or some great watering-place, -where we shall have to be proper and wear gloves,” said Cecil. - -This was received with groans. - -“But to get a sight of the sea one would put up with glove-wearing,” -said Sigrid. “And we could, at any rate, walk out into the country, I -suppose, for flowers.” - -Mr. Boniface only smiled, however, and looked inscrutable. And finding -that they could not guess their destination in the least, they took to -singing rounds, which made the time pass by very quickly. At length -Frithiof started to his feet with an eager exclamation. - -“The sea!” he cried. - -And sure enough, there, in the distance, was the first glimpse of a long -blue line, which made the hearts of the Norwegians throb with eager -delight. - -“It seems like being at home again,” said Swanhild, while Frithiof -seemed to drink in new life as the fresh salt wind blew once more upon -him, bringing back to his mind the memory of many a perilous adventure -in his free, careless boyhood. - -“A big watering-place,” groaned Roy. “I told you so. Houses, churches, a -parade, and a pier; I can see them all.” - -“Where? where?” cried every one, while Mr. Boniface laughed quietly and -rubbed his hands. - -“Over there, to the left,” said Roy. - -“You prophet of evil!” cried Cecil merrily; “we are turning quite away -to the right.” - -And on they went between the green downs, till they came to a tiny -village, far removed from railways, and leaving even that behind them, -paused at length before a solitary farm-house, standing a little back -from the road, with downs on either side of it, and barely a quarter of -a mile from the sea. - -“How did you hear of this delightful place, father?” cried Cecil; “it is -just perfect.” - -“Well, I saw it when you and Roy were in Norway two summers ago,” said -Mr. Boniface. “Mother and I drove out here from Southborne, and took -such a fancy to this farm that, like Captain Cuttle, we made a note of -it, and kept it for a surprise party.” - -Mr. Horner, in his suburban villa, was at that very moment lamenting his -cousin’s absurd extravagance. - -“He was always wanting in common-sense, poor fellow,” observed Mrs. -Horner. “But to hire a coach-and-four just to take into the country his -own family and that criminal’s children, and those precious Norwegians, -who apparently think themselves on a level with the highest in the -land—that beats everything! I suppose he’ll be wanting to hire a palace -for them next bank holiday!” - -As a matter of fact, the farm-house accommodation was rather limited, -but no one cared about that. Though the rooms were small, they had a -most delicious smell of the country about them, and every one, moreover, -was in a humor to be as much out of doors as possible. - -The time seemed to all of them a little like that summer holiday at -Balholm in its freedom and brightness and good-fellowship. The -delightful rambles over the breezy downs, the visit to the lighthouse, -the friendly chats with the coast-guardsmen, the boating excursions, and -the quiet country Sunday—all remained in their memories for long after. - -To Roy those days were idyllic; and Sigrid, too, began to understand for -the first time that he was something more to her than Frithiof’s friend. -The two were much together, and on the Monday afternoon, when the rest -of the party had gone off again to the lighthouse for Lance’s special -benefit, they wandered away along the shore, nominally searching among -the rocks for anemones, but far too much absorbed in each other to prove -good collectors. - -It took a long time really to know Roy, for he was silent and reserved; -but by this time Sigrid had begun to realize how much there was in him -that was well worth knowing, and her bright, easy manner had always been -able to thaw his taciturn moods. He had, she perceived, his father’s -large-mindedness; he studied the various problems of the day in the same -spirit; to money he was comparatively indifferent; and he was wholly -without that spirit of calculation, that sordid ambition which is very -unjustly supposed to animate most of those engaged in retail trade. -Sigrid had liked him ever since their first meeting in Norway, but only -within the last two days had any thought of love occurred to her. Even -now that thought was scarcely formed; she was only conscious of being -unusually happy, and of feeling a sort of additional happiness, and a -funny sense of relief when the rest of the party climbed the hill to the -lighthouse, leaving her alone with Roy. Of what they talked she scarcely -knew, but as they wandered on over low rocks and pools and shingle, hand -in hand, because the way was slippery and treacherous, it seemed to her -that she was walking in some new paradise. The fresh air and beauty -after the smoke and the wilderness of streets; the sense of protection, -after the anxieties of being manager-in-chief to a very poor household; -above all, the joyous brightness after a sad past, made her heart dance -within her; and in her happiness she looked so lovely that all thought -of obstacles and difficulties left Roy’s mind. - -They sat down to rest in a little sheltered nook under the high chalk -cliffs, and it was there that he poured out to her the confession of his -love, being so completely carried away that for once words came readily -to his lips, so that Sigrid was almost frightened by his eagerness. How -different was this from Torvald Lundgren’s proposal! How utterly changed -was her whole life since that wintry day when she had walked back from -the Bergen cemetery! - -What was it that had made everything so bright to her since then? Was it -not the goodness of the man beside her—the man who had saved her -brother’s life—who had brought them together once more—who now loved her -and asked for her love? - -When at last he paused, waiting for her reply, she was for a minute or -two quite silent; still her face reassured Roy, and he was not without -hope, so that the waiting-time was not intolerable to him. - -“If it were only myself to be thought about,” she said at length, “I -might perhaps give you an answer more readily. But, you see, there are -other people to be considered.” - -The admission she had made sent a throb of delight to Roy’s heart. Once -sure of her love he dreaded no obstacles. - -“You are thinking of Frithiof,” he said. “And of course I would never -ask you to leave him; but there would be no need. If you could love -me—if you will be my wife—you would be much freer than you now are to -help him.” - -The thought of his wealth suddenly flashed into Sigrid’s mind, giving -her a momentary pang; yet, since she really loved him, it was impossible -that this should be a lasting barrier between them. She looked out over -the sea, and the thought of her old home, and of the debts, and the slow -struggle to pay them, came to her; yet all the time she knew that these -could not separate her from Roy. She loved him, and the world’s praise -or blame were just nothing to her. She could not care in the least about -the way in which such a marriage would be regarded by outsiders. She -loved him; and when once sure that her marriage would be right—that it -would not be selfish, or in any way bad in its effects on either -Frithiof or Swanhild—it was impossible that she should hesitate any -longer. - -But of this she was not yet quite sure. All had come upon her so -suddenly that she felt as if she must have time to think it out quietly -before making a definite promise. - -“Give me a fortnight,” she said, “and then I will let you have my -answer. It would not be fair to either of us if I spoke hastily when so -much is at stake.” - -Roy could not complain of this suggestion: it was much that he was able -at last to plead his own cause with Sigrid, and in her frank blue eyes -there lurked something which told him that he need fear no more. - -Meanwhile time sped on, and, unheeded by these two, the tide was coming -in. They were so absorbed in their own affairs that it was not until a -wave swept right into the little bay, leaving a foam-wreath almost at -their feet, that they realized their danger. With a quick exclamation -Roy started up. - -“What have I been thinking of?” he cried in dismay. “Why, we are cut -off!” - -Sigrid sprang forward and glanced toward Britling Gap. It was too true. -Return was absolutely impossible. - -“We could never swim such a distance,” she said. And turning, she -glanced toward the steep white cliff above. - -“And that too is utterly impossible,” said Roy. “Our only hope is in -some pleasure-boat passing. Stay, I have an idea.” - -Hastily opening his knife he began to scoop out footholds in the chalk. -He saw that their sole chance lay in making a standing-place out of -reach of the water, and he worked with all his might, first securing a -place for the feet, then, higher up, scooping holes for the hands to -cling to; he spoke little, his mind was too full of a torturing sense of -blame, a bitter indignation with himself for allowing his very love to -blind him to such a danger. - -As for Sigrid, she picked up a pointed stone and began to work too with -desperate energy. She was naturally brave, and as long as she could do -anything her heart scarcely beat faster than usual. It was the -waiting-time that tried her, the clinging to that uncompromising white -cliff, while below the waves surged to and fro with the noise that only -that morning she had thought musical, but which now seemed to her almost -intolerable. If it had not been that Roy’s arm was round her, holding -her closely, she could never have borne up so long; she would have -turned giddy and fallen back into the water. But his strength seemed to -her equal to anything, and her perfect confidence in him filled her with -a wonderful energy of endurance. - -In their terrible position all sense of time left them; they could not -tell whether it was for minutes or for hours that they had clung to -their frail refuge, when at length a shout from above reached their -ears. - -“Courage!” cried a voice. “A boat is coming to your help. Hold on!” - -Hope renewed their strength in a wonderful way; they were indeed less to -be pitied than those who had the fearful anxiety of rescuing them, or -watching the rescue. - -It was Frithiof who had first discovered them; the rest of the party, -after seeing over the lighthouse, had wandered along the cliffs talking -to an old sailor, and, Lance being seized with a desire to see over the -edge, Frithiof had set Cecil’s mind at rest by lying down with the -little fellow and holding him securely while he glanced down the sheer -descent to the sea. A little farther on, to the left, he suddenly -perceived, to his horror, the two clinging figures, and at once -recognized them. Dragging the child back, he sprang up and seized the -old sailor’s arm, interrupting a long-winded story to which Mr. Boniface -was listening. - -“There are two people down there, cut off by the tide,” he said. “What -is the quickest way to reach them?” - -“Good Lord!” cried the old man; “why, there’ll be nought quicker than a -boat at Britling Gap, or ropes brought from there and let down.” - -“Tell them help is coming,” said Frithiof “I will row round.” - -And without another word he set off running like the wind toward the -coast-guard station. On and on he rushed over the green downs, past the -little white chalk-heaps that marked the coast-guard’s nightly walk, -past the lighthouse and down the hill to the little sheltered cove. -Though a good runner, he was sadly out of training; his breath came now -in gasps, his throat felt as though it were on fire, and all the time a -terrible dread filled his heart. Supposing he were too late! - -At Britling Gap not a soul was in sight, and he dared not waste time in -seeking help. The boat was in its usual place on the beach. He shoved it -out to sea, sprang into it, paused only to fling off his coat, then with -desperate energy pulled toward the place where Roy and Sigrid awaited -their rescuer with fast-failing strength. - -And yet in all Frithiof’s anxiety there came to him a strange sense of -satisfaction, an excitement which banished from his mind all the -specters of the past, a consciousness of power that in itself was -invigorating. Danger seemed to be his native element, daring his -strongest characteristic, and while straining every nerve and making the -little boat bound through the water, he was more at rest than he had -been for months, just because everything personal had faded into entire -insignificance before the absorbing need of those whom he loved. - -How his pulses throbbed when at length he caught sight of Sigrid’s -figure! and with what skill he guided his boat toward the cliff, -shouting out encouragement and warning! The two were both so stiff and -exhausted that it was no easy task to get them down into the boat, but -he managed it somehow, and a glad cheer from above showed that the -watchers were following their every movement with eager sympathy. - -“Let us walk back quickly,” said Mr. Boniface, “that we may be ready to -meet them,” and with an intensity of relief they hurried back to -Britling Gap, arriving just in time to greet the three as they walked up -the beach. Sigrid, though rather pale and exhausted, seemed little the -worse for the adventure, and a glad color flooded her cheeks when Mr. -Boniface turned to Frithiof and grasping his hand, thanked him warmly -for what he had done. Cecil said scarcely anything; she could hardly -trust herself to speak, but her heart beat fast as, glancing at -Frithiof, she saw on his face the bright look which made him once more -like the Frithiof she had met long ago at Bergen. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIV. - - -Mr. Boniface insisted on keeping them all till the following day, when -once more they enjoyed the delights of coaching, getting back to London -in the cool of the evening, laden with wild roses, hawthorn, and field -flowers, which gladdened more than one of their neighbors’ rooms in the -model lodgings. - -It was not till Wednesday in Whitsun-week that Frithiof found himself in -his old place behind the counter, and it took several days before they -all got into working order again, for though the holiday had done them -good, yet it was not very easy to get back into the routine of business. -But by Monday everything was in clockwork order again, and even Mr. -Horner, though ready enough at all times to grumble, could find nothing -to make a fuss about. It happened that day that Mr. Horner was more in -the shop than usual, for Roy had unexpectedly been obliged to go to -Paris on business, and it chanced, much to his satisfaction, that, while -Mr. Boniface was dining, Sardoni the tenor called to speak about a song. -There was nothing that he enjoyed so much as interviewing any well-known -singer; he seemed to gain a sort of reflected glory in the process, and -Frithiof could hardly help smiling when at the close of the interview -they passed through the shop, so comical was the obsequious manner of -the little man toward the tall, jolly-looking singer, and so curious the -contrast between the excessive politeness of his tone to the visitor, -and his curt command, “Open the door, Falck.” - -Frithiof opened the door promptly, but the tenor, whose mischievous eyes -evidently took in everything that savored of fun, saw plainly enough -that the Norseman, with his dignity of manner and nobility of bearing, -deemed Mr. Horner as a man beneath contempt. - -“Oh, by the way, Mr. Horner,” he exclaimed suddenly, turning back just -as he had left the shop; “I quite forgot to ask if you could oblige me -with change for a five-pound note. I have tried to get it twice this -morning, but change seems to be short.” - -“With the greatest pleasure,” said Mr. Horner deferentially. - -And pushing past Frithiof, he himself deposited the note in the till and -counted out five sovereigns, which he handed with a bow to Sardoni. - -Then, with a friendly “good-day,” the singer went out, and Mr. Horner, -rubbing his hands with an air of great satisfaction, retired to Mr. -Boniface’s room. The afternoon passed on just as hundreds of afternoons -had passed before it, with the usual succession of customers, the usual -round of monotonous work; there was nothing to mark it in any way, and -no sense of coming evil made itself felt. In the most prosaic manner -possible, Frithiof went out for the few minutes’ stroll in the streets -which he called tea-time. He was in good spirits, and as he walked along -he thought of the days by the sea, and of the boating which he had so -much enjoyed, living it all over again in this hot, dusty London, where -June was far from delightful. Still, it was something to be out in the -open air, to get a few moments of leisure and to stretch one’s legs. He -walked along pretty briskly, managing to get some little enjoyment out -of his short respite, and this was well; for it was long before he could -enjoy anything again in that unconcerned, free-hearted way. Yet nothing -warned him of this; quite carelessly he pushed open the double -swing-doors and re-entered the shop, glancing with surprise but with no -special concern at the little group behind the counter. Mr. Horner was -finding fault about something, but that was a very ordinary occurrence. -A thin, grave-looking man stood listening attentively, and Mr. Boniface -listened too with an expression of great trouble on his face. Looking -up, he perceived Frithiof, and with an exclamation of relief came toward -him. - -“Here is Mr. Falck!” he said; “who no doubt will be able to explain -everything satisfactorily. A five-pound note has somehow disappeared -from your till this afternoon, Frithiof; do you know anything about it?” - -“It was certainly in the till when I last opened it,” said Frithiof; -“and that was only a few minutes before I went out.” - -“Very possibly,” said Mr. Horner. “The question is whether it was there -when you shut it again.” - -The tone even more than the words made Frithiof’s blood boil. - -“Sir,” he said furiously, “do you dare to insinuate that I—” - -But Mr. Boniface laid a hand on his arm and interrupted him. - -“Frithiof,” he said, “you know quite well that I should as soon suspect -my own son as you. But this note has disappeared in a very extraordinary -way, while only you and Darnell were in the shop, and we must do our -best to trace it out. I am sure you will help me in this disagreeable -business by going through the ordinary form quietly.” - -Then, turning to the private detective who had been hastily called in by -Mr. Horner, he suggested that they should come to his own room. Mr. -Horner shut the door with an air of satisfaction. From the first he had -detested the Norwegian, and now was delighted to feel that his dislike -was justified. Mr. Boniface, looking utterly miserable, sat down in his -arm-chair to await the result of the inquiry, and the two men who lay -under suspicion stood before the detective, who with his practiced eye -glanced now at one, now at the other, willing if possible to spare the -innocent man the indignity of being searched. - -Darnell was a rather handsome fellow, with a short dark beard and heavy -moustache: he looked a trifle paler than usual, but was quite quiet and -collected, perhaps a little upset at the unusual disturbance in the shop -where for so long he had worked, yet without the faintest sign of -personal uneasiness about him. Beside him stood the tall Norwegian, his -fair skin showing all too plainly the burning color that had rushed to -his face the instant he knew that he lay actually under suspicion of -thieving. Mr. Horner’s words still made him tingle from head to foot, -and he could gladly have taken the man by the throat and shaken the -breath out of him. For the suspicion, hard enough for any man to bear, -was doubly hard to him on account of his nationality. That a Norwegian -should be otherwise than strictly honorable was to Frithiof a monstrous -idea. He knew well that he and his countrymen in general had plenty of -faults, but scrupulous honesty was so ingrained in his Norse nature, -that to have the slightest doubt cast upon his honor was to him an -intolerable insult. The detective could not, of course, understand this. -He was a clever and a conscientious man, but his experience was, after -all, limited. He had not traveled in Norway, or studied the character of -its people; he did not know that you may leave all your luggage outside -an inn in the public highway without the least fear that in the night -any one will meddle with it: he did not know that if you give a Norse -child a coin equal to sixpence in return for a great bowl of milk, it -will refuse with real distress to keep it, because the milk was worth a -little less; he had not heard the story of the lost chest of plate, -which by good chance was washed up on the Norwegian coast, how the -experts examined the crest on the spoons, and after infinite labor and -pains succeeded in restoring it to its rightful owner in a far-away -southern island. It was, after all, quite natural that he should suspect -the man who had colored so deeply, who protested so indignantly against -the mere suspicion of guilt, who clearly shrank from the idea of being -searched. - -“I will examine you first,” said the detective; and Frithiof, seeing -that there was no help for it, submitted with haughty composure to the -indignity. For an instant even Mr. Horner was shaken in his opinion, -there was such an evident consciousness of innocence in the Norwegian’s -whole manner and bearing now that the ordeal had actually come. - -In solemn silence two pockets were turned inside out. The right-hand -waistcoat pocket was apparently empty, but the careful detective turned -that inside out too. Suddenly Mr. Boniface started forward with an -ejaculation of astonishment. - -“I told you so,” cried Mr. Horner vehemently. - -And Frithiof, roused to take notice, which before he had not -condescended to do, looked down and saw a sight that made his heart -stand still. - -Carefully pinned to the inside of the pocket was a clean, fresh, -five-pound note. He did not speak a word, but just stared at the thing -in blank amazement. There was a painful silence. Surely it could be -nothing but a bad dream! - -He looked at the unconcerned detective, and at Mr. Horner’s excited -face, and at Mr. Boniface’s expression of grief and perplexity. It was -no dream; it was a most horrible reality—a reality which he was utterly -incapable of explaining. With an instinct that there was yet one man -present who trusted him, in spite of appearances, he made a step or two -toward Mr. Boniface. - -“Sir,” he said, in great agitation, “I swear to you that I knew nothing -of this. It has astounded me as much as it has surprised you. How it -came there I can’t say, but certainly I didn’t put it there.” - -Mr. Boniface was silent, and glancing back Frithiof saw on the thin lips -of the detective a very expressive smile. The sight almost maddened him. -In the shock of the discovery he had turned very pale, now the violence -of his wrath made him flush to the roots of his hair. - -“If you didn’t put it there, who did?” said Mr. Horner indignantly. -“Don’t add to your sin, young man, by falsehood.” - -“I have never spoken a falsehood in my life; it is you who lie when you -say that I put the note there,” said Frithiof hotly. - -“My poor fellow,” said Mr. Boniface, “I am heartily sorry for you, but -you must own that appearances are against you.” - -“What! you too, sir!” cried Frithiof, his indignation giving place to -heartbroken wonder. - -The tone went to Mr. Boniface’s heart. - -“I think you did it quite unconsciously,” he said. “I am sure you never -could have taken it had you known what you were about. You did it in -absence of mind—in a fit of temporary aberration. It is, perhaps, a mere -result of your illness last summer, and no one would hold you -responsible for it.” - -A horrible wave of doubt passed over Frithiof. Could this indeed be the -explanation? But it was only for a moment. He could not really believe -it; he knew that there was no truth in this suggestion of brain -disturbance. - -“No one in absence of mind could deliberately have pinned the note in,” -he said. “Besides my head was perfectly clear, not even aching or -tired.” - -“Quite so; I am glad that so far you own the truth,” said Mr. Horner. -“Make a free confession at once and we will not press the prosecution. -You yielded to a sudden temptation, and, as we all know, have special -reasons for needing money. Come, confess!” - -“You are not bound to incriminate yourself,” said the detective, who, as -acting in a private capacity, was not bound to urge the prosecution. -“Still, what the gentleman suggests is by far the best course for you to -take. There’s not a jury in the land that would not give a verdict -against you.” - -“I shall certainly not tell a lie to save open disgrace,” said Frithiof. -“The jury may say what it likes. God knows I am innocent.” - -The tone in which he said the last words made Mr. Boniface look at him -more closely. Strangely enough it was in that moment of supreme -bitterness, when he fully realized the hopelessness of his position, -when one of his employers deemed him a madman and the other a thief, -then, when disgrace and ruin and utter misery stared him in the face, -that the faint glimpses of the Unseen, which, from time to time, had -dawned for him, broadened into full sunlight. For the first time in his -life he stood in close personal relationship with the Power in whom he -had always vaguely believed, the higher Presence became to him much more -real than men surrounding him with their pity and indignation and -contempt. - -But Mr. Horner was not the sort of man to read faces, much less to read -hearts; the very emphasis with which Frithiof had spoken made him more -angry. - -“Now I _know_ that you are lying!” he cried: “don’t add blasphemy to -your crime. You are the most irreligious fellow I ever came across—a man -who, to my certain knowledge, never attends any place of public worship, -and do you dare to call God to witness for you?” - -Nothing but the strong consciousness of this new Presence kept Frithiof -from making a sharp retort. But a great calmness had come over him, and -his tone might have convinced even Mr. Horner had he not been so full of -prejudice. “God knows I am innocent,” he repeated; “and only He can tell -how the note got here; I can’t.” - -“One word with you, if you please, Mr. Harris,” said Robert Boniface, -suddenly pushing back his chair and rising to his feet, as though he -could no longer tolerate the discussion. - -He led the way back to the shop, where, in low tones, he briefly gave -the detective his own opinion of the case. He was sure that Frithiof -firmly believed he was telling the truth, but, unable to doubt the -evidence of his own senses, he was obliged to take up the plausible -theory of temporary aberration. The detective shrugged his shoulders a -little, and said it might possibly be so, but the young man seemed to -him remarkably clear-headed. However, he accepted his fee and went off, -and Mr. Boniface returned sadly enough to his room. - -“You can go back to the shop, Darnell,” he said. - -The man bowed and withdrew, leaving Frithiof still standing -half-bewildered where the detective had left him, the cause of all his -misery lying on the writing-table before him, just as fresh and -crisp-looking as when it had issued from the Bank of England. - -“This has been a sad business, Frithiof,” said Mr. Boniface, leaning his -elbow on the mantel-piece, and looking with his clear, kindly eyes at -the young Norwegian. “But I am convinced that you had no idea what you -were doing, and I should not dream of prosecuting you, or discharging -you.” - -Poor Frithiof was far too much stunned to be able to feel any gratitude -for this. Mr. Horner, however, left him no time to reply. - -“I think you have taken leave of your senses, Boniface,” he said -vehemently. “Save yourself the annoyance of prosecuting, if you like; -but it is grossly unfair to the rest of your employees to keep a thief -in your house. Not only that, but it is altogether immoral; it is -showing special favor to vice; it is admitting a principle which, if -allowed, would ruin all business life. If there is one thing noticeable -in all successful concerns it is that uncompromising severity is shown -to even trifling errors—even to carelessness.” - -“My business has hitherto been successful,” said Mr. Boniface quietly, -“and I have never gone on that principle, and never will. Why are we to -have a law of mercy and rigidly to exclude it from every-day life? But -that is the way of the world. It manages, while calling itself -Christian, to shirk most of Christ’s commands.” - -“I tell you,” said Mr. Horner, who was now in a towering passion, “that -it is utterly against the very rules of religion. The fellow is not -repentant; he persists in sticking to a lie, and yet you weakly forgive -him.” - -“If,” said Mr. Boniface quietly, “you knew a little more of Frithiof -Falck you would know that it is quite impossible that he could -consciously have taken the money. When he took it he was not himself. If -he had wanted to hide it—to steal it—why did he actually return to the -shop with it in his possession? He might easily have disposed of it -while he was out.” - -“If that is your ground, then I object to having a man on my premises -who is afflicted with kleptomania. But it is not so. The fellow is as -long-headed and quick-witted as any one I know; he has managed to -hoodwink you, but from the first I saw through him, and knew him to be a -designing—” - -“Sir,” broke in Frithiof, turning to Mr. Boniface—his bewildered -consternation changing now to passionate earnestness—“this is more than -I can endure. For God’s sake call back the detective, examine further -into this mystery; there _must_ be some explanation!” - -“How can any man examine further?” said Mr. Boniface sadly. “The note is -missed, and is actually found upon you. The only possible explanation is -that you were not yourself when you took it.” - -“Then the least you can do is to dismiss him,” resumed Mr. Horner. But -Mr. Boniface interrupted him very sharply. - -“You will please remember, James, that you are in no way concerned with -the engagement or dismissal of those employed in this house. That is -entirely my affair, as is set forth in our deed of partnership.” - -“Which partnership will need renewing in another six months,” said Mr. -Horner, growing red with anger. “And I give you fair warning that, if -this dishonest fellow is kept on, I shall then withdraw my capital and -retire from the business.” - -With this Parthian shot he went out, banging the door behind him. - -Frithiof had borne in silence all the taunts and insults showered on -him; but when he found himself alone with the man to whom he owed so -much, he very nearly broke down altogether. “Sir,” he said, trying in -vain to govern his voice, “you have been very good to me; but it will be -best that I should go.” - -“I would not have you leave for the world,” said Mr. Boniface. “Remember -that your sisters are dependent on you. You must think first of them.” - -“No,” said Frithiof firmly; “I must first think of what I owe to you. It -would be intolerable to me to feel that I had brought any loss on you -through Mr. Horner’s anger. I must go.” - -“Nonsense,” said Mr. Boniface. “I cannot hear of such a thing. Why, how -do you think you would get another situation with this mystery still -hanging over you? I, who know you so well, am convinced of your perfect -freedom from blame. But strangers could not possibly be convinced of -it.” - -Frithiof was silent; he thought of Sigrid and Swanhild suffering through -his trouble, he remembered his terrible search for work when he first -came to London, and he realized that it was chiefly his own pride that -prompted him never to return to the shop. After all, what a prospect it -was! With one partner deeming him a thief and the other forced to say -that he must be subject to a form of insanity; with the men employed in -the shop all ready to deem him a dishonest foreigner! How was he to bear -such a terrible position? Yet bear it he must; nay, he must be thankful -for the chance of being allowed to bear it. - -“If you are indeed willing that I should stay,” he said, at length, -“then I will stay. But your theory—the theory that makes you willing -still to trust me—is mistaken. I know that there is not a minute in this -day when my head has not been perfectly clear.” - -“My dear fellow, you must allow me to keep what theory I please. There -is no other explanation than this, and you would be wisest if you -accepted it yourself.” - -“That is impossible,” said Frithiof sadly. - -“It is equally impossible that I can doubt the evidence of my own -senses. The note was there, and you can’t possibly explain its presence. -How is it possible that Darnell could have crossed over to your till, -taken out the note and pinned it in your pocket? Besides, what motive -could he have for doing such a thing?” - -“I don’t know,” said Frithiof; “yet I shall swear to my dying day that I -never did it myself.” - -“Well, there is no use in arguing the point,” said Robert Boniface -wearily. “It is enough for me that I can account to myself for what must -otherwise be an extraordinary mystery. You had better go back to your -work now, and do not worry over the affair. Remember that I do not hold -you responsible for what has happened.” - -After this of course nothing more could be said. Frithiof left the room -feeling years older than when he had entered it, and with a heavy heart -took that first miserable plunge into the outer world—the world where he -must now expect to meet with suspicious looks and cold dislike. - - - - - CHAPTER XXV. - - -As he walked down the sort of avenue of pianos and harmoniums in the -inner shop, there came to his mind, why, he could not have told, words -spoken to him long before by that customer who had left on his mind so -lasting an impression, “Courage! the worst will pass.” Though he could -not exactly believe the words, yet he clung to them with a sort of -desperation. Also he happened to notice the clock, and practically -adopted Sydney Smith’s wise maxim, “Take short views.” There were -exactly two hours and a quarter before closing time; he could at any -rate endure as long as that, and of the future he would not think. There -were no customers in the shop, but he could hear voices in eager -discussion, and he knew quite well what was the subject of their talk. -Of course the instant he came into sight a dead silence ensued, and the -little group, consisting of Foster, Darnell, one of the tuners, and the -boy who made himself generally useful, dispersed at once, while in the -ominous quiet Frithiof went to his usual place. The first few minutes -were terrible; he sat down at his desk, took up his pen, and opened the -order-book, making a feint of being actually employed, but conscious -only of the dreadful silence and of the eyes that glanced curiously at -him; again a burning flush passed over his face, just from the horror -and shame of even being suspected of dishonesty. It was a relief to him -when a customer entered, a man entirely ignorant of all that had passed, -and only bent on securing the best seats to be had for Mr. Boniface’s -concert on the following day. Carlo Donati, the celebrated baritone, was -to sing, and as he had only appeared once before that season, except in -opera, there was a great demand for tickets, which kept them pretty busy -until at length the longed-for closing came; the other men lingered a -little to discuss afresh the great event of the day, but Frithiof, who -had been watching the hands of the clock with longing eyes, felt as if -he could not have borne the atmosphere of the shop for another minute, -and snatching up his hat made for the door. None of them said good-night -to him; they were not intentionally unkind, but they were awkward, and -they felt that the strange affair of the afternoon had made a great gulf -between them and the culprit. However, Frithiof was past caring much for -trifles, for after the first moment of intense relief, as he felt the -cool evening air blowing on him, the sense of another trouble to be met -had overpowered all else. He had got somehow to tell Sigrid of his -disgrace, to bring the cloud which shadowed him into the peaceful home -that had become so dear to him. Very slowly he walked through the noisy -streets, very reluctantly crossed the great courtyard, and mounted -flight after flight of stairs. At the threshold he hesitated, wondering -whether it would be possible to shield them from the knowledge. He could -hear Sigrid singing in the kitchen as she prepared the supper, and -something told him that it would be impossible to conceal his trouble -from her. With a sigh he opened the door into the sitting-room; it -looked very bright and cheerful; Swanhild stood at the open window -watering the flowers in the window-box, red and white geraniums and -southernwood, grown from cuttings given by Cecil. She gave him her usual -merry greeting. - -“Come and look at my garden, Frithiof,” she said. “Doesn’t it look -lovely?” - -“Why, you are late,” said Sigrid, coming in with the cocoa, her face a -little flushed with the fire, which was trying on that summer-day. Then, -glancing at him, “How tired you look! Come, sit down and eat. I have got -a German sausage that even Herr Sivertsen would not grumble at. The heat -has tired you, and you will feel better after you have had something.” - -He ate obediently, though the food almost choked him; Swanhild, fancying -that he had one of his bad headaches, grew quiet, and afterwards was not -surprised to find that he did not as usual get out his writing -materials, but asked Sigrid to go out with him for a turn. - -“You are too tired to try the translating?” she asked. - -“Yes, I’ll try it later,” he said; “but let us have half an hour’s walk -together now.” - -She consented at once and went to put on her hat, well knowing that -Frithiof never shirked his work without good reason; then leaving strict -orders with Swanhild not to sit up after nine, they left her absorbed in -English history, and went down into the cool, clear twilight. Some -children were playing quietly in the courtyard; Sigrid stopped for a -minute to speak to one of them. - -“Is your father better this evening?” she asked. - -“Yes, miss, and he’s a-goin’ back to work to-morrow,” replied the child, -lifting a beaming face up to the friendly Norwegian lady, who had become -a general favorite among her neighbors. - -“That is one of the little Hallifields,” explained Sigrid, as they -passed on. “The father, you know, is a tram-car conductor, and the work -is just killing him by inches; some day you really must have a talk with -him and just hear what terrible hours he has to keep. It makes me sick -to think of it. How I wish you were in Parliament, Frithiof, and could -do something to put down all the grievances that we are forever coming -across!” - -“There was once a time when at home we used to dream that I might even -be a king’s minister,” said Frithiof. - -Something in his voice made her sorry for her last speech; she knew that -one of his fits of depression had seized him. - -“So we did, and perhaps after all you may be. It was always, you know, -through something very disagreeable that in the old stories the highest -wish was attained. Remember the ‘Wild Swans.’ And even ‘Cinderella’ has -that thought running through it. We are taught the same thing from our -nursery days upward. And, you know, though there are some drawbacks, I -think living like this, right among the people, is a splendid training. -One can understand their troubles so much better.” - -“I should have thought you had troubles enough of your own,” he said -moodily, “without bothering yourself with other people’s.” - -“But since our own troubles I have somehow cared more about them; I -don’t feel afraid as I used to do of sick people, and people who have -lost those belonging to them. I want always to get nearer to them.” - -“Sigrid,” he said desperately, “can you bear a fresh trouble for -yourself? I have bad news for you to-night.” - -Her heart seemed to stop beating. - -“Roy?” she asked breathlessly, her mind instinctively turning first to -fears for his safety. - -At any other time Frithiof would have guessed the truth through that -tremulous, unguarded question, which had escaped her involuntarily. But -he was too miserable to notice it then. - -“Oh, no, Roy is still at Paris. They heard to-day that he could not be -back in time for the concert. It is I who have brought this trouble on -you. Though how it came about God only knows. Listen, and I’ll tell you -exactly how everything happened.” - -By this time they had reached one of the parks, and they sat down on a -bench under the shade of a great elm-tree. Frithiof could not bear to -look at Sigrid, could not endure to watch the effect of his words; he -fixed his eyes on the smutty sheep that were feeding on the grass -opposite him. Then very quietly and minutely he told exactly what had -passed that afternoon. - -“I am glad,” she exclaimed when he paused, “that Mr. Boniface was so -kind. And yet, how can he think that of you?” - -“You do not think it, then?” he asked, looking her full in the face. - -“What! think that you took it in absence of mind? Think that it would be -possible for you deliberately to take it out of the till and pin it in -your own pocket! Why, of course not! In actual delirium, I suppose, a -man might do anything, but you are as strong and well as any one else. -Of course, you had nothing whatever to do with it, either consciously or -unconsciously.” - -“Yet the thing was somehow there, and the logical inference is, that I -must have put it there,” he said, scanning her face with keen attention. - -“I don’t care a fig for logical inference,” she cried, with a little -vehement motion of her foot. “All I know is that you had nothing -whatever to do with it. If I had to die for maintaining that, I would -say it with my last breath.” - -He caught her hand in his and held it fast. - -“If you still believe in me, the worst is over,” he said. “With the rest -of the world, of course, my character is gone, but there is no help for -that.” - -“But there must be help,” said Sigrid. “Some one else must be guilty. -The other man in the shop must certainly have put it there.” - -“For what purpose?” said Frithiof sadly. “Besides, how could he have -done it without my knowledge?” - -“I don’t know,” said Sigrid, beginning to perceive the difficulties of -the case. “What sort of a man is he?” - -“I used to dislike him at first, and he naturally disliked me because I -was a foreigner. But latterly we have got on well enough. He is a very -decent sort of fellow, and I don’t for a moment believe that he would -steal.” - -“One of you must have done it,” said Sigrid. “And as I certainly never -could believe that you did it, I am forced to think the other man -guilty.” - -Frithiof was silent. If he did not agree with her, was he not bound to -accept Mr. Boniface’s theory? The horrible mystery of the affair was -almost more than he could endure; his past had been miserable enough, -but he had never known anything equal to the misery of being innocent -yet absolutely unable to prove this innocence. Sigrid, glancing at him -anxiously, could see even in the dim twilight what a heavy look of -trouble clouded his face, and resolutely turning from the puzzling -question of how the mystery could be explained, she set herself to make -as light of the whole affair as was possible. - -“Look, Frithiof,” she said; “why should we waste time and strength in -worrying over this? After all, what difference does it make to us in -ourselves? Business hours must, of course, be disagreeable enough to -you, but at home you must forget the disagreeables; at home you are my -hero, unjustly accused and bearing the penalty of another’s crime.” - -He smiled a little, touched by her eagerness of tone, and cheered, in -spite of himself, by her perfect faith in him. Yet all through the night -he tossed to and fro in sleepless misery, trying to find some possible -explanation of the afternoon’s mystery, racking his brain to think of -all that he had done or said since that unlucky hour when Sardoni had -asked for change. - -The next morning, as a natural consequence, he began the day with a -dull, miserable headache; at breakfast he hardly spoke, and he set off -for business looking so ill that Sigrid wondered whether he could -possibly get through his work. It was certainly strange, she could not -help thinking, that fate seemed so utterly against him, and that when at -last his life was beginning to look brighter, he should again be the -victim of another’s fault. And then, with a sort of comfort, there -flashed into her mind an idea which almost reconciled her to his lot. -What if these obstacles so hard to be surmounted, these difficulties -that hemmed him in so persistently, were after all only the equivalent -to the physical dangers and difficulties of the life of the old Vikings? -Did it not, in truth, need greater courage and endurance for the -nineteenth-century Frithiof to curb all his natural desires and -instincts and toil at uncongenial work in order to pay off his father’s -debts, than for the Frithiof of olden times to face all the dangers of -the sea, and of foes spiritual and temporal who beset him when he went -to win back the lost tribute money? It was, after all, a keen pleasure -to the old Frithiof to fight with winds and waves; but it was a hard -struggle to the modern Frithiof to stand behind a counter day after day. -And then again, was it not less bitter for the Frithiof of the Saga to -be suspected of sacrilege, than for Frithiof Falck to be suspected of -the most petty and contemptible act of dishonesty? - -She was right. Anything, however painful and difficult, would have been -gladly encountered by poor Frithiof if it could have spared him that -miserable return to his old place in Mr. Boniface’s shop. And that day’s -prosaic work needed greater moral courage than any previous day of his -life. - -About half-past nine there arrived a telegram which did not mend -matters. Mr. Boniface was seriously unwell, would not be in town that -day, and could not be at St. James’s Hall that evening for the concert. -Mr. Horner would take his place. Frithiof’s heart sank at this news; and -when presently the fussy, bumptious, little man entered the shop the -climax of his misery was reached. Mr. Horner read the telegram with a -disturbed air. - -“Dear! dear! seriously ill, I’m afraid, or he would at least make an -effort to come to-night. But after all the annoyance of yesterday I am -not surprised—no, not at all. Such a thing has never happened in his -business before, ay, Mr. Foster?” - -“Oh, no, sir,” said the foreman in a low voice, sorry in his heart for -the young Norwegian, who could not avoid hearing every word. - -“It was quite enough to make him ill. Such a disgraceful affair in a -house of this class. For his own sake he does well to hush it up, though -I intend to see that all proper precautions are taken; upon that, at any -rate, I insist. If I had my own way there should have been none of this -misplaced leniency. Here, William!” and he beckoned to the boy, who was -irreverently flicking the bust of Mozart with a duster. - -“Yes, sir,” said William, who, being out of the trouble himself, -secretly rather enjoyed the commotion it had caused. - -“Go at once to Smith, the ironmonger, and order him to send some one -round to fix a spring bell on a till. Do you understand?” - -“Quite, sir,” replied William, unable to resist glancing across the -counter. - -Frithiof went on arranging some music that had just arrived, but he -flushed deeply, and Mr. Horner, glad to have found a vulnerable point of -attack, did not scruple to make the most of his opportunity. Never, -surely, did ironmonger do his work so slowly! Never, surely, did an -employer give so much of his valuable time to directing exactly what was -to be done, and superintending an affair about which he knew nothing. -But the fixing of that detestable bell gave Mr. Horner a capitol excuse -for being in the shop at Frithiof’s elbow, and every word and look -conveyed such insulting suspicion of the Norwegian that honest old -Foster began to feel angry. - -“Why should I mind this vulgar brute?” thought Frithiof, as he forced -himself to go on with his work with the air of quiet determination which -Mr. Horner detested. But all the same he did care, and it was the very -vulgarity of the attack that made him inwardly wince. His headache grew -worse and worse, while in maddening monotony came the sounds of piano -tuning from the inner shop, hammering and bell-ringing at the till close -by, and covert insults and innuendoes from the grating voice of James -Horner. How much an employer can do for those in his shop, how close and -cordial the relation may be, he had learnt from his intercourse with Mr. -Boniface. He now learnt the opposite truth, that no position affords -such constant opportunities for petty tyranny if the head of the firm -happens to be mean or prejudiced. The miserable hours dragged on -somehow, and at last, late in the afternoon, Foster came up to him with -a message. - -“Mr. Horner wishes to speak to you,” he said; “I will take your place -here.” Then, lowering his voice cautiously, “It’s my opinion, Mr. Falck, -that he is trying to goad you into resigning, or into an impertinent -answer which would be sufficient to cause your dismissal.” - -“Thank you for the warning,” said Frithiof gratefully, and a little -encouraged by the mere fact that the foreman cared enough for him to -speak in such a way, he went to the private room, determined to be on -his guard and not to let pride or anger get the better of his dignity. - -Mr. Horner replied to his knock, but did not glance round as he entered -the room. - -“You wished to speak to me, sir?” asked Frithiof. - -“Yes, when I have finished this letter. You can wait,” said Mr. Horner -ungraciously. - -He waited quietly, thinking to himself how different was the manner both -of Mr. Boniface and of his son, who were always as courteous to their -employees as to their customers, and would have thought themselves as -little justified in using such a tone to one of the men as of employing -the slave-whip. - -Mr. Horner, flattering himself that he was producing an impression and -emphasizing the difference between their respective positions, finished -his letter, signed his name with a flourish characteristic of his -opinion of himself, then swung round his chair and glanced at Frithiof. - -“Mr. Boniface left no instructions as to whether you were to attend as -usual at St. James’s Hall to-night,” he began. “But since no one else is -used to the work I suppose there is no help for it.” - -He paused, apparently expecting some rejoinder, but Frithiof merely -stood there politely attentive. - -“Since you know the work, and are used to it, you had better attend as -usual, for I should be vexed if any hitch should occur in the -arrangements. But understand, pray, that I strongly disapprove of your -remaining in our employ at all, and that it is only out of necessity -that I submit to it, for I consider you unfit to mix with respectable -people.” - -Whatever the Norwegian felt, he managed to preserve a perfectly unmoved -aspect. Mr. Horner, who wanted to stir him into indignant expostulation, -was sorely disappointed that his remarks fell so flat. - -“I see you intend to brazen it out,” he said crushingly. “But you don’t -deceive me. You may leave the room, and take good care that all the -arrangements to-night are properly carried out.” - -“Yes, sir,” said Frithiof, with the quietness of one who knows that he -remains master of the situation. But afterward, when he was once more in -the shop, the insults returned to his mind with full force, and lay -rankling there for many a day to come. Owing to the concert, his release -came a little sooner than usual, and it was not much after seven when -Sigrid heard him at the door. His face frightened her; it looked so worn -and harassed. - -“You will have time for some supper?” she asked pleadingly. - -“No,” he said, passing by her quickly, “I am not hungry, and must change -my clothes and be off again.” - -“He might fancy some coffee,” said Sigrid to herself. “Quick, Swanhild, -run and get it ready while I boil the water. There is nothing like -strong _café noir_ when one is tired out.” - -Perhaps it did him some good; and the glimpse of his home certainly -cheered him; yet, nevertheless, he was almost ready that night to give -up everything in despair. - -Physical exhaustion had dulled the glow of inner comfort that had come -to him on the previous day. In his miserable depression all his old -doubts assailed him once more. Was there any rule of justice after all? -Was there anything in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, but cruel -lust of power, and an absolute indifference to suffering? His old hatred -against those who succeeded once more filled his heart, and though at -one time he had felt curious to see Donati, and had heard all that Cecil -had to say in favor of the Italian’s courage and unselfishness, yet now, -in his bitterness of soul, he began to hate the man merely because of -his popularity. - -“I detest these conceited, set-up idols of the public,” he thought to -himself. “When all men speak well of a fellow it is time to suspect him. -His goodness and all the rest of it is probably all calculation—a sort -of advertisement!” - -The architects of most English music-halls have scant regard for the -comfort of the _artistes_. It often used to strike Frithiof as a strange -thing that in the Albert Hall, singers, whose health and strength were -of priceless value, had to wait about in draughty, sloping passages, on -uncomfortable chairs, while at St. James’s Hall they had only the option -of marching up and down a cold, stone staircase to the cloak-room -between every song, or of sitting in the dingy little den opening on to -the platform steps—a den which resembles a family pew in a meetinghouse. -Here, sitting face to face on hard benches, were ranged to-night many of -the first singers of the day. There was Sardoni, the good-natured -English tenor and composer. There was Mme. Sardoni-Borelli, with her -noble and striking face and manner; besides a host of other celebrities, -all the more dear to the audience because for years and years they had -been giving their very best to the nation. But Carlo Donati had not yet -arrived, and Mr. Horner kept glancing anxiously through the glass doors -on to the staircase in hopes of catching sight of the great baritone. -Frithiof lived through it all like a man in a dream, watched a young -English tenor who was to make his first appearance that night, saw him -walking to and fro in a tremendous state of nervousness, heard the poor -fellow sing badly enough, and watched him plunge down the steps again -amid the very faint applause of the audience. Next came the turn of Mme. -Sardoni-Borelli. Her husband handed her the song she was to sing, she -gave some directions to the accompanist as to the key in which she -wanted it played, and mounted the platform with a composed dignity that -contrasted curiously with the manner of the _débutant_ who had preceded -her. Mr. Horner turned to Frithiof at that moment. - -“Go and see whether Signor Donati has come,” he said. “His song is next -on the programme.” - -“Ah,” said Sardoni, with a smile, “he is such a tremendous fellow for -home, he never comes a moment too soon, and at the theater often runs it -even closer than this. He is the quickest dresser I ever knew, though, -and is never behind time.” - -Frithiof made his way to the cloak room, and, as he walked through the -narrow room leading to it, he could distinctly hear the words of some -one within. The voice seemed familiar to him. - -“Badly received? Well, you only failed because of nervousness. In your -second song you will be more used to things, and you will see, it will -go much better.” - -“But _you_ surely can never have had the same difficulty to struggle -with?” said the young tenor, who, with a very downcast face, stood -talking to the newly arrived baritone. - -“Never!” exclaimed the other, with a laugh which rang through the room, -“Ask Sardoni! He’ll tell you of my first appearance.” - -Then, as Frithiof gave his message, the speaker turned round and -revealed to the Norwegian that face which had fascinated him so -strangely just before his illness—a face not only beautiful in outline -and coloring, but full of an undefined charm, which made all theories as -to the conceit and objectionableness of successful men fall to the -ground. - -“Thank you,” he said, bowing in reply; “I will come down at once.” Then, -turning again to the _débutant_ with a smile, “You see, through failing -to get that _encore_ that you ought to have deserved, you have nearly -made me behind time. Never mind, you will get a very hearty one in the -second part to make up. Come down with me, wont you. It is far better -fun in that family pew below than up here. Clinton Cleve is here, isn’t -he? Have you been introduced to him?” - -The young man replied in the negative; Frithiof perceived that the idea -had cheered him up wonderfully, and knew that a word from the veteran -tenor might be of great use to a beginner. - -“I’ll introduce you,” said Donati as they went down the stairs. Frithiof -held open the swing-doors for them and watched with no small curiosity -the greeting between Donati and the other _artistes_. His manner was so -very simple that it was hard to realize that he was indeed the man about -whom all Europe was raving; but nevertheless he had somehow brought a -sort of new atmosphere into the place, and even Mr. Horner seemed -conscious of this, for he was less fidgety and fussy than usual, and -even seemed willing to keep in the background. There was a hearty -greeting to Madame Sardoni as she came down the steps and a brisk little -conversation in the interval; then, having wrapped her shawl about her -again, talking brightly all the while, Donati picked up his music and -stepped on to the platform. It was only then that Frithiof realized how -great was his popularity, for he was greeted rapturously, and certainly -he well merited the thunder of applause which broke forth again at the -close of a song which had been given with unrivaled delicacy of -expression and with all the charm of his wonderful voice. For the time -Frithiof forgot everything; he was carried far away from all -consciousness of disgrace and wretchedness, far away from all -recollection of Mr. Horner’s presence; he could only look in -astonishment and admiration at the singer, who stood laughing and -talking with Sardoni, periodically mounting the platform to bow his -acknowledgments to the audience, who still kept up their storm of -applause. When at length he had convinced them that he did not intend to -sing again, he began to talk to Clinton Cleve, and soon had won for the -young _débutant_ a few minutes’ kindly talk with the good-natured old -singer who, though he had been the idol of the British public for many -years, had not forgotten the severe ordeal of a first appearance. The -young tenor brightened visibly, and when he sang again acquitted himself -so well that he won the _encore_ which Donati had prophesied. - -All went smoothly until, early in the second part, the Italian baritone -was to sing a song with violin obligato. By some unlucky accident -Frithiof forgot to place the music-stand for the violinist; and -perceiving this as soon as they were on the platform, Donati himself -brought it forward and put it in position. It was but a trifling -occurrence, but quite sufficient to rouse Mr. Horner. When the singer -returned he apologized to him profusely, and turned upon Frithiof with a -rebuke, the tone of which made Donati’s eyes flash. - -“Pray do not make so much of it,” he said, with a touch of dignity in -his manner. Then returning again from one of his journeys to the -platform, and noticing the expression of Frithiof’s face, he paused to -speak to him for a moment before returning to give the _encore_ that was -emphatically demanded. It was not so much what he said as his manner of -saying it that caused Frithiof’s face to brighten, and brought a frown -to James Horner’s brow. - -“It is merely my duty to enlighten Signor Donati,” said the little man -to himself—“merely my duty!” - - - - - CHAPTER XXVI. - - -Carlo Donati had considerable insight into character; not only had he -been born with this gift, but his wandering life had brought him into -contact with all sorts and conditions of men, and had been an excellent -education to one who had always known how to observe. He was, moreover, -of so sympathetic a temperament that he could generally tell in a moment -when trouble was in the air, and the ridiculously trivial affair about -the music-stand, which could not have dwelt in his mind for a minute on -its own account, opened his eyes to the relations existing between Mr. -Horner and the Norwegian. That something was wrong with the latter he -had perceived when Frithiof had first spoken to him in the cloak-room, -and now, having inadvertently been the cause of bringing upon him a -severe rebuke, he was determined to make what amends lay in his power. - -He cut short Mr. Horner’s flattering remarks and reiterated apologies as -to the slight _contretemps_. - -“It is of no consequence at all,” he said. “By the by, what is the -nationality of that young fellow? I like his face.” - -“He is Norwegian,” replied Mr. Horner, glancing at Frithiof, who was -arranging the platform for Madame Gauthier, the pianiste. - -“You think, no doubt, that I spoke too severely to him just now, but you -do not realize what a worthless fellow he is. My partner retains him -merely out of charity, but he has been proved to be unprincipled and -dishonest.” - -The last few words reached Frithiof distinctly as he came down the -steps; he turned ghastly pale, his very lips grew white; it was as -though some one had stabbed him as he re-entered the little room, and -the eyes that turned straight to the eyes of the Italian were full of a -dumb anguish which Donati never forgot. Indignant with the utter want of -kindness and tact which Mr. Horner had shown, he turned abruptly away -without making the slightest comment on the words; but often through the -evening, when Frithiof was engrossed in other things, Donati quietly -watched him, and the more he saw of him the less was he able to believe -in the truth of the accusation. Meantime he was waiting for his -opportunity, but he was unable to get a word with the Norwegian until -the end of the concert, when he met him on the stairs. - -“Are you at liberty?” he asked. “Is your work here over?” - -Frithiof replied in the affirmative, and offered to look for the great -baritone’s carriage, imagining that this must be the reason he had -addressed him. - -“Oh, as, to the carriage!” said Donati easily, “it will be waiting at -the corner of Sackville Street. But I wanted a few minutes’ talk with -you, and first of all to apologize for having been the unwilling hearer -of that accusation, which I am quite sure is false.” - -Frithiof’s clouded face instantly cleared; all the old brightness -returned for a moment to his frank blue eyes, and forgetful of the fact -that he was not in Norway, and that Donati was the idolized public -singer, he grasped the hand of the Italian with that fervent, -spontaneous gratitude which is so much more eloquent than words. - -“Thank you,” he said simply. - -“Well, now, is it possible for an outsider to help in unraveling the -mystery?” said Donati. “For when a man like you is accused in this way I -take it for granted there must be a mystery.” - -“No one can possibly explain it,” said Frithiof, the troubled look -returning to his face. “I can’t tell in the least how the thing -happened, but appearances were altogether against me. It is the most -extraordinary affair, but God knows I had no hand in it.” - -“I want to hear all about it,” said Donati with that eagerness of manner -and warmth of interest which made him so devotedly loved by thousands. -“I am leaving England to-morrow; can’t you come back and have supper -with me now, and let me hear this just as it all happened?” - -Even if he had wished to refuse, Frithiof could hardly have done so; -and, as it was, he was so miserable that he would have caught at much -less hearty sympathy. They walked along the crowded pavement toward -Sackville Street, and had almost reached the carriage when a -conversation immediately behind them became distinctly audible. - -“They make such a fuss over this Donati,” said the speaker. “But I -happen to know that he’s a most disreputable character. I was hearing -all about him the other day from some one who used to know him -intimately. They say, you know, that—” - -Here the conversation died away in the distance, and what that curse of -modern society—the almighty “They”—said as to Donati’s private affairs -remained unknown to him. - -Frithiof glanced at the singer’s face. Apparently he had not yet reached -those sublime heights where insults cease from troubling and slanders -fail to sting. He was still young, and naturally had the disadvantages -as well as the immense gains of a sensitive artistic temperament. A -gleam of fierce anger swept over his face, and was quickly succeeded by -a pained look that made Frithiof’s heart hot within him; in silence the -Italian opened the door of the carriage, signed to Frithiof to get in, -and they drove off together. - -“No matter,” said Donati in a minute, speaking reflectively, and as if -he were alone. “I do not sing for a gossiping public. I sing for -Christ.” - -“But that they should dare to say such a thing as that!” exclaimed -Frithiof, growing more and more indignant as his companion’s serenity -returned. - -“For one’s self,” said Donati, “it is—well—not much; but for the sake of -those belonging to one it certainly does carry a sting. But every one -who serves the public in a public capacity is in the same boat. -Statesmen, artists, authors, actors, all must endure this plague of -tongues. And, after all, it merely affects one’s reputation, not one’s -character. It doesn’t make one immoral to be considered immoral, and it -doesn’t make you a thief to be considered dishonest. But now I want to -hear about this accusation of Mr. Horner’s. When did it all happen?” - -In the dim light Frithiof told his story; it was a relief to tell it to -sympathetic ears; Donati’s faith in him seemed to fill him with new -life, and though the strange events of that miserable Monday did not -grow any clearer in the telling, yet somehow a rope began to dawn in his -heart. - -“It certainly is most unaccountable,” said Donati, as the carriage drew -up before a pretty little villa in Avenue Road. He paused to speak to -the coachman. “We shall want the carriage in time to go to the 9.40 -train at Charing Cross, Wilson; good-night.” - -“But if you start so early,” said Frithiof, “I had better not hinder you -any longer.” - -“You do not hinder me; I am very much interested. You must certainly -come in to supper, and afterward I want to hear more about this. How -unlucky it was that the five-pound note should have been changed that -day by Sardoni!” - -At this moment the door was opened; Frithiof caught a vision of a slim -figure in a pale rose-colored tea gown, and the loveliest face he had -ever seen was raised to kiss Donati as he entered. - -“How nice and early you are!” exclaimed a fresh, merry voice. Then, -catching sight of a stranger, and blushing a little, she added, “I -fancied it was Jack and Domenica you were bringing back with you.” - -“Let me introduce you to my wife, Herr Falck,” said Donati, and Frithiof -instantly understood that here lay the explanation of the Italian’s -faultless English, since, despite her foreign name, it was impossible -for a moment to mistake Francesca Donati’s nationality. - -The house was prettily, but very simply, furnished, and about it there -was that indefinable air of home that Frithiof had so often noticed in -Rowan Tree House. - -“You must forgive a very unceremonious supper, Herr Falck,” said -Francesca, herself making ready the extra place that was needed at -table. “But the fact is, I have sent all the servants to bed, for I knew -they would have to be up early to-morrow, and they feel the traveling a -good deal.” - -“Much more than you and I do,” said Donati. “We have grown quite -hardened to it.” - -“Then this is not your regular home?” asked Frithiof. - -“Yes, it is our English home. We generally have five months here and -five at Naples, with the rest of the time either at Paris, or Berlin, or -Vienna. After all, a wandering life makes very little difference when -you can carry about your home with you.” - -“And baby is the best traveler in the world,” said Donati, “and in every -way the most model baby. I think,” glancing at his wife, “that she is as -true a gipsy as Gigi himself.” - -“Poor Gigi! he can’t bear being left behind! By the by, had you time to -take him back to school before the concert, or did he go alone?” - -“I had just time to take him,” said Donati, waiting upon Frithiof as he -talked. “He was rather doleful, poor old man; but cheered up when I told -him that he was to spend the summer holidays at Merlebank, and to come -to Naples at Christmas. It is a nephew of mine of whom we speak,” he -explained to Frithiof; “and, of course, his education has to be thought -of, and cannot always fit in with my engagements. You go in very much -for education in Norway, I understand?” - -Frithiof found himself talking quite naturally and composedly about -Norwegian customs and his former life, and it was not until afterward -that it struck him as a strange thing that on the very day after his -disgrace, when, but for Mr. Boniface’s kindness he might actually have -been in prison, he should be quietly, and even for the time happily, -talking of the old days. Nor was it until afterward that he realized how -much his interview with the great baritone would have been coveted by -many in a very different position; for Donati would not go into London -society though it was longing to lionize him. His wife did not care for -it, and he himself said that with his art, his home, and his own -intimate friends, no time was left for the wearing gayeties of the -season. The world grumbled, but he remained resolute, for though always -ready to help any one who was in trouble, and without the least touch of -exclusiveness about him, he could not endure the emptiness and -wastefulness of the fashionable world. Moreover, while applause that was -genuinely called forth by his singing never failed to give him great -pleasure, the flatteries of celebrity-hunters were intolerable to him, -so that he lost nothing and gained much by the quiet life which he -elected to lead. It was said of the great actor Phelps that “His theater -and his home were alike sacred to him as the Temple of God.” And the -same might well have been said of Donati, while something of the calm of -the Temple seemed to lurk about the quiet little villa, where refinement -and comfort reigned supreme, but where no luxuries were admitted. -Francesca had truly said that the wandering life made very little -difference to them, for wherever they went they made for themselves that -ideal home which has been beautifully described as - - “A world of strife shut out, - A world of love shut in.” - -They did not linger long over the supper-table, for Frithiof was -suffering too much to eat, and Donati, like most of his countrymen, had -a very small appetite. Francesca with a kindly good-night to the -Norwegian went upstairs to her baby, and the two men drew their chairs -up to the open French window at the back of the room looking on to the -little garden to which the moonlight gave a certain mysterious charm. - -“I have thought over it,” said Donati, almost abruptly, and as if the -matter might naturally engross his thoughts as much as those of his -companion. “But I can’t find the very slightest clue. It is certainly a -mystery.” - -“And must always remain so,” said Frithiof despairingly. - -“I do not think that at all. Some day all will probably be explained. -And be sure to let me hear when it is, for I shall be anxious to know.” - -A momentary gleam of hope crossed Frithiof’s face, but the gloom quickly -returned. - -“It will never be explained,” he said. “I was born under an unlucky -star; at the very moment when all seems well something has always -interfered to spoil my life; and with my father it was exactly the -same—it was an undeserved disgrace that actually killed him.” - -And then, to his own astonishment, he found himself telling Donati, bit -by bit, the whole of his own story. The Italian said very little, but he -listened intently, and in truth possessed exactly the right -characteristics for a confidant—rare sympathy, tact, and absolute -faithfulness. To speak out freely to such a man was the best thing in -the world for Frithiof, and Donati, who had himself had to battle with a -sea of troubles, understood him as a man who had suffered less could not -possibly have done. - -“It is to this injustice,” said Frithiof, as he ended his tale, “to this -unrighteous success of the mercenary and scheming, and failure of the -honorable, that Christianity tells one to be resigned. It is that which -sets me against religion—which makes it all seem false and -illogical—actually immoral.” - -Probably Donati would not even have alluded to religion had not his -companion himself introduced the subject. It was not his way to say much -on such topics, but when he did speak his words came with most wonderful -directness and force. It was not so much that he said anything -noteworthy or novel, but that his manner had about it such an intensity -of conviction, such rare unconsciousness, and such absolute freedom from -all conventionality. “Pardon me, if I venture to show you a flaw in your -argument,” he said quietly. “You say we are told to be resigned. Very -well. But what is resignation? It was well defined once by a noble -Russian writer who said that it is ‘placing God between ourselves and -our trouble.’ There is nothing illogical in that. It is the merest -common-sense. When finite things worry and perplex you, turn to the -Infinite from which they may be safely and peacefully viewed.” - -Frithiof thought of those words which had involuntarily escaped his -companion after the remark of the passer-by in Piccadilly—“No matter!—I -do not sing for a gossiping world.” He began to understand Donati -better—he longed with an intensity of longing to be able to look at life -with such eyes as his. - -“These things are so real to you,” he said quickly. “But to me they are -only a hope—or, if for an hour or two real, they fade away again. It may -be all very well for you in your successful happy life, but it is -impossible for me with everything against me.” - -“Impossible!” exclaimed Donati, his eyes flashing, and with something in -his tone which conveyed volumes to the Norwegian. - -“If not impossible at any rate very difficult,” he replied. - -“Yes, yes,” said Donati, his eyes full of sympathy. “It is that to all -of us. Don’t think I make light of your difficulties. It is hard to seek -God in uncongenial surroundings, in a life harassed and misunderstood, -and in apparent failure. But—don’t let the hardness daunt you—just go -on.” - -The words were commonplace enough, but they were full of a wonderful -power because there lurked beneath them the assurance— - - “I have been through where ye must go; - I have seen past the agony.” - -“Do you know,” said Frithiof, smiling, “that is almost what you said to -me the first time I saw you. You have forgotten it, but a year ago you -said a few words to me which kept me from making an end of myself in a -fit of despair. Do you remember coming to the shop about a song of -Knight’s?” - -“Why yes,” said Donati. “Was that really you? It all comes back to me -now—I remember you found the song for me though I had only the merest -scrap of it, without the composer’s name.” - -“It was just before my illness,” said Frithiof. “I never forgot you, and -recognized you the moment I saw you to-night. Somehow you saved my life -then just by giving me a hope.” - -Perhaps no greater contrast could have been found than these two men -who, by what seemed a mere chance, had been thrown together so -strangely. But Donati almost always attracted to himself men of an -opposite type; as a rule it was not the religious public that understood -him or appreciated him best, it was the men of the world, and those with -whom he came in contact in his professional life. To them his character -appealed in a wonderful way, and many who would have been ashamed to -show any enthusiasm as a rule, made an exception in favor of this man, -who had somehow fascinated them and compelled them into a belief in -goodness little in accord with the cynical creed they professed. - -To Frithiof in his wretchedness, in his despairing rebellion against a -fate which seemed relentlessly to pursue him, the Italian’s faith came -with all the force of a new revelation. He saw that the success, for -which but a few hours ago he had cordially hated the great singer, came -from no caprice of fortune, but from the way in which Donati had used -his gifts; nor had the Italian all at once leapt into fame, he had gone -through a cruelly hard apprenticeship, and had suffered so much that not -even the severe test of extreme popularity, wealth, and personal -happiness could narrow his sympathies, for all his life he would carry -with him the marks of a past conflict—a conflict which had won for him -the name of the “Knight-errant.” - -The same single-hearted, generous nature which had fitted him for that -past work, fitted him now to be Frithiof’s friend. For men like Donati -are knights-errant all their life long, they do not need a picturesque -cause, or seek a paying subject, but just travel through the world, -succoring those with whom they come in contact. The troubles of the -Norwegian in his prosaic shop-life were as much to Donati as the -troubles of any other man would have been; position and occupation were, -to him, very insignificant details; he did not expend the whole of his -sympathies on the sorrows of East London, and shut his heart against the -griefs of the rich man at the West End; nor was he so engrossed with his -poor Neapolitans that he could not enter into the difficulties of a -London shopman. He saw that Frithiof was one of that great multitude -who, through the harshness and injustice of the world, find it almost -impossible to retain their faith in God, and, through the perfidy of one -woman, are robbed of the best safeguard that can be had in life. His -heart went out to the man, and the very contrast of his present life -with its intense happiness quickened his sympathies. But what he said -Frithiof never repeated to any one, he could not have done it even had -he cared to try. When at length he rose to go Donati had, as it were, -saved him from moral death, had drawn him out of the slough of despond, -and started him with renewed hope on his way. - -“Wait just one moment,” he said, as they stood by the door; “I will give -you one of my cards and write on it the Italian address. There! _Villa -Valentino, Napoli._ Don’t forget to write and tell me when this affair -is all cleared up.” - -Frithiof grasped his hand, and, again thanking him, passed out into the -quiet, moonlit street. - - - - - CHAPTER XXVII. - - -The events of Monday had cast a shadow over Rowan-Tree House. Cecil no -longer sang as she went to and fro, Mr. Boniface was paying the penalty -of a stormy interview late on Monday evening with his partner, and was -not well enough to leave his room, and Mrs. Boniface looked grave and -sad, for she foresaw the difficulties in which Frithiof’s disgrace would -involve others. - -“I wish Roy had been at home,” she said to her daughter as, on the -Wednesday afternoon, they sat together in the verandah. - -Cecil looked up for a moment from the little frock which she was making -for Gwen. - -“If he had been at home, I can’t help thinking that this never would -have happened,” she said. “And I have a sort of hope that he will find -out some explanation of it all.” - -“My dear, what explanation can there be but the one that satisfies your -father?” said Mrs. Boniface. “Frithiof must have taken it in a fit of -momentary aberration. But the whole affair shows that he is not so -strong yet as we fancied, and I fear is a sign that all his life he will -feel the effects of his illness. It is that which makes me so sorry for -them all.” - -“I do not believe that he took it,” said Cecil. “Nothing will ever make -me believe that.” - -She stitched away fast at the little frock, in a sudden panic, lest the -tears which burned in her eyes should attract her mother’s notice. Great -regret and sympathy she might allow herself to show, for Frithiof was a -friend and a favorite of every one in the house; but of the grief that -filled her heart she must allow no trace to be seen, for it would make -her mother miserable to guess at the extent of her unhappiness. - -“Did you see him last night at the concert?” asked Mrs. Boniface. - -“Yes,” said Cecil, choking back her tears; “just when he arranged the -platform. He was looking very ill and worn.” - -“That is what I am so afraid of. He will go worrying over this affair, -and it is the very worst thing in the world for him. I wish your father -were better, and I would go and have a talk with Sigrid; but I hardly -like to leave the house. How would it be, dearie, if you went up and saw -them?” - -“I should like to go,” said Cecil quickly. “But it is no use being there -before seven, for Madame Lechertier has her classes so much later in -this hot weather.” - -“Well, go up at seven, then, and have a good talk with her; make her -understand that we none of us think a bit the worse of him for it, and -that we are vexed with Cousin James for having been so disagreeable and -harsh. You might, if you like, go to meet Roy; he comes back at -half-past eight, and he will bring you home again.” - -Cecil cheered up a good deal at this idea; she took Lance round the -garden with her, that he might help her to gather flowers for Sigrid, -and even smiled a little when of his own accord the little fellow -brought her a beautiful passion-flower which he had gathered from the -house wall. - -“This one’s for my dear Herr Frithiof!” he exclaimed, panting a little -with the exertions he had made to reach it. “It’s all for his own self, -and I picked it for him, ’cause it’s his very favorite.” - -“You know, Cecil,” said her mother, as she returned to the seat under -the verandah and began to arrange the flowers in a basket, “I have -another theory as to this affair. It happened exactly a week after that -day at the seaside when we all had such a terrible fright about Roy and -Sigrid. Frithiof had a long run in the sun, which you remember was very -hot that day; then he had all the excitement of rowing out and rescuing -them, and though at the time it seemed no strain on him at all, yet I -think it is quite possible that the shock may have brought back a slight -touch of the old trouble.” - -“And yet it seemed to do him good at the time,” said Cecil. “He looked -so bright and fresh when he came back. Besides, to a man accustomed as -he once was to a very active life, the rescue was, after all, no such -great exertion.” - -Mrs. Boniface sighed. - -“It would grieve me to think that it was really caused by that, but if -it is so, there is all the more reason that they should clearly -understand that the affair makes no difference at all in our opinion of -him. It is just possible that it may be his meeting with Lady Romiaux -which is the cause. Sigrid told me they had accidentally come across her -again, and that it had tried him very much.” - -Cecil turned away to gather some ferns from the rockery; she could not -bear to discuss that last suggestion. Later on in the afternoon it was -with a very heavy heart that she reached the model lodgings and knocked -at the door that had now become so familiar to her. - -Swanhild flew to greet her with her usual warmth. It was easy to see -that the child knew nothing of the trouble hanging over the house. “What -lovely flowers! How good of you!” she cried. - -But Sigrid could not speak: she only kissed her, then turned to Swanhild -and the flowers once more. - -“They are beautiful,” she said. “Don’t you think we might spare some for -Mrs. Hallifield? Run and take her some, dear.” - -When the child ran off she drew Cecil into their bedroom. The two girls -sat down together on the bed, but Sigrid, usually the one to do most of -the talking, was silent and dejected. Cecil saw at once that she must -take the initiative. - -“I have been longing to come and see you,” she said. “But yesterday was -so filled up. Father and mother are so sorry for all this trouble, and -are very much vexed that Mr. Horner has behaved badly about it.” - -“They are very kind,” said Sigrid wearily. “Of course most employers -would have prosecuted Frithiof, or, at any rate, discharged him.” - -“But, Sigrid, what can be the explanation of it? Oh, surely we can -manage to find out somehow! Who can have put the note in his pocket?” - -“What!” cried Sigrid. “Do not you, too, hold Mr. Boniface’s opinion, and -think that he himself did it unintentionally?” - -“I!” cried Cecil passionately. “Never! never! I am quite sure he had -nothing whatever to do with it.” - -Sigrid flung her arms round her. - -“Oh, how I love you for saying that!” she exclaimed. - -It was the first real comfort that had come to her since their trouble, -and, although before Frithiof she was brave and cheerful, in his absence -she became terribly anxious and depressed. But with the comfort there -came a fresh care, for something at that moment revealed to her Cecil’s -secret. Perhaps it was the burning cheek, that was pressed to hers, or -perhaps a sort of thrill in her companion’s voice as she spoke those -vehement words, and declared her perfect faith in Frithiof. - -The thought filled her with hot indignation against Blanche. “Has she -not only spoilt Frithiof’s life, but Cecil’s too?” she said to herself. -And in despair she looked on into the future, and back into the sad -past. “If it had not been for Blanche he might have loved her—I think he -would have loved her And oh! how happy she would have made him! how -different his whole life would have been! But now, with disgrace, and -debt, and broken health, all that is impossible for him. Blanche has -robbed him, too, of the very power of loving; she has cheated him out of -his heart. Her hateful flirting has ruined the happiness of two people, -probably of many more, for Frithiof was not the only man whom she -deceived. Oh! why does God give women the power to bring such misery -into the world?” - -She was recalled from her angry thoughts by Cecil’s voice; it was sweet -and gentle again now, and no longer vehement. - -“Do you know, Sigrid,” she said, “I have great hopes in Roy. He will be -home to-night, and he will come to it all like an outsider, and I think, -perhaps, he will throw some light on the mystery. I shall meet him at -Charing Cross, and as we drive home, will tell him just what happened.” - -“Is it to-night he comes home?” said Sigrid, with a depth of relief in -her tone. “Oh, how glad I am! But there is Swanhild back again. You wont -say anything before her, for we have not mentioned it to her; there -seemed no reason why she should be made unhappy, and Frithiof likes to -feel that one person is unharmed by his trouble.” - -“Yes, one can understand that,” said Cecil. “And Swanhild is such a -child, one would like to shelter her from all unhappiness. Are you sure -that you don’t mind my staying. Would you not rather be alone to-night?” - -“Oh, no, no,” said Sigrid. “Do stay to supper. It will show Frithiof -that you do not think any the worse of him for this—it will please him -so much.” - -They went back to the sitting-room and began to prepare the evening -meal; and when, presently, Frithiof returned from his work, the first -thing he caught sight of on entering the room was Cecil’s sweet, -open-looking face. She was standing by the table arranging flowers, but -came forward quickly to greet him. Her color was a little deeper than -usual, her hand-clasp a little closer, but otherwise she behaved exactly -as if nothing unusual had happened. - -“I have most unceremoniously asked myself to supper,” she said, “for I -have to meet Roy at half-past eight.” - -“It is very good of you to come,” said Frithiof gratefully. - -His interview with Carlo Donati had done much for him, and had helped -him through a very trying day at the shop, but though he had made a good -start and had begun his new life bravely, and borne many disagreeables -patiently, yet he was now miserably tired and depressed, just in the -mood which craves most for human sympathy. - -“Lance sent you this,” she said, handing him the passion-flower and -making him smile by repeating the child’s words. - -He seemed touched and pleased; and the conversation at supper-time -turned a good deal on the children. He asked anxiously after Mr. -Boniface, and then they discussed the concert of the previous night, and -he spoke a little of Donati’s kindness to him. Then, while Sigrid and -Swanhild were busy in the kitchen, she told him what she knew of -Donati’s previous life, and how it was that he had gained this -extraordinary power of sympathy and insight. - -“I never met any one like him,” said Frithiof. “He is a hero and a -saint, if ever there was one, yet without one touch of the asceticism -which annoys one in most good people. That the idol of the operatic -stage should be such a man as that seems to me wonderful.” - -“You mean because the life is a trying one?” - -“Yes; because such very great popularity might be supposed to make a man -conceited, and such an out-of-the-way voice might make him selfish and -heedless of others, and to be so much run after might make him consider -himself above ordinary mortals, instead of being ready, as he evidently -is, to be the friend of any one who is in need.” - -“I am so glad you like him, and that you saw so much of him,” said -Cecil. “I wonder if you would just see me into a cab now, for I ought to -be going.” - -He was pleased that she had asked him to do this; and when she had said -good-by to Sigrid and Swanhild, and was once more alone with him, -walking through the big court-yard, he could not resist alluding to it. - -“It is good of you,” he said, “to treat me as though I were under no -cloud. You have cheered me wonderfully.” - -“Oh,” she said, “it is not good of me—you must not think that I believe -you under a cloud at all. Nothing would ever make me believe that you -had anything whatever to do with that five-pound note. It is a mystery -that will some day be cleared up.” - -“That is what Signor Donati said. He, too, believed in me in spite of -appearances being against me. And Sigrid says the same. With three -people on my side I can wait more patiently.” - -Cecil had spoken very quietly, and quite without the passionate -vehemence which had betrayed her secret to Sigrid, for now she was on -her guard; but her tone conveyed to Frithiof just the trust and -friendliness which she wished it to convey; and he went home again with -a fresh stock of hope and courage in his heart. - -Meanwhile Cecil paced gravely up and down the arrival platform at -Charing Cross. She, too, had been cheered by their interview, but, -nevertheless, the baffling mystery haunted her continually, and in vain -she racked her mind for any solution of the affair. Perhaps the anxiety -had already left its traces on her face, for Roy at once noticed a -change in her. - -“Why, Cecil, what has come over you? You are not looking well,” he said, -as they got into a hansom and set off on their long drive. - -“Father has not been well,” she said, in explanation. “And I think we -have all been rather upset by something that happened on Monday -afternoon in the shop.” - -Then she told him exactly what had passed, and waited hopefully for his -comments on the story. He knitted his brows in perplexity. - -“I wish I had been at home,” he said. “If only James Horner had not gone -ferreting into it all this would never have happened. Frithiof would -have discovered his mistake, and all would have been well.” - -“But you don’t imagine that Frithiof put the note in his pocket?” said -Cecil, her heart sinking down in deep disappointment. - -“Why, who else could have put it there? Of course he must have done it -in absence of mind. Probably the excitement and strain of that unlucky -afternoon at Britling Gap affected his brain in some way.” - -“I cannot think that,” she said, in a low voice. “And, even if it were -so, that is the last sort of thing he would do.” - -“But that is just the way when people’s brains are affected, they do the -most unnatural things; it is a known fact that young innocent girls will -often in delirium use the most horrible language such as in real life -they cannot possibly have heard. Your honest man is quite likely under -the circumstances to become a thief. Is not this the view that my father -takes?” - -“Yes,” said Cecil. “But somehow—I thought—I hoped—that you would have -trusted him.” - -“It doesn’t in the least affect my opinion of his character. He was -simply not himself when he did it. But one can’t doubt such evidence as -that. The thing was missed from the till and found pinned into his -pocket; how can any reasonable being doubt that he himself put it -there?” - -“It may be unreasonable to refuse to believe it—I cannot help that,” -said Cecil. - -“But how can it possibly be explained on any other supposition?” he -urged, a little impatiently. - -“I don’t know,” said Cecil; “at present it is a mystery. But I am as -sure that he did not put it there as that I did not put it there.” - -“Women believe what they wish to believe, and utterly disregard logic,” -said Roy. - -“It is not only women who believe in him. Carlo Donati has gone most -carefully into every detail, and he believes in him.” - -“Then I wish he would give me his recipe,” said Roy, with a sigh. “I am -but a matter-of-fact, prosaic man of business, and cannot make myself -believe that black is white, however much I wish it. Have you seen Miss -Falck? Is she very much troubled about it?” - -“Yes, she is so afraid that he will worry himself ill; but, of course, -she too believes in him. I think she suspects the other man in the shop, -Darnell—but I don’t see how he can have anything to do with it, I must -own.” - -There was a silence. Cecil looked sadly at the passers-by, lovers -strolling along happily in the cool of the evening, workers just set -free from the long day’s toil, children reveling in the fresh sweet air. -How very brief was the happiness and rest as compared to the hard, -wearing drudgery of most of those lives! Love perhaps brightened a few -minutes of each day, but in the outside world there was no love, no -justice, nothing but a hard, grinding competition, while Sorrow and Sin, -Sickness and Death hovered round, ever ready to pounce upon their -victims. It was unlike her to look so entirely on the dark side of -things, but Frithiof’s persistent ill-luck had depressed her, and she -was disappointed by Roy’s words. Perhaps it was unreasonable of her to -expect him to share her view of the affair, but somehow she had expected -it, and now there stole into her heart a dreary sense that everything -was against the man she loved. In her sheltered happy home, where a -bitter word was never heard, where the family love glowed so brightly -that all the outside world was seen through its cheering rays, sad -thoughts of the strength of evil seldom came, there was ever present so -strong a witness for the infinitely greater power of love. But driving -now along these rather melancholy roads, weighed down by Frithiof’s -trouble; a sort of hopelessness seized her, the thought of the miles and -miles of houses all round, each one representing several troubled, -struggling lives, made her miserable. Personal trouble helps us -afterward to face the sorrows of humanity, and shows us how we may all -in our infinitesimal way help to brighten other lives—take something -from the world’s great load of pain and evil. But at first there must be -times of deadly depression, and in these it is perhaps impossible not to -yield a little for the moment to the despairing thought that evil is -rampant and all-powerful. Poverty, and sin, and temptation are so easily -visible everywhere, and to be ever conscious of the great unseen world -encompassing us, and of Him who makes both seen and unseen to work -together for good, is not easy. - -Cecil Boniface, like every one else in this world, had, in spite of her -ideal home, in spite of all the comforts that love and money could give -her, to “dree her weird.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXVIII. - - -If Roy had seemed unsympathetic as they drove home it was not because he -did not feel keenly. He was indeed afraid to show how keenly he felt, -and he would have given almost anything to have been able honestly to -say that he, too, believed in some unexplained mystery which should -entirely free his friend from reproach. But he could not honestly -believe in such a thing—it would have been as easy to him to believe in -the existence of fairies and hobgoblins. Since no such thing as magic -existed, and since Darnell had never been an assistant of Maskelyne and -Cooke, he could not believe that he had anything to do with the -five-pound note. Assuredly no one but Frithiof could have taken it out -of the till and carefully pinned it to the lining of his waistcoat -pocket. The more he thought over the details of the story, the more -irrational seemed his sister’s blind faith. And yet his longing to share -in her views chafed and irritated him as he realized the impossibility. - -His mind was far too much engrossed to notice Cecil much, and that, -perhaps, was a good thing, for just then in her great dejection any -ordinarily acute observer could not have failed to read her story. But -Roy, full of passionate love for Sigrid, and of hot indignation with -James Horner for having been the instrument of bringing about all this -trouble, was little likely to observe other people. - -Why had he ever gone to Paris? he wondered angrily, when his father or -James Horner could have seen to the business there quite as well. He had -gone partly because he liked the change, and partly because he was -thankful for anything that would fill up the wretched time while he -waited for Sigrid’s definite reply to his proposal. But now he blamed -himself for his restlessness, and was made miserable by the perception -that had he chosen differently all would have now been well. - -He slept little that night, and went up to business the next morning in -anything but a pleasant frame of mind, for he could hardly resist his -longing to go straight to Sigrid, and see how things were with her. When -he entered the shop Darnell was in his usual place at the left-hand -counter, but Frithiof was arranging some songs on a stand in the center, -and Roy was at once struck by a change that had come over him; he could -not define it, but he felt that it was not in this way that he had -expected to find the Norwegian after a trouble which must have been so -specially galling to his pride. “How are you?” he said, grasping his -hand; but it was impossible before others to say what was really in his -heart, and it was not till an hour or two later that they had any -opportunity of really speaking together. Then it chanced that Frithiof -came into his room with a message. - -“There is a Mr. Carruthers waiting to speak to you,” he said, handing -him a card; “he has two manuscript songs which he wishes to submit to -you.” - -“Tell him I am engaged,” said Roy. “And that as for songs, we have -enough to last us for the next two years.” - -“They are rather good; he has shown them to me. You might just glance -through them,” suggested Frithiof. - -“I shall write a book some day on the sorrows of a music-publisher!” -said Roy. “How many thousands of composers do you think there can be in -this overcrowded country? No, I’ll not see the man; I’m in too bad a -temper; but you can just bring in the songs, and I will look at them and -talk to you at the same time.” - -Frithiof returned in a minute, carrying the neat manuscripts which meant -so much to the composer and so little, alas! to the publisher. Roy -glanced through the first. - -“The usual style of thing,” he said. “Moon, man, and maid, rill and -hill, quarrel, kisses—all based on ‘So the Story Goes.’ I don’t think -this is worth sending to the reader. What’s the other? Words by -Swinburne: ‘If Love were what the Rose is.’ Yes, you are right; this one -is original; I rather like that refrain. We will send it to Martino and -see what he thinks of it. Tell Mr. Carruthers that he shall hear about -it in a month or two. And take him back this moonlight affair. Don’t go -yet; he can wait on tenter-hooks a little longer. Of course they have -told me at home about all this fuss on Monday, and I want you to promise -me one thing.” - -“What is that?” said Frithiof. - -“That you wont worry about this miserable five-pound note. That, if you -ever think of it again, you will remember that my father and I both -regard the accident as if it had never happened.” - -“Then you too take his view of the affair?” said Frithiof. - -“Yes, it seems to me the only reasonable one; but don’t let us talk of a -thing that is blotted out and done away. It makes no difference whatever -to me, and you must promise that you wont let it come between us.” - -“You are very good,” said Frithiof sadly; and, remembering the -hopelessness of arguing with one who took this view of his trouble, he -said no more, but went back to the poor composer, whose face lengthened -when he saw that his hands were not empty, but brightened into radiant -hope as Frithiof explained that one song would really have the rare -privilege of being actually looked at. Being behind the scenes, he -happened to know that the vast majority of songs sent to the firm -remained for a few weeks in the house, and were then wrapped up again -and returned without even being glanced at. His intervention had, at any -rate, saved Mr. Carruthers from that hard fate. - -“And yet, poor fellow,” he reflected, “even if he does get his song -published it is a hundred to one that it will fall flat and never do him -any good at all; where one succeeds a thousand fail; that seems the law -of the world, and I am one of the thousand. I wonder what is the use of -it all!” - -Some lines that Donati had quoted to him returned to his mind: - - “Glorious it is to wear the crown - Of a deserved and pure success; - He that knows how to fail has won - A crown whose luster is not less.” - -His reflections were interrupted by the entrance of two customers, -evidently a very recently married couple, who had come to choose a -piano. Once again he had to summon Roy, who stood patiently discoursing -on the various merits of different makers until at last the purchase had -been made. Then, unable any longer to resist the feverish impatience -which had been consuming him for so long, he snatched up his hat, left -word with Frithiof that he should be absent for an hour, and getting -into a hansom drove straight to the model lodgings. - -He felt a curious sense of incongruity as he walked across the -court-yard; this great business-like place was, as Sigrid had once said, -very much like a hive. An air of industry and orderliness pervaded it, -and Roy, in his eager impatience, felt as if he had no right there at -all. This feeling cast a sort of chill over his happiness as he knocked -at the familiar door. A voice within bade him enter, and, emerging from -behind the Japanese screen, he found Sigrid hard at work ironing. She -wore a large brown holland apron and bib over her black dress, her -sleeves were turned back, revealing her round, white arms up to the -elbow, and the table was strewn with collars and cuffs. - -“I thought it was Mrs. Hallifield come to scrub the kitchen,” she -exclaimed, “or I should not have cried ‘Come in!’ so unceremoniously. -Cecil told us you were expected last night.” - -“Will you forgive me for coming at this hour?” he began eagerly. “I knew -it was the only time I was sure to find you at home, and I couldn’t rest -till I had seen you.” - -“It was very good of you to come,” she said, coloring a little; “you -wont mind if I just finish my work while we talk?” - -The ironing might, in truth, have waited very well; but somehow it -relieved her embarrassment to sprinkle and arrange and iron the “fine -things” which, from motives of economy, she washed herself. - -“I have seen Frithiof,” he said, rather nervously. “He is looking better -than I had expected after such an annoyance.” - -“You have spoken to him about it?” - -“Only for a minute or two. After all, what is there to say but that the -whole affair must be forgotten, and never again mentioned by a soul. I -want so to make you understand that it is to us nothing at all, that it -is ridiculous to suppose that it can affect our thoughts of him. It was -the sort of thing that might happen to any one after such an illness.” - -Sigrid looked up at him. There was the same depth of disappointment in -her expression as there had been in Cecil’s. - -“You take that view of it,” she said slowly. “Somehow I had hoped you -would have been able to find the true explanation.” - -“If there were any other you surely know that I would seek for it with -all my might,” said Roy. “But I do not see how any other explanation can -possibly exist.” - -She sighed. - -“You are disappointed,” he said. “You thought I should have taken the -view that Carlo Donati takes. I only wish I could. But, you see, my -nature is more prosaic. I can’t make myself believe a thing when all the -evidences are against it.” - -“I am not blaming you,” said Sigrid. “It is quite natural, and of course -most employers would have taken a far harder view of the matter, and -turned Frithiof off at a moment’s notice. You and Mr. Boniface have been -very kind.” - -“Don’t speak like that,” he exclaimed. “How can you speak of kindness as -between us? You know that Frithiof is like a brother to me.” - -“No,” she said; “you are mistaken. I know that you are fond of him; but, -if he were like a brother to you, then you would understand him; you -would trust him through everything as I do.” - -Perhaps she was unreasonable. But then she was very unhappy and very -much agitated; and women are not always reasonable, or men either, for -that matter. - -“Sigrid,” he said passionately, “you are not going to let this come -between us? You know that I love you with all my heart, you know that I -would do anything in the world for you, but even for love of you I -cannot make myself believe that black is white.” - -“I am not reproaching you because you do not think as we think,” she -said quickly. “But in one way this must come between us.” - -“Hush!” he said imploringly; “wait a little longer. I will not to-day -ask you for your answer; I will wait as long as you please; but don’t -speak now while your mind is full of this trouble.” - -“If I do not speak now, when do you think I shall be more at leisure?” -she asked coldly. “Oh! it seems a light thing to you, and you are kind, -and pass it over, and hush it up, but you don’t realize how bitter it is -to a Norwegian to have such a shadow cast on his honesty. Do you think -that even if you forget it we can forget? Do you think that the other -men in the shop hold your view? Do you think that Mr. Horner agrees with -you?” - -“Perhaps not. What do I care for them?” said Roy. - -“No; that is just it. To you it is a matter of indifference, but to -Frithiof it is just a daily torture. And you would have me think of -happiness while he is miserable! You would have me go and leave him when -at any moment he may break down again!” - -“I would never ask you to leave him,” said Roy. “Our marriage would not -at all involve that. It would be a proof to him of how little this -wretched business affects my opinion of him; it would prove to all the -world that we don’t regard it as anything but the merest accident.” - -“Do you think the world would be convinced?” said Sigrid, very bitterly. -“I will tell you what it would say. It would say that I had so entangled -you that you could not free yourself, and that, in spite of Frithiof’s -disgrace, you were obliged to marry me. And that shall never be said.” - -“For heaven’s sake don’t let the miserable gossip, the worthless opinion -of outsiders, make our lives miserable. What do we care for the world? -It is nothing to us. Let them say what they will; so long as they only -say lies what difference does it make to us?” - -“You don’t know what you are talking about,” she said, and for the first -time the tears rushed to her eyes. “Your life has been all sheltered and -happy. But out there in Bergen I have had to bear coldness and contempt -and the knowledge that even death did not shield my father from the -poisonous tongues of the slanderers. Lies can’t make the things they say -true, but do you think that lies have no power to harm you? no power to -torture you? Oh! before you say that you should just try.” - -Her words pierced his heart; the more he realized the difficulties of -her life the more intolerable grew the longing to help her, to shield -her, to defy the opinion of outsiders for her sake. - -“But don’t you see,” he urged, “that it is only a form of pride which -you are giving way to? It is only that which is keeping us apart.” - -“And what if it is,” she replied, her eyes flashing. “A woman has a -right to be proud in such matters. Besides, it is not only pride. It is -that I can’t think of happiness while Frithiof is miserable. My first -duty is to him; and how could I flaunt my happiness in his face? how -could I now bring back to him the remembrance of all his past troubles?” - -“At least wait,” pleaded Roy, once more; “at least let me once more ask -your final answer a few months hence.” - -“I will wait until Frithiof’s name is cleared,” she said passionately. -“You may ask me again then, not before.” - -Then seeing the despair in his face her strength all at once gave way, -she turned aside trying to hide her tears. He stood up and came toward -her, her grief gave him fresh hope and courage. - -“Sigrid,” he said, “I will not urge you any more. It shall be as you -wish. Other men have had to wait. I suppose I, too, can bear it. I only -ask one thing, tell me this once that you love me.” - -He saw the lovely color flood her cheek, she turned toward him silently -but with all her soul in her eyes. For a minute he held her closely, and -just then it was impossible that he could realize the hopelessness of -the case. Strong with the rapture of the confession she had made, it was -not then, nor indeed for many hours after, that cold despair gripped his -heart once more. She loved him—he loved her with the whole strength of -his being. Was it likely that a miserable five-pound note could for ever -divide them? Poor Roy! as Sigrid had said, he had lived such a sheltered -life. He knew so little of the world. - - - - - CHAPTER XXIX. - - -It is of course a truism that we never fully appreciate what we have, -until some trouble or some other loss shows us all that has grown -familiar in a fresh light. Our life-long friends are only perhaps valued -at their true worth when some friendship of recent growth has proved -fleeting and full of disappointment. And though many may love their -homes, yet a home can only be properly appreciated by one who has had to -bear from the outside world contempt and misunderstanding and harsh -judgment. Fond as he had been of his home before, Frithiof had never -until now quite realized what it meant to him. But as each evening he -returned from work, and from the severe trial of an atmosphere of -suspicion and dislike, he felt much as the sailor feels when, after -tossing about all day in stormy seas he anchors at night in some harbor -of refuge. Sigrid knew that he felt this, and she was determined that he -should not even guess at her trouble. Luckily she had plenty to do, so -that it was impossible for her to sit and look her sorrow in the face, -or brood over it in idleness. It was with her certainly as she went -about her household work, with her as she and Swanhild walked through -the hot and crowded streets, and with her as she played at Madame -Lechertier’s Academy. But there was something in the work that prevented -the trouble from really preying on her mind, she was sad indeed yet not -in despair. - -Nevertheless Madame Lechertier’s quick eyes noted at once the change in -her favorite. - -“You are not well, _chérie_,” she said, “your face looks worn. Why, my -dear, I can actually see lines in your forehead. At your age that is -inexcusable.” - -Sigrid laughed. - -“I have a bad habit of wrinkling it up when I am worried about -anything,” she said. “To-day, perhaps, I am a little tired. It is so hot -and sultry, and besides I am anxious about Frithiof, it is a trying time -for him.” - -“Yes, this heat is trying to the strongest,” said Madame Lechertier, -fanning herself. “Swanhild, my angel, there are some new bonbons in that -box, help yourself.” - -This afternoon it happened to be a children’s class, and Madame -Lechertier invariably regaled them in the intervals of rest with the -most delicious French sweetmeats. It was a pretty sight to see the -groups of little ones, and Swanhild in her dainty Norwegian costume, -handing the bonbons to each in turn. Sigrid always liked to watch this -part of the performance, and perhaps the most comforting thought to her -just then was, that as far as Swanhild was concerned, the new life, in -spite of its restrictions and economies, seemed to answer so well. The -child was never happier than when hard at work at the academy; even on -this hot summer day she never complained; and in truth the afternoons -just brought the right amount of variety into what would otherwise have -been a very monotonous life. - -“Sigrid,” said the little girl, as they walked home together, “is it -true what you said to Madame Lechertier about Frithiof feeling the heat? -Is it really that which has made him so grave the last few days?” - -“It is partly that,” replied Sigrid. “But he has a good deal to trouble -him that you are too young to understand, things that will not bear -talking about. You must try to make it bright and cheerful at home.” - -Swanhild sighed. It was not so easy to be bright and cheerful all by -one’s self, and of late Frithiof and Sigrid had been—as she expressed it -in the quaint Norse idiom—silent as lighted candles. People talk a great -deal about the happy freedom from care which children can enjoy, but as -a matter of fact many a child feels the exact state of the home -atmosphere, and puzzles its head over the unknown troubles which are -grieving the elders, often magnifying trifles into most alarming and -menacing sources of danger. But Frithiof never guessed either little -Swanhild’s perplexities, or Sigrid’s trouble; when he returned all -seemed to him natural and homelike; and perhaps it was as much with the -desire to be still with them as from any recollection of Donati’s words, -that on the following Sunday he set off with them to the service held -during the summer evenings at Westminster Abbey. - -What impression the beautiful service made on him Sigrid could not tell, -but the sermon was unluckily the very last he ought to have heard. The -learned Oxford professor who preached to the great throng of people that -night could have understood very little how his words would affect many -of his hearers; he preached as a pessimist, he drew a miserable picture -of the iniquity and injustice of the world, all things were going wrong, -the times were out of joint, but he suggested no remedy, he did not even -indicate that there was another side to the picture. The congregation -dispersed. In profound depression, Frithiof walked down the nave, and -passed out into the cool evening air. Miserable as life had seemed to -him before, it now seemed doubly miserable, it was all a great wretched -problem to which there was no solution, a purposeless whirl of buying -and selling, a selfish struggle for existence. They walked past the -Aquarium, the dingy side streets looked unlovely enough on that summer -night, and the dreary words he had heard haunted him persistently, -harmonizing only too well with the _cui bono_ that at all times was apt -to suggest itself to his mind. A wretched, clouded life in a miserable -world, misfortunes which he had never deserved eternally dogging his -steps, his own case merely one of a million similar or worse cases. -Where was the use of it all? - -A voice close beside him made him start. They were passing a corner -where two streets crossed each other, and the words that fell upon his -ear, spoken with a strange fervor yet with deep reverence, were just -these: - -“Jesus, blessed Jesus!” - -He glanced sharply round and saw a little crowd of people gathered -together; the words had been read from a hymn-book by a man whose whole -heart had been thrown into what he read. They broke into Frithiof’s -revery very strangely. Then immediately the people began to sing the -well-known hymn, “The Great Physician now is near,” and the familiar -tune, which had long ago penetrated to Norway, brought to Frithiof’s -mind a host of old memories. Was it after all true that the problem had -been solved? Was it true that in spite of suffering and sin and misery -the pledge of ultimate victory had already been given? Was it true that -he whose uncongenial work seemed chiefly to consist of passive endurance -had yet a share in helping to bring about the final triumph of good? - -From the words read by the street preacher, his mind involuntarily -turned to the words spoken to him a few days before by a stage singer. -Donati had spoken of living the life of the crucified. He had said very -little, but what he said had the marvelous power of all essentially true -things. He had spoken not as a conventional utterer of platitudes, but -as one man who has fought and agonized and overcome, many speak to -another man who, bewildered by the confusion of the battle-field, begins -to doubt his own cause. And far more than anything actually said there -came to him the thought of Donati’s own life, what he had himself -observed of it, and what he had heard of his story from Cecil. A -wonderfully great admission was made lately by a celebrated agnostic -writer when he said that, “The true Christian saint, though a rare -phenomenon, is one of the most wonderful to be witnessed in the moral -world.” Nor was the admission much qualified by the closing remark,—“So -lofty, so pure, so attractive that he ravishes men’s souls into oblivion -of the patent and general fact that he is an exception among thousands -of millions of professing Christians.” - -Frithiof’s soul was not in the least ravished into oblivion of this -fact; he was as ready as before, perhaps more ready, to admit the -general selfishness of mankind, certainly he was more than ever -conscious of his own shortcomings, and daily found pride and selfishness -and ungraciousness in his own life and character. But his love for -Donati, his great admiration for him, had changed his whole view of the -possibilities of human life. The Italian had doubtless been specially -fortunate in his parentage, but his life had been one of unusual -temptation, his extremely rapid change from great misery to the height -of popularity and success had alone been a very severe trial, though -perhaps it was what Frithiof had heard of his three years in the -traveling opera company that appealed to him most. Donati was certainly -saint and hero in one; but it was not only men of natural nobility who -were called to live this life of the crucified. All men were called to -it. Deep down in his heart he knew that even for him it was no -impossibility. And something of Donati’s incredulous scorn as he flung -back the word “impossible” in his face, returned to him now and nerved -him to a fresh attack on the uncongenial life and the faulty character -with which he had to work. The week passed by pretty well, and the -following Sunday found him tired indeed, but less down-hearted, and -better able to keep at arm’s length his old foe depression. For that -foe, though chiefly due to physical causes, can, as all doctors will -bear witness, to be a great extent held in check by spiritual energy. - -The morning was so bright that Sigrid persuaded him to take a walk, and -fully intending to return in an hour’s time to his translating, he paced -along the embankment. But either the fine day, or the mere pleasure of -exercise, or some sort of curiosity to see a part of London of which he -had heard a great deal, lured him on. He crossed BlackFriars Bridge and -walked farther and farther, following the course of the river eastward -into a region, dreary indeed, yet at times picturesque, with the river -gleaming in the sunshine, and on the farther bank the Tower—solid and -grim, as befitted the guardian of so many secrets of the past. Even here -there was a quiet Sunday feeling, while something familiar in the sight -of the water and the shipping carried him back in imagination to Norway, -and there came over him an intense longing for his own country. It was a -feeling that often took possession of him, nor could he any more account -for its sudden seizures than the Swiss can account for that sick longing -for his native mountains to which he is often liable. - -“It’s no use,” he thought to himself. “It will take me the best part of -my life to pay off the debts, and till they are paid I can’t go.” - -He turned his eyes from the river, as though by doing so he could drag -his thoughts from Norway, when to his astonishment he all at once caught -sight of his own national flag—the well known blue and white cross on -the red ground. His breath came fast, he walked on quickly to get a -nearer view of the building from which the flag floated. Hurriedly -pushing open the door, he entered the place, and found himself in a -church, which presented the most curious contrast to churches in -general, for it was almost full of men, and the seven or eight women who -were there made little impression, their voices being drowned in the -hearty singing of the great bulk of the congregation. - -They began to sing just as he entered; the tune was one which he had -known all his life, and a host of memories came back to him as he heard -once more the slow and not too melodious singing, rendered striking, -however, because of the fervor of the honest Norsemen. Tears, which all -his troubles had not called forth, started now to his eyes as he -listened to the words which carried him right out of the foreign land -back to his childhood at Bergen. - -[Illustration: - - Sörg o kjare fader du, Jeg wil ik-ke - sör-ge, Ik-ke med be kym-ret hu, - Om min frem-tid spör-ge. Sörg du for mig - al min tid, Sörg for mig og mi-ne; Gud al-mæg-tig - naa-dig, blid, Sörg for al-le di-ne!] - -Translation. - - “Care, oh, dear Father, Thou, - I will not care; - Not with troubled mind - About my future ask. - Care thou for me all my life, - Care for me and mine; - God Almighty, gracious, good, - Care for all Thine!” - -An onlooker, even a foreigner not understanding the language, could not -fail to have been touched by the mere sight of this strange gathering in -the heart of London,—the unpretentious building, the antique look of the -clergyman in his gown and Elizabethan ruff, the ranks of men—numbering -nearly four hundred—with their grave, weather-beaten faces, the greater -number of them sailors, but with a sprinkling of business men living in -the neighborhood, and the young Norseman who had just entered, with his -pride broken down by memories of an old home, his love of Norway leading -him to the realization that he was also a citizen of another country, -and his stern face softened to that expression which is always so full -of pathos—the expression of intent listening. - -In the Norwegian church the subject of the sermon is arranged throughout -the year. On this second Sunday after Trinity it was on the Gospel for -the day, the parable of the Master of the House who made a great supper, -and of the guests who “all with one consent began to make excuse.” There -was nothing new in what Frithiof heard; he had heard it all in the old -times, and, entirely satisfied with the happiness of self-pleasing, had -been among the rich who had been sent empty away. Now he came poor and -in need, and found that after all it is the hungry who are “filled with -good things.” - -Very gradually, and helped by many flashes of light which had from time -to time come to him in his darkest hours, he had during the last two -years groped his way from the vague and somewhat flippant belief in a -good providence, which he had once announced to Blanche as his creed, -and had learnt to believe in the All-Father. His meeting with Donati had -exercised, and still continued to exercise, an extraordinary influence -over him; but it was not until this Sunday morning, in his own national -church, not until in his own language he once more heard the entreaty, -“Come, for all things are now ready!” that he fully realized how he had -neglected the life of Sonship. - -With an Infinite Love belonging to him by right, he had allowed himself -to be miserable, isolated, and bitter. To many distinct commands he had -turned a deaf ear. To One who needed him and asked his love he had -replied in the jargon of the nineteenth century, but in the spirit of -the old Bible story, that practical matters needed him and that he could -not come. - -When the preacher went on to speak of the Lord’s Supper, and the -distinct command that all should come to it, Frithiof began to perceive -for the first time that he had regarded this service merely as the -incomprehensible communication of a great gift—whereas this was in truth -only one side of it, and he, also, had to give himself up to One who -actually needed him. It was characteristic of his honest nature that -when he at last perceived this truth he no longer made excuse but -promptly obeyed, not waiting for full understanding, not troubling at -all about controversial points, but simply doing what he recognized as -his duty. - -And when in a rapid survey of the past there came recollections of -Blanche and the wrong she had done him, he was almost startled to find -how quietly he could think of her, how possible it had become to blot -out all the resentful memories, all the reproachful thoughts that for so -long had haunted him. For the first time he entirely forgave her, and in -the very act of forgiving he seemed to regain something of the -brightness which she had driven from his life, and to gain something -better and truer than had as yet been his. - -All the selfish element had died out of his love for her; there remained -only the sadness of thinking of her disgrace, and a longing that, even -yet, the good might prevail in her life. Was there no recovery from such -a fall? Was no allowance to be made for her youth and her great -temptations? If she really repented ought not her husband once more to -receive her; and give her the protection which he alone could give? - -Kneeling there in the quiet he faced that great problem, and with eyes -cleared by love, with his pride altogether laid low, and knowing what it -was both to forgive and to be forgiven, he saw beyond the conventional -view taken by the world. There was no escaping the great law of -forgiveness laid down by Christ, “If he repent, forgive him.” “Forgive -even as also ye are forgiven.” And if marriage was taken as a symbol of -the union between Christ and the Church, how was it possible to exclude -the idea of forgiveness for faithlessness truly repented of? Had he been -in Lord Romiaux’s place he knew that he must have forgiven her, that if -necessary he must have set the whole world at defiance, in order once -more to shelter her from the deadly peril to which, alone, she must -always be exposed. - -And so it happened that love turned to good even the early passion that -had apparently made such havoc of his life, and used it now to raise him -out of the thought of his own trouble and undeserved disgrace, used it -to lift him out of the selfishness and hardness that for so long had -been cramping an otherwise fine nature. - - - - - CHAPTER XXX. - - -Perhaps it was almost a relief both to Frithiof and to Sigrid that, just -at this time, all intercourse with Rowan Tree House should become -impossible. Lance and Gwen had sickened with scarlatina, and, of course, -all communication was at end for some time to come; it would have been -impossible that things should have gone on as before after Frithiof’s -trouble: he was far too proud to permit such a thing, though the -Bonifaces would have done their best utterly to forget what had -happened. It would moreover have been difficult for Sigrid to fall back -in her former position of familiar friendship after her last interview -with Roy. So that, perhaps, the only person who sighed over the -separation was Cecil, and she was fortunately kept so busy by her little -patients that she had not time to think much of the future. Whenever the -thought did cross her mind—“How is all this going to end?”—such -miserable perplexity seized her that she was glad to turn back to the -present, which, however painful, was at any rate endurable. But the -strain of that secret anxiety, and the physical fatigue of nursing the -two children, began to tell on her, she felt worn and old, and the look -that always frightened Mrs. Boniface came back to her face—the look that -made the poor mother think of the two graves in Norwood Cemetery. - -By the middle of August, Lance and Gwen had recovered, and were taken -down to the seaside, while Rowan Tree House was delivered into the hands -of the painters and whitewashers to be thoroughly disinfected. But in -spite of lovely weather that summer’s holiday proved a very dreary one. -Roy was in the depths of depression, and it seemed to Cecil that a great -shadow had fallen upon everything. - -“Robin,” said Mrs. Boniface, “I want you to take that child to -Switzerland for a month; this place is doing her no good at all. She -wants change and mountain air.” - -So the father and mother plotted and planned, and in September Cecil, -much against her will, was packed off to Switzerland to see -snow-mountains, and waterfalls, when all the time she would far rather -been seeing the prosaic heights of the model lodging-houses, and the -dull London streets. Still, being a sensible girl, she did her best with -what was put before her, and, though her mind was a good deal with -Sigrid and Frithiof in their trouble and anxiety, yet physically she -gained great good from the tour, and came back with a color in her -cheeks which satisfied her mother. - -“By-the-by, dearie,” remarked Mrs. Boniface, the day after her return, -“your father thought you would like to hear the _Elijah_ to-night at the -Albert Hall, and he has left you two tickets.” - -“Why, Albani is singing, is she not?” cried Cecil. “Oh yes; I should -like to go of all things!” - -“Then I tell you what we will do; we will send a card and ask Mrs. -Horner to go with you, for it’s the Church meeting to-night, and father -and I do not want to miss it.” - -Cecil could make no objection to this, though her pleasure was rather -damped by the prospect of having Mrs. Horner as her companion. There was -little love lost between them, for the innate refinement of the one -jarred upon the innate vulgarity of the other, and _vice versâ_. - -It was a little after seven o’clock when Cecil drove to the Horners’ -house and was ushered into the very gorgeous drawing-room. It was empty, -and by a sort of instinct which she could never resist, she crossed over -to the fireplace and gazed up at the clock, which ever since her -childhood had by its ugliness attracted her much as a moth is attracted -to a candle. It was a huge clock with a little white face and a great -golden rock, upon which golden pigs browsed with a golden swineherd in -attendance. - -“My dear,” exclaimed Mrs. Horner, entering with a perturbed face, “did -not my letter reach you in time? I made sure it would. The fact is, I am -not feeling quite up to going out to-night. Could you find any one else, -do you think, who would go with you?” - -Cecil thought for a moment. - -“Sigrid would have liked it, but I know she is too busy just now,” she -remarked. - -“And, oh, my dear, far better go alone than take Miss Falck!” said Mrs. -Horner. “I shall never forget what I endured when I took her with me to -hear Corney Grain; she laughed aloud, my dear; laughed till she -positively cried, and even went so far as to clap her hands. It makes me -hot to think of it even.” - -Mrs. Horner belonged to that rather numerous section of English people -who think that it is a sign of good breeding to show no emotion. She had -at one time been rather taken by Sigrid’s charming manner, but the -Norwegian girl was far too simple and unaffected, far too spontaneous, -to remain long in Mrs. Horner’s good books; she had no idea of enjoying -things in a placid, conventional, semi-bored way, and her clear, ringing -laugh was in itself an offense. Mrs. Horner herself never gave more than -a polite smile, or at times, when her powers of restraint were too much -taxed, a sort of uncomfortable gurgle in her throat, with compressed -lips, which gallantly tried to strangle her unseemly mirth. - -“I always enjoy going anywhere with Sigrid,” said Cecil, who, gentle as -she was, would never consent to be over-ridden by Mrs. Horner. “It seems -to me that her wonderful faculty for enjoying everything is very much to -be envied. However, there is no chance of her going to-night; I will -call and see whether one of the Greenwoods is disengaged.” - -So with hasty farewells she went off, laughing to herself as the cab -rattled along to think of Mrs. Horner’s discomfort and Sigrid’s intense -appreciation of Corney Grain. Fate, however, seemed to be against her; -her friends, the Greenwoods, were out for the evening, and there was -nothing left for it but to drive home again, or else to go in alone and -trust to finding Roy afterward. To sacrifice her chance of hearing the -_Elijah_ with Albani as soprano merely to satisfy Mrs. Grundy was too -much for Cecil. She decided to go alone, and, writing a few words on a -card asking Roy to come to her at the end of the oratorio, she sent it -to the _artistes’_ room by one of the attendants, and settled herself -down to enjoy the music, secretly rather glad to have an empty chair -instead of Mrs. Horner beside her. - -All at once the color rushed to her cheeks, for, looking up, she saw -Frithiof crossing the platform; she watched him place the score on the -conductor’s desk, and turn to answer the question of some one in the -orchestra, then disappear again within the swing-doors leading to the -back regions. She wondered much what he was thinking of as he went -through his prosaic duties so rapidly, wondered if his mind was away in -Norway all the time—whether autumn had brought to him, as she knew it -generally did, the strong craving for his old life of adventure—the -longing to handle a gun once more; or whether, perhaps, his trouble had -overshadowed even that, and whether he was thinking instead of that -baffling mystery which had caused them all so much pain. And all through -the oratorio she seemed to be hearing everything with his ears; -wondering how the choruses would strike him, or hoping that he was in a -good place for hearing Albani’s exquisite rendering of “Hear ye, -Israel.” She wondered a little that Roy did not come to her, or, at any -rate, send her some message, and at the end of the last chorus began to -feel a little anxious and uncomfortable. At last, to her great relief, -she saw Frithiof coming toward her. - -“Your brother has never come,” he said, in reply to her greeting. “I -suppose this fog must have hindered him, for he told me he should be -here; and I have been expecting him every moment.” - -“Is the fog so bad as all that?” said Cecil, rather anxiously. - -“It was very bad when I came,” said Frithiof. “However, by good luck, I -managed to grope my way to Portland Road, and came down by the -Metropolitan. Will you let me see you home?” - -“Thank you, but it is so dreadfully out of your way. I should be very -glad if you would, only it is troubling you so much.” - -Something in her eager yet half-shy welcome, and in the sense that she -was one of the very few who really believed in him, filled Frithiof with -a happiness which he could scarcely have explained to himself. - -“You will be giving me a very great pleasure,” he said. “I expect there -will be a rush on the trains. Shall we try for a cab?” - -So they walked out together into the dense fog, Cecil with a blissful -sense of confidence in the man who piloted her so adroitly through the -crowd, and seemed so astonishingly cool and indifferent amid the -perilous confusion of wheels and hoofs, which always appeared in the -quarter where one least expected them. - -At last, after much difficulty, Frithiof secured a hansom, and put her -into it. She was secretly relieved that he got in too. - -“I will come back with you if you will allow me,” he said; “for I am not -quite sure whether this is not a more dangerous part of the adventure -than when we were on foot. I never saw such a fog! Why, we can’t even -see the horse, much less where he is going.” - -“How thankful I am that you were here! It would have been dreadful all -alone,” said Cecil; and she explained to him how Mrs. Horner had failed -her at the last moment. - -He made no comment, but in his heart he was glad that both Mrs. Horner -and Roy should have proved faithless, and that the duty of seeing Cecil -home had devolved upon him. - -“You have not met my mother since she came back from the sea,” said -Cecil. “Are you still afraid of infection? The house has been thoroughly -painted and fumigated.” - -“Oh, it is not that,” said Frithiof “but while this cloud is still over -me, I can’t come. You do not realize how it affects everything.” - -Perhaps she realized much more than he fancied, but she only said. - -“It does not affect your own home.” - -“No, that’s true,” said Frithiof. “It has made me value that more, and -it has made me value your friendship more. But, you see, you are the -only one at Rowan Tree House who still believes in me; and how you -manage to do it passes my comprehension—when there is nothing to prove -me innocent.” - -“None of the things which we believe in most can be absolutely proved,” -said Cecil. “I can’t logically justify my belief in you any more than in -our old talks I could justify my belief in the unseen world.” - -“Do you remember that first Sunday when I was staying with you, and you -asked me whether I had found a Norwegian church!” - -“Yes, very well. It vexed me so much to have said anything about it; but -you see, I had always lived with people who went to church or chapel as -regularly as they took their meals.” - -“Well, do you know I was wrong; there is a Norwegian church down near -the Commercial Docks at Rotherhithe.” - -And then lured on by her unspoken sympathy, and favored by the darkness, -he told her of the strong influence which the familiar old chorale had -had upon him, and how it had carried him back to the time of his -confirmation—that time which to all Norwegians is full of deep meaning -and intense reality, so that even in the indifferentism of later years -and the fogs of doubt which pain and trouble conjure up, its memory -still lingers, ready to be touched into life at the very first -opportunity. - -“It is too far for Sigrid and Swanhild to go very often, but to me it is -like a bit of Norway planted down in this great wilderness of houses,” -he said. “It was strange that I should have happened to come across it -so unexpectedly just at the time when I most needed it.” - -“But that surely is what always happens,” said Cecil. “When we really -need a thing we get it.” - -“You learned before I did to distinguish between needing and wanting,” -said Frithiof. “It comes to some people easily, I suppose. But I, you -see, had to lose everything before understanding—to lose even my -reputation for common honesty. Even now it seems to be hardly possible -that life should go on under such a cloud as that. Yet the days pass -somehow, and I believe that it was this trouble which drove me to what I -really needed.” - -“It is good of you to tell me this,” said Cecil. “It seems to put a -meaning into this mystery which is always puzzling me and seeming so -useless and unjust. By the by, Roy tells me that Darnell has left.” - -“Yes,” said Frithiof, “he left at Michaelmas. Things have been rather -smoother since then.” - -“I can’t help thinking that his leaving just now is in direct evidence -against him,” said Cecil. “Sigrid and I suspected him from the first. Do -you not suspect him?” - -“Yes,” he replied, “I do. But without any reason.” - -“Why did he go?” - -“His wife was ill, and was ordered to a warmer climate. He has taken a -situation at Plymouth. After all, there is no real evidence against him, -and a great deal of evidence against me. How is it that you suspect -him?” - -“It is because I know you had nothing to do with it,” said Cecil. - -He had guessed what her answer would be, yet loved to hear her say the -words. - -It seemed to him that the dense fog, and the long drive at foot pace, -and the anxiety to see the right way, and the manifold difficulties and -dangers of this night, resembled his own life. And then it struck him -how tedious the drive would have been to him but for Cecil’s presence, -and he saw how great a difference her trust and friendship made to him. -He had always liked her, but now gratitude and reverence woke a new -feeling in his heart. Blanche’s faithlessness had so crippled his life -that no thought of love in the ordinary sense of the word—of love -culminating in marriage—came to his mind. But yet his heart went out to -Cecil, and a new influence crept into his life—an influence that -softened his hardness, that quieted his feverish impatience, that -strengthened him to endure. - -“Sigrid and Swanhild have been away with Mme. Lechertier, have they -not?” asked Cecil, after a silence. - -“Yes, they went to Hastings for a fortnight. We shut up the rooms, and I -went down to Herr Sivertsen, who was staying near Warlingham, a charming -little place in the Surrey hills.” - -“Sigrid told me you were with him, but I fancied she meant in London.” - -“No; once a year he tears himself from his dingy den in Museum Street, -and goes down to this place. We were out of doors most of the day, and -in the evening worked for four or five hours at a translation of Darwin -which he is very anxious to get finished. Hullo! what is wrong?” - -He might well ask, for the horse was kicking and plunging violently. -Shouts and oaths echoed through the murky darkness. Then they could just -make out the outline of another horse at right angles with their own. He -was almost upon them, struggling frantically, and the shaft of the cab -belonging to him would have struck Cecil violently in the face had not -Frithiof seized it and wrenched it away with all his force. Then, -suddenly, the horse was dragged backward, their hansom shivered, reeled, -and finally fell on its side. - -Cecil’s heart beat fast, she turned deadly white, just felt in the -horrible moment of falling a sense of relief when Frithiof threw his arm -around her and held her fast; then for an interval realized nothing at -all, so stunning was the violence with which they came to the ground. -Apparently both the cabs had gone over and were lying in an -extraordinary entanglement, while both horses seemed to be still on -their feet, to judge by the sounds of kicking and plunging. The danger -was doubled by the blinding fog, which made it impossible to realize -where one might expect hoofs. - -“Are you hurt?” asked Frithiof anxiously. - -“No,” replied Cecil, gasping for breath. “Only shaken. How are we to get -out?” - -He lifted her away from him, and managed with some difficulty to -scramble up. Then, before she had time to think of the peril, he had -taken her in his arms, and, rashly perhaps, but very dexterously, -carried her out of danger. Had she not trusted him so entirely it would -have been a dreadful minute to her; and even as it was she turned sick -and giddy as she was lifted up, and heard hoofs in perilous proximity, -and felt Frithiof cautiously stepping out into that darkness that might -be felt, and swaying a little beneath her weight. - -“Wont you put me down?—I am too heavy for you,” she said. But, even as -she spoke, she felt him shake with laughter at the idea. - -“I could carry you for miles, now that we are safely out of the wreck,” -he said. “Here is a curbstone, and—yes, by good luck, the steps of a -house. Now, shall we ring up the people and ask them to shelter you -while I just lend a hand with the cab?” - -“No, no, it is so late, I will wait here. Take care you don’t get hurt.” - -He disappeared into the fog, and she understood him well enough to know -that he would keenly enjoy the difficulty of getting matters straight -again. - -“I think accidents agree with you,” she said laughingly, when by and by -he came back to her, seeming unusually cheerful. - -“I can’t help laughing now to think of the ridiculous way in which both -cabs went down and both horses stood up,” he said. “It is wonderful that -more damage was not done. We all seem to have escaped with bruises, and -nothing is broken except the shafts.” - -“Let us walk home now,” said Cecil “Does any one know whereabout we -are?” - -“The driver says it is Battersea Bridge Road, some way from Rowan Tree -House, you see, but, if you would not be too tired, it would certainly -be better not to stay for another cab.” - -So they set off, and, with much difficulty, at length groped their way -to Brixton, not getting home till long after midnight. At the door -Frithiof said good-by, and for the first time since the accident Cecil -remembered his trouble; in talking of many things she had lost sight of -it, but now it came back to her with a swift pang, all the harder to -bear because of the happiness of the last half-hour. - -“You must not go back without resting and having something to eat,” she -said pleadingly. - -“You are very kind,” he replied, “but I can not come in.” - -“But I shall be so unhappy about you, if you go all that long way back -without food; come in, if it is only to please me.” - -Something in her tone touched him, and at that moment the door was -opened by Mr. Boniface himself. - -“Why, Cecil,” he cried. “We have been quite anxious about you.” - -“Frithiof saw me home because of the fog,” she explained. “And our -hansom was overturned at Battersea, so we have had to walk from there. -Please ask Frithiof to come in, father, we are so dreadfully cold and -hungry, yet he will insist on going straight home.” - -“It’s not to be thought of,” said Mr. Boniface. “Come in, come in, I -never saw such a fog.” - -So once more Frithiof found himself in the familiar house which always -seemed so homelike to him, and for the first time since his disgrace he -shook hands with Mrs. Boniface; she was kindness itself, and yet somehow -the meeting was painful and Frithiof wished himself once more in the -foggy streets. Cecil seemed intuitively to know how he felt, for she -talked fast and gayly as though to fill up the sense of something -wanting which was oppressing him. - -“I am sure we are very grateful to you,” said Mrs. Boniface, when she -had heard all about the adventure, and his rescue of Cecil. “I can’t -think what Cecil would have done without you. As for Roy, finding it so -foggy and having a bad headache, he came home early and is now gone to -bed. But come in and get warm by the fire. I don’t know why we are all -standing in the hall.” - -She led the way into the drawing-room, and Cecil gave a cry of -astonishment, for, standing on the hearth-rug was a little figure in a -red dressing-gown, looking very much like a wooden Noah in a toy ark. - -“Why, Lance,” she cried, “you up at this time of night!” - -The little fellow flew to meet her and clung round her neck. - -“I really couldn’t exackly help crying,” he said, “for I couldn’t keep -the tears out of my eyes.” - -“He woke up a few minutes ago,” said Mrs. Boniface, “and finding your -bed empty thought that something dreadful had happened to you, and as -nurse was asleep I brought him down here, for he was so cold and -frightened.” - -By this time Lance had released Cecil and was clinging to Frithiof. - -“Gwen and me’s been ill,” he said proudly, “and I’ve grown a whole inch -since you were here last. My throat doesn’t hurten me now at all.” - -The happy unconsciousness of the little fellow seemed to thaw Frithiof -at once, the wretched five-pound note ceased to haunt him as he sat with -Lance on his knee, and he ate without much thought the supper that he -had fancied would choke him. For Lance, who was faithful to his old -friends, entirely refused to leave him, but serenely ate biscuits and -begged stray sips of his hot cocoa, his merry childish talk filling up -the gaps in a wonderful way and setting them all at their ease. - -“Had you not better stay here for the night?” said Mrs. Boniface -presently. “I can’t bear to think of your having that long walk through -the fog.” - -“You are very kind,” he said, “but Sigrid would be frightened if I -didn’t turn up,” and kissing Lance, he sat him down on the hearthrug, -and rose to go. Cecil’s thanks and warm hand-clasp lingered with him -pleasantly, and he set out on his walk home all the better for his visit -to Rowan Tree House. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXI. - - -Had it not been for the fog his long walk might have made him sleepy, -but the necessity of keeping every faculty on the alert and of sharply -watching every crossing and every landmark made that out of the -question. Moreover, now that he had quite recovered from his illness it -took a great deal to tire him, and, whenever he did succumb, it was to -mental worry, never to physical fatigue. So he tramped along pretty -cheerfully, rather enjoying the novelty of the thing, but making as much -haste as he could on account of Sigrid. He had just reached the outer -door of the model lodgings and was about to unlock it with the key which -was always furnished to those whose work detained them beyond the hour -of closing, when he was startled by something that sounded like a sob -close by him. He paused and listened; it came again. - -“Who is there?” he said, straining his eyes to pierce the thick curtain -of fog that hung before him. - -The figure of a woman approached him. - -“Oh, sir,” she said, checking her sobs, “have you the key, and can you -let me in?” - -“Yes, I have a key. Do you live here?” - -“No, sir, but I’m sister to Mrs. Hallifield. Perhaps you know -Hallifield, the tram conductor. I came to see him to-night because he -was taken so ill, but I got hindered setting out again, and didn’t allow -time to get back to Macdougal’s. I’m in his shop, and the rule at his -boarding-house is that the door is closed at eleven and mayn’t be opened -any more, and when I got there sir, being hindered with the fog, it was -five minutes past.” - -“And they wouldn’t let you in?” asked Frithiof. “What an abominable -thing—the man ought to be ashamed of himself for having such a rule! -Come in; why you must be half-frozen! I know your sister quite well!” - -“I can never thank you enough,” said the poor girl. “I thought I should -have had to stay out all night! There’s a light, I see, in the window; -my brother-in-law is worse, I expect.” - -“What is wrong with him?” asked Frithiof. - -“Oh, he’s been failing this long time,” said the girl; “it’s the long -hours of the trams he’s dying of. There’s never any rest for them you -see, sir; winter and summer, Sunday and week-day they have to drudge on. -He’s a kind husband and a good father too, and he will go on working for -the sake of keeping the home together, but it’s little of the home he -sees when he has to be away from it sixteen hours every day. They say -they’re going to give more holidays and shorter hours, but there’s a -long time spent in talking of things, it seems to me, and in the -meanwhile John’s dying.” - -Frithiof remembered how Sigrid had mentioned this very thing to him in -the summer when he had told her of his disgrace; he had been too full of -his own affairs to heed her much, but now his heart grew hot at the -thought of this pitiable waste of human life, this grinding out of a -larger dividend at the cost of such terrible suffering. It was a sign -that his new life had actually begun when, instead of merely railing at -the injustice of the world, he began to think what he himself could do -in this matter. - -“Perhaps they will want the doctor fetched. I will come with you to the -door and you shall just see,” he said. - -And the girl thanking him, knocked at her sister’s door, spoke to some -one inside, and returning, asked him to come in. To his surprise he -found Sigrid in the little kitchen; she was walking to and fro with the -baby, a sturdy little fellow of a year old. - -“You are back at last,” she said, “I was getting quite anxious about -you. Mr. Hallifield was taken so much worse to-day, and hearing the baby -crying I came in to help.” - -“How about the doctor? Do they want him fetched?” - -“No, he came here about ten o’clock, and he says there is nothing to be -done; it is only a question of hours now.” - -At this moment the poor wife came into the kitchen; she was still quite -young, and the dumb anguish in her face brought the tears to Sigrid’s -eyes. - -“What, Clara!” she exclaimed, perceiving her sister, “you back again!” - -“I was too late,” said the girl, “and they had locked me out. But it’s -no matter now that the gentleman has let me in here. Is John worse -again.” - -“He’ll not last long,” said the wife, “and he be that set on getting in -here to the fire, for he’s mortal cold. But I doubt if he’s strength to -walk so far.” - -“Frithiof, you could help him in,” said Sigrid. - -“Will you, sir? I’ll thank you kindly if you will,” said Mrs. -Hallifield, leading the way to the bedroom. - -Frithiof followed her, and glancing toward the bed could hardly control -the awed surprise which seized him as for the first time he saw a man -upon whom the shadow of death had already fallen. Once or twice he had -met Hallifield in the passage setting off to his work in the early -morning, and he contrasted his recollection of the brisk, -fair-complexioned, respectable-looking conductor, and this man propped -up with pillows, his face drawn with pain, and of that ghastly ashen hue -which is death’s herald. - -“The Norwegian gentleman is here, and will help you into the kitchen, -John,” said the wife, beginning to swathe him in blankets. - -“Thank you, sir,” said the man gratefully. “It’s just a fancy I’ve got -to die in there by the fire, though I doubt I’ll never get warm any -more.” - -Frithiof carried him in gently and set him down in a cushioned chair -drawn close to the fire; he seemed pleased by the change of scene, and -looked round the tidy little room with brightening eyes. - -“It’s a nice little place!” he said. “I wish I could think you would -keep it together, Bessie, but with the four children you’ll have a hard -struggle to live.” - -For the first time she broke down and hid her face in her apron. A look -of keen pain passed over the face of the dying man, he clinched and -unclinched his hands. But Sigrid, who was rocking the baby on the other -side of the hearth, bent forward and spoke to him soothingly. - -“Don’t you trouble about that part of it,” she said. “We will be her -friends. Though we are poor yet there are many ways in which we can help -her, and I know a lady who will never let her want.” - -He thanked her with a gratitude that was pathetic. - -“I’m in a burial club,” he said, after a pause, stretching out his -nerveless fingers toward the fire; “she’ll have no expenses that way; -they’ll bury me very handsome, which’ll be a satisfaction to her, poor -girl. I’ve often thought of it when I saw a well-to-do looking funeral -pass alongside the tram, but I never thought it would come as soon as -this. I’m only going in thirty-five, which isn’t no great age for a -man.” - -“The work was too much for you,” said Frithiof. - -“Yes, sir, it’s the truth you speak, and there’s many another in the -same boat along with me. It’s a cruel hard life. But then, you see, I -was making my four-and-six a day, and if I gave up I knew it meant -starvation for the wife and the children; there is thousands out of -work, and that makes a man think twice before giving in—spite of the -long hours.” - -“And he did get six shillings a day at one time,” said the wife looking -up, “but the company’s cruel hard, sir, and just because he had a -twopence in his money and no ticket to account for its being there they -lowered him down to four-and-six again.” - -“Yes, that did seem to me hard; I’ll not deny, I swore a bit that day,” -said Hallifield. “But the company never treats us like men, it treats us -like slaves. They might have known me to be honest and careful, but it -seems as if they downright liked to catch a fellow tripping, and while -that’s so there’s many that’ll do their best to cheat.” - -“But is nothing being done to shorten the hours, to make people -understand how frightful they are?” asked Sigrid. - -“Oh, yes, miss, there’s Mrs. Reaney working with all her might for us,” -said Hallifield. “But you see folks are hard to move, and if we had only -the dozen hours a day that we ought to have and every other Sunday at -home, why, miss, they’d perhaps not get nine per cent. on their money as -they do now.” - -“They are no better than murderers!” said Frithiof hotly. - -“Well,” said Hallifield, “so it has seemed to me sometimes. But I never -set up to know much; I’ve had no time for book-learning, nor for -religion either, barely time for eating and sleeping. I don’t think God -Almighty will be hard on a fellow that has done his best to keep his -wife and children in comfort, and I’ll not complain if only He’ll just -let me sit still and do nothing for a bit, for I’m mortal tired.” - -He had been talking eagerly, and for the time his strength had returned -to him, but now his head dropped forward, and his hands clutched -convulsively at the blankets. - -With a great cry the poor wife started forward and flung her arms round -him. - -“He’s going!” she sobbed. “He’s going! John—oh, John!” - -“Nine per cent. on their money!” thought Frithiof. “My God! if they -could but see this!” - - * * * * * - -By-and-by, when he had done all that he could to help, he went back to -his own room, leaving Sigrid still with the poor widow. The scene had -made a deep impression on him; he had never before seen any one die, and -the thought of poor Hallifield’s pathetic confession that he had had no -time for anything, but the toil of living, returned to him again and -again. - -“That is a death-bed that ought not to have been,” he reflected. “It -came for the hateful struggle for wealth. Yet the shareholders are no -worse than the rest of the world, it is only that they don’t think, or, -if they do think for a time, allow themselves to be persuaded that the -complaints are exaggerated. How easily men let themselves be hoodwinked -by vague statements and comfortable assurances when they want to be -persuaded, when it is to their own interest to let things go on as -before.” - -And then, quite unable to sleep, he lay thinking of the great problems -which had so often haunted him, the sharp contrasts between too great -wealth and too great poverty, the unequal chances in life, the grinding -competition, the ineffable sadness of the world. But his thoughts were -no longer tainted by bitterness and despair, because, though he could -not see a purpose in all the great mysteries of life, yet he trusted One -who had a purpose, One who in the end must overcome all evil, and he -knew that he himself was bound to live and could live a life which -should help toward that great end. - -Three days later poor Hallifield’s “handsome funeral” set out from the -door of the model lodgings, and Frithiof, who had given up his -half-holiday to go down to the cemetery, listened to the words of the -beautiful service, thinking to himself how improbable it was that the -tram-conductor had ever had the chance of hearing St. Paul’s teaching on -the resurrection. - -Was there not something wrong in a system which should so tire out a man -that the summit of his wishes on his dying day should be but an echo of -the overworked woman whose epitaph ended with— - - “I’m going to do nothing for ever and ever”? - -How could this great evil of the overwork of the many, and the too great -leisure of the few, be set right? A socialism which should compulsorily -reduce all to one level would be worse than useless. Love of freedom was -too thoroughly ingrained in his Norse nature to tolerate that idea for a -moment. He desired certain radical reforms with his whole heart, but he -saw that they alone would not suffice—nothing but individual love, -nothing but the consciousness of individual responsibility, could really -put an end to the misery and injustice of the present system. In a word, -the only true remedy was the life of Sonship. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXII. - - -One December day another conclave was held in Mr. Boniface’s private -room. Mr. Boniface himself sat with his arm chair turned round toward -the fire, and on his pleasant, genial face there was a slight cloud, for -he much disliked the prospect of the discussion before him. Mr. Horner -stood with his back to the mantel-piece, looking even more pompous and -conceited than usual, and Roy sat at the writing-table, listening -attentively to what passed, and relieving his feelings by savagely -digging his pen into the blotting-pad to the great detriment of its -point. - -“It is high time we came to an understanding on this matter,” Mr. Horner -was saying. “Do you fully understand that when I have once said a thing -I keep to it? Either that Norwegian must go, or when the day comes for -renewing our partnership I leave this place never to re-enter it.” - -“I do not wish to have any quarrel with you about the matter,” said Mr. -Boniface. “But I shall certainly not part with Falck. To send him away -now would be most cruel and unjustifiable.” - -“It would be nothing of the sort,” retorted Mr. Horner hotly. “It would -be merely following the dictates of common-sense and fairness.” - -“This is precisely the point on which you and I do not agree,” said Mr. -Boniface with dignity. - -“It is not only his dishonesty that has set me against him,” continued -Mr. Horner. “It is his impertinent indifference, his insufferable manner -when I order him to do anything.” - -“I have never myself found him anything but a perfect gentleman,” said -Mr. Boniface. - -“Gentleman! Oh! I’ve no patience with all that tomfoolery! I want none -of your gentlemen; I want a shopman who knows his place and can answer -with proper deference.” - -“You do not understand the Norse nature,” said Roy. “Now here in the -newspaper, this very day, is a good sample of it.” He unfolded the -morning paper eagerly and read them the following lines, taking a wicked -delight in the thought of how it would strike home: - -“Their noble simplicity and freedom of manners bear witness that they -have never submitted to the yoke of a conqueror, or to the rod of a -petty feudal lord; a peasantry at once so kind-hearted, so truly humble -and religious, and yet so nobly proud, where pride is a virtue, who -resent any wanton affront to their honor or dignity. As an instance of -this, it may be mentioned that a naturalist, on finding that his hired -peasant companions had not done their work of dredging to his -satisfaction, scolded them in violent and abusive language. The men did -not seem to take the slightest notice of his scolding. ‘How can you -stand there so stupidly and apathetically, as though the matter did not -concern you?’ said he, still more irritated. ‘It is because we think, -sir, that such language is only a sign of bad breeding,’ replied an -unawed son of the mountains, whom even poverty could not strip of the -consciousness of his dignity.” - -“You insult me by reading such trash,” said Mr Horner, all the more -irritated because he knew that Roy had truth on his side, and that he -had often spoken to Frithiof abusively. “But if you like to keep this -thief in your employ—” - -“Excuse me, but I can not let that expression pass,” said Mr. Boniface. -“No one having the slightest knowledge of Frithiof Falck could believe -him guilty of dishonesty.” - -“Well, then, this lunatic with a mania for taking money that belongs to -other people—this son of a bankrupt, this designing foreigner—if you -insist on keeping him I withdraw my capital and retire. I am aware that -it is a particularly inconvenient time to withdraw money from the -business, but that is your affair. ‘As you have brewed so you must -drink.’” - -“It may put me to some slight inconvenience,” said Mr. Boniface. “But as -far as I am concerned I shall gladly submit to that rather than go -against my conscience with regard to Falck. What do you say, Roy?” - -“I am quite at one with you, father,” replied Roy, with a keen sense of -enjoyment in the thought of so quietly baffling James Horner’s malicious -schemes. - -“This designing fellow has made you both his dupes,” said Mr. Horner -furiously. “Someday you’ll repent of this and see that I was right.” - -No one replied, and, with an exclamation of impatient disgust, James -Horner took up his hat and left the room, effectually checkmated. -Frithiof, happening to glance up from his desk as the angry man strode -through the shop, received so furious a glance that he at once realized -what must have passed in the private room. It was not, however, until -closing time that he could speak alone with Roy, but the moment they -were out in the street he turned to him with an eager question. - -“What happened to Mr. Horner to-day?” - -“He heard a discourse on the Norwegian character which happened to be in -the _Daily News_, by good luck,” said Roy, smiling. “By-the-by, it will -amuse you, take it home.” - -And, drawing the folded paper from his coat-pocket, he handed it to -Frithiof. - -“He gave me such a furious glance as he passed by, that I was sure -something had annoyed him,” said Frithiof. - -“Never mind, it is the last you will have from him,” said Roy, rubbing -his hands with satisfaction. “He has vowed that he will never darken our -doors again. Think what a reign of peace will set in.” - -“He has really retired, then?” said Frithiof. “I was afraid it must be -so. I can’t stand it, Roy; I can’t let you make such a sacrifice for -me.” - -“Sacrifice! stuff and nonsense!” said Roy cheerfully. “I have not felt -so free and comfortable for an age. We shall be well rid of the old -bore.” - -“But his capital?” - -“Goes away with him,” said Roy; “it will only be a slight inconvenience; -probably he will hurt himself far more than he hurts us, and serve him -right, too. If there’s a man on earth I detest it is my worthy cousin -James Horner.” - -Frithiof naturally shared this sentiment, yet still he felt very sorry -that Mr. Horner had kept his word and left the firm, for all through the -autumn he had been hoping that he might relent and that his bark would -prove worse than his bite. The sense of being under such a deep -obligation to the Bonifaces was far from pleasant to him; however, there -seemed no help for it and he could only balance it against the great -relief of being free from James Horner’s continual provocations. - -Later in the evening, when supper was over, he went round to see Herr -Sivertsen about some fresh work, and on returning to the model lodgings -found Swanhild alone. - -“Where is Sigrid?” he asked. - -“She has gone in to see the Hallifields,” replied the little girl, -glancing up from the newspaper which she was reading. - -“You look like the picture of Mother Hubbard’s dog, that Lance is so -fond of,” he said, smiling. “Your English must be getting on, or you -wouldn’t care for the _Daily News_. Are you reading the praises of the -Norse character?” - -As he spoke he leaned over her shoulder to look at the letter which Roy -had mentioned; but Swanhild had turned to the inner sheet and was deep -in what seemed to her strangely interesting questions and answers -continued down three columns. A hurried glance at the beginning showed -Frithiof in large type the words, “The Romiaux Divorce Case.” - -He tore the paper away from her, crushed it in his hands, and threw it -straight into the fire. Swanhild looked up in sudden panic, terrified -beyond measure by his white face and flashing eyes, terrified still more -by the unnatural tone in his voice when he spoke. - -“You are never to read such things,” he said vehemently. “Do you -understand? I am your guardian and I forbid you.” - -“It was only that I wanted to know about Blanche,” said Swanhild, -conscious that, in some way she could not explain, he was unjust to her. - -But, unluckily, the mention of Blanche’s name was just the one thing -that Frithiof could not bear; he lost his self-control. “Don’t begin to -argue,” he said fiercely. “You ought to have known better than to read -that poisonous stuff! You ought to be ashamed of yourself!” - -This was more than Swanhild could endure; with a sense of intolerable -injury she left the parlor, locked herself into her bedroom, and cried -as if her heart would break, taking good care, however, to stifle her -sobs in the pillow, since she, too, had her full share of the national -pride. - -“It is ungenerous of him to hate poor Blanche so,” she thought to -herself. “Whatever she has done I shall always love her—always. And he -had no right to speak so to me, it was unfair—unfair! I didn’t know it -was wrong to read the paper. Father would never have scolded me for it.” - -And in this she was quite right; only a very inexperienced “guardian” -could have made so great a mistake as to reproach her and hold her to -blame for quite innocently touching pitch. Perhaps even Frithiof might -have been wiser had not the sudden shock and the personal pain of the -discovery thrown him off his balance. - -When Sigrid returned in a few minutes she found him pacing the room as -restlessly as any wild beast at the Zoo. - -“Frithiof,” she said, “what is the matter with you? Have you and Herr -Sivertsen had a quarrel?” - -“The matter is this” he said hoarsely, checking his restlessness with an -effort and leaning against the mantel-piece as he talked to her. “I came -back just now and found Swanhild reading the newspaper—reading the -Romiaux Divorce Case, thoroughly fascinated by it too.” - -“I had no idea it had begun,” said Sigrid. “We so seldom see an English -paper; how did this one happen to be lying about?” - -“Roy gave it to me to look at an account of Norway; I didn’t know this -was in it too. However, I gave Swanhild a scolding that she’ll not soon -forget.” - -Sigrid looked up anxiously, asking what he had said and listening with -great dissatisfaction to his reply. - -“You did very wrong indeed,” she said warmly. “You forget that Swanhild -is perfectly innocent and ignorant; you have wronged her very cruelly, -and she will feel that, though she wont understand it.” - -Now Frithiof, although he was proud and hasty, was neither ungenerous -nor conceited; as soon as he had cooled down and looked at the question -from this point of view, he saw at once that he had been wrong. - -“I will go to her and beg her pardon,” he said at length. - -“No, no, not just yet,” said Sigrid, with the feeling that men were too -clumsy for this sort of work. “Leave her to me.” - -She rapped softly at the bedroom door and after a minute’s pause heard -the key turned in the lock. When she entered the room was quite dark, -and Swanhild, with her face turned away, was vigorously washing her -hands. Sigrid began to hunt for some imaginary need in her box, waiting -till the hands were dry before she touched on the sore subject. But -presently she plunged boldly into the heart of the matter. - -“Swanhild,” she said, “you are crying.” - -“No,” said the child, driving back the tears that started again to her -eyes at this direct assertion, and struggling hard to make her voice -cheerful. - -But Sigrid put her arm round her waist and drew her close. - -“Frithiof told me all about it, and I think he made a great mistake in -scolding you. Don’t think any more about it.” - -But this was more than human nature could possibly promise; all that she -had read assumed now a tenfold importance to the child. She clung to -Sigrid, sobbing piteously. - -“He said I ought to be ashamed of myself, but I didn’t know—I really -didn’t know.” - -“That was his great mistake,” said Sigrid quietly. “Now, if he had found -me reading that report he might justly have reproached me, for I am old -enough to know better. You see, poor Blanche has done what is very -wrong, she has broken her promise to her husband and brought misery and -disgrace on all who belong to her. But to pry into all the details of -such sad stories does outsiders a great deal of harm; and now you have -been told that, I am sure you will never want to read them again.” - -This speech restored poor little Swanhild’s self-respect, but -nevertheless Sigrid noticed in her face all through the evening a look -of perplexity which made her quite wretched. And though Frithiof was all -anxiety to make up for his hasty scolding, the look still remained, nor -did it pass the next day; even the excitement of dancing the shawl dance -with all the pupils looking on did not drive it away, and Sigrid began -to fear that the affair had done the child serious harm. Her practical, -unimaginative nature could not altogether understand Swanhild’s dreamy, -pensive tendencies. She herself loved one or two people heartily, but -she had no ideals, nor was she given to hero-worship. Swanhild’s -extravagant love for Blanche, a love so ardent and devoted that it had -lasted more than two years in spite of every discouragement, was to her -utterly incomprehensible; she was vexed that the child should spend so -much on so worthless an object; it seemed to her wrong and unnatural -that the love of that pure, innocent little heart should be lavished on -such a woman as Lady Romiaux. It was impossible for her to see how even -this childish fancy was helping to mold Swanhild’s character and fit her -for her work in the world; still more impossible that she should guess -how the child’s love should influence Blanche herself and change the -whole current of many lives. - -But so it was; and while the daily life went on in its usual -grooves—Frithiof at the shop, Sigrid busy with the household work, -playing at the academy, and driving away thoughts of Roy with the cares -of other people—little Swanhild in desperation took the step which meant -so much more than she understood. - -It was Sunday afternoon. Frithiof had gone for a walk with Roy, and -Sigrid had been carried off by Madame Lechertier for a drive. Swanhild -was alone, and likely to be alone for some time to come. “It is now or -never,” she thought to herself; and opening her desk, she drew from it a -letter which she had written the day before, and read it through very -carefully. It ran as follows: - - -“DEAR SIR.—It says in your prayer-book that if any can not quiet their -conscience, but require comfort and counsel, they may come to any -discreet and learned minister and open their grief, thus avoiding all -scruple and doubtfulness. I am a Norwegian; not a member of your church, -but I have often heard you preach; and will you please let me speak to -you, for I am in a great trouble? - - “I am, sir, yours very truly, - - “SWANHILD FALCK.” - - -Feeling tolerably satisfied with this production, she inclosed it in an -envelope, directed it to “The Rev. Charles Osmond, Guilford Square,” put -on her little black fur hat and her thick jacket and fur cape, and -hurried downstairs, leaving the key with the door-keeper, and making all -speed in the direction of Bloomsbury. - -Swanhild, though in some ways childish, as is usually the case with the -youngest of the family, was in other respects a very capable little -woman. She had been treated with respect and consideration, after the -Norwegian custom; she had been consulted in the affairs of the little -home commonwealth; and of course had been obliged to go to and from -school alone every day, so she did not feel uncomfortable as she -hastened along the quiet Sunday streets; indeed, her mind was so taken -up with the thought of the coming interview that she scarcely noticed -the passers-by, and only paused once, when a little doubtful whether she -was taking the nearest way, to ask the advice of a policeman. - -At length she reached Guilford Square, and her heart began to beat fast -and her color to rise. All was very quiet here; not a soul was stirring; -a moldy-looking statue stood beneath the trees in the garden; hospitals -and institutions seemed to abound; and Mr. Osmond’s house was one of the -few private houses still left in what, eighty years ago, had been a -fashionable quarter. - -Swanhild mounted the steps, and then, overcome with shyness, very nearly -turned back and gave up her project; however, though shy she was plucky, -and making a valiant effort, she rang the bell, and waited trembling, -half with fear, half with excitement. - -The maid-servant who opened the door had such a pleasant face that she -felt a little reassured. - -“Is Mr. Osmond at home?” she asked, in her very best English accent. - -“Yes, miss,” said the servant. - -“Then will you please give him this,” said Swanhild, handing in the -neatly written letter. “And I will wait for an answer.” - -She was shown into a dining-room, and after a few minutes the servant -reappeared. - -“Mr. Osmond will see you in the study, miss,” she said. - -And Swanhild, summoning up all her courage, followed her guide, her blue -eyes very wide open, her cheeks very rosy, her whole expression so -deprecating, so pathetic, that the veriest ogre could not have found it -in his heart to be severe with her. She glanced up quickly, caught a -glimpse of a comfortable room, a blazing fire, and a tall, white-haired, -white-bearded man who stood on the hearth rug. A look of astonishment -and amusement just flitted over his face, then he came forward to meet -her, and took her hand in his so kindly that Swanhild forgot all her -fears, and at once felt at home with him. - -“I am so glad to see you,” he said, making her sit down in a big chair -by the fire. “I have read your note, and shall be very glad if I can -help you in any way. But wait a minute. Had you not better take off that -fur cape, or you will catch cold when you go out again?” - -Swanhild obediently took it off. - -“I didn’t know,” she said, “whether you heard confessions or not, but I -want to make one if you do.” - -He smiled a little, but quite kindly. - -“Well, in the ordinary sense I do not hear confessions,” he said. “That -is to say, I think the habit of coming regularly to confession is a bad -habit, weakening to the conscience and character of the one who -confesses, and liable to abuse on the part of the one who hears the -confession. But the words you quoted in your letter are words with which -I quite agree, and if you have anything weighing on your mind and think -that I can help you, I am quite ready to listen.” - -Swanhild seemed a little puzzled by the very home-like and ordinary -appearance of the study. She looked round uneasily. - -“Well?” said Charles Osmond, seeing her bewildered look. - -“I was wondering if people kneel down when they come to confession,” -said Swanhild, with a simple directness which charmed him. - -“Kneel down to talk to me!” he said, with a smile in his eyes. “Why, no, -my child; why should you do that? Sit there by the fire and get warm, -and try to make me understand clearly what is your difficulty.” - -“It is just this,” said Swanhild, now entirely at her ease. “I want to -know if it is ever right to break a promise.” - -“Certainly it is sometimes right,” said Charles Osmond. “For instance, -if you were to promise me faithfully to pick some one’s pocket on your -way home, you would be quite right to break a promise which you never -had any right to make. Or if I were to say to you, ‘On no account tell -any one at your home that you have been here talking to me,’ and you -agreed, yet such a promise would rightly be broken, because no outsider -has any right to come between you and your parents.” - -“My father and mother are dead,” said Swanhild. “I live with my brother -and sister, who are much older than I am—I mean really very old, you -know—twenty-three. They are my guardians; and what troubles me is that -last summer I did something and promised some one that I would never -tell them, and now I am afraid I ought not to have done it.” - -“What makes you think that?” - -“Well, ever since then there has seemed to be a difference at home, and, -though I thought what I did would help Frithiof and Sigrid, and make -every one happier, yet it seems to have somehow brought a cloud over the -house. They have not spoken to me about it, but ever since then Frithiof -has had such a sad look in his eyes.” - -“Was it anything wrong that you promised to do—anything that in itself -was wrong, I mean?” - -“Oh, no,” said Swanhild; “the only thing that could have made it wrong -was my doing it for this particular person.” - -“I am afraid I can not follow you unless you tell me a little more -definitely. To whom did you make this promise? To any one known to your -brother and sister?” - -“Yes, they both know her; we knew her in Norway, and she was to have -married Frithiof; but when he came over to England he found her just -going to be married to some one else. I think it was that which changed -him so very much; but perhaps it was partly because at the same time we -lost all our money.” - -“Do your brother and sister still meet this lady?” - -“Oh, no; they never see her now, and never speak of her; Sigrid is so -very angry with her because she did not treat Frithiof well. But I can’t -help loving her still, she is so very beautiful; and I think, perhaps, -she is very sorry that she was so unkind to Frithiof.” - -“How did you come across her again?” asked Charles Osmond. - -“Quite accidentally in the street, as I came home from school,” said -Swanhild. “She asked me so many questions and seemed so sorry to know -that we were so very poor, and when she asked me to do this thing for -her I only thought how kind she was, and I did it, and promised that I -would never tell.” - -“She had no right to make you promise that, for probably your brother -would not care for you still to know her, and certainly would not wish -to be under any obligation to her.” - -“No; that was the reason why it was all to be a secret,” said Swanhild. -“And I never quite understood that it was wrong till the other day, when -I was reading the newspaper about her, and Frithiof found me and was so -very angry, and threw the paper in the fire.” - -“How did the lady’s name happen to be in the paper?” - -“Sigrid said it was because she had broken her promise to her husband; -it was written in very big letters—‘The Romiaux Divorce Case,’” said -Swanhild. - -Charles Osmond started. For some minutes he was quite silent. Then, his -eyes falling once more on the wistful little face that was trying so -hard to read his thoughts, he smiled very kindly. - -“Do you know where Lady Romiaux is living?” he asked. But Swanhild had -no idea. “Well, never mind; I think I can easily find out, for I happen -to know one of the barristers who was defending her. You had better, I -think, sit down at my desk and write her just a few lines, asking her to -release you from your promise; I will take it to her at once, and if you -like you can wait here till I bring back the answer.” - -“But that will be giving you so much trouble,” said Swanhild, “and on -Sunday, too, when you have so much to do.” - -He took out his watch. - -“I shall have plenty of time,” he said, “and if I am fortunate enough to -find Lady Romiaux, you shall soon get rid of your trouble.” - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIII. - - -Having established Swanhild at the writing-table, Charles Osmond left -her for a few minutes and went up to the drawing-room; it was one of -those comfortable, old-fashioned rooms which one seldom sees now, and -resting on the sofa was one of those old-world ladies whose sweet -graciousness has such a charm to the more restless end of the nineteenth -century. No less than four generations were represented in the room, for -by the fire sat Charles Osmond’s daughter-in-law, and on her knee was -her baby son—the delight of the whole house. - -“Erica,” he said, coming toward the hearth, “strangely enough the very -opportunity I wanted has come. I have been asked to see Lady Romiaux on -a matter connected with some one who once knew her, so you see it is -possible that after all your wish may come true, and I may be of some -use to her.” - -Erica looked up eagerly, her face which in repose was sad, brightened -wonderfully. - -“How glad I am, father! You know Donovan always said there was so much -that was really good in her, if only some one could draw it out.” - -“How did the case end?” asked Mrs. Osmond. - -“It ended in a disagreement of the jury,” replied her son, “Why, I can’t -understand, for the evidence was utterly against her, according to -Ferguson. I am just going round to see him now, and find out her address -from him, and in the mean time there’s a dear little Norwegian girl in -my study, who will wait till I bring back an answer. Would you like her -to come up here?” - -“Yes, yes,” said Erica, “by all means let us have her if she can talk -English. Rae is waking up, you see, and we will come down and fetch -her.” - -Swanhild had just finished her letter when the door of the study opened, -and looking up she saw Charles Osmond once more, and beside him a lady -who seemed to her more lovely than Blanche; she was a good deal older -than Lady Romiaux and less strikingly beautiful, but there was something -in her creamy-white coloring and short auburn hair, something in the -mingled sadness and sweetness of her face that took Swanhild’s heart by -storm. - -“This is my daughter-in-law, Mrs. Brian Osmond, and this is my -grandson,” said Charles Osmond, allowing Rae’s tiny fingers to play with -his long white beard. - -“Will you come upstairs and stay with us till Mr. Osmond comes back?” -said Erica, shaking hands with her, and wondering not a little what -connection there could be between this fair-haired, innocent little -Norse girl and Lady Romiaux. And then seeing that Swanhild was shy she -kept her hand in hers and led her up to the drawing-room, where, with -the baby to play with, she was soon perfectly happy, and chattering away -fast enough to the great amusement of old Mrs. Osmond, who heard the -whole story of the model lodgings, of the dancing classes, and of the -old home in Norway. - -In the mean while Charles Osmond had reached his friend’s chambers, and -to his great satisfaction found him in. - -“As far as I know,” replied Mr. Ferguson, “Lady Romiaux is still in -lodgings in George Street.” He drew a card from his pocket-book and -handed it to the clergyman. “That’s the number; and to my certain -knowledge she was there yesterday. Her father wont have anything to do -with her.” - -“Poor child!” said Charles Osmond, half to himself, “I wonder what will -become of her?” - -Mr. Ferguson shrugged his shoulders. - -“Well, she’s brought it all on herself,” he said. “There is no doubt -whatever that she is guilty, and how the jury disagreed I’m sure I don’t -know.” - -Charles Osmond did not stay to discuss the matter, but made the best of -his way to George Street, and sent in his card with a request that Lady -Romiaux would, if possible, see him on a matter of business. - -In a minute or two he was ushered into a drawing-room, which had the -comfortless air of most lodging-house rooms; standing on the hearthrug -was a young, delicate-looking girl; for a moment he did not recognize -her as the Lady Romiaux whose portraits were so well known, for trouble -had sadly spoiled her beauty, and her eyelids were red and swollen, -either with want of sleep or with many tears. - -She bowed, then meeting his kindly eyes, the first eyes she had seen for -so long which did not stare at her in hateful curiosity, or glance at -her with shrinking disapproval, she came quickly forward and put her -hand in his. - -“For what reason can you have come?” she exclaimed; “you of all men.” - -He was struck with the wild look in her great dark eyes, and intuitively -knew that other work than the delivery of little Swanhild’s letter -awaited him here. - -“Why do you say, ‘Of all men’ in that tone?” he asked. - -“Because you are one of the very few men who ever made me wish to do -right,” she said quickly. “Because I used sometimes to come to your -church—till—till I did not dare to come, because what you said made me -so miserable!” - -“My poor child,” he said; “there are worse things than to be miserable; -you are miserable now, but your very misery may lead you to peace.” - -“No, no,” she sobbed, sinking down on the sofa and hiding her face in -her hands. “My life is over—there is nothing left for me. And yet,” she -cried, lifting her head and turning her wild eyes toward him, “yet I -have not the courage to die, even though my life is a misery to me and a -snare to every one I come across.” - -“Are you alone here?” he asked. - -“Yes; my father and mother will have nothing to say to me—and there is -no one else—I mean no one else that I would have.” - -He breathed more freely. - -“You must not say your life is over,” he replied. “Your life in society -is over, it is true, but there is something much better than that which -you may now begin. Be sure that if you wish to do right it is still -possible for you.” - -“Ah, but I can’t trust myself.” she sobbed. “It will be so very -difficult all alone.” - -“Leave that for God to arrange,” he said. “Your part is to trust to Him -and try your best to do right. Tell me, do you not know my friend -Donovan Farrant, the member for Greyshot?” - -She brushed the tears from her eyes and looked up more quietly. - -“I met him once at a country house in Mountshire,” she said, “He and his -wife were there just for two days, and they were so good to me. I think -he guessed that I was in danger then, for one day he walked with me in -the grounds, and he spoke to me as no one had ever spoken before. He saw -that my husband and I had quarreled, and he saw that I was flirting out -of spite with—with—well, no matter! But he spoke straight out, so that -if it hadn’t been for his wonderful tact and goodness I should have been -furious with him. And he told me how the thing that had saved him all -through his life was the influence of good women; and just for a few -days I did want to be good, and to use my power rightly. But the -Farrants went away, and I vexed my husband again and we had another -quarrel, and when he was gone down to speak at Colonel Adair’s election, -I went to stay, against his wish, at Belcroft Park; and when I had done -that, it seemed as if I were running right down a steep hill and really -couldn’t stop myself.” - -“But now,” said Charles Osmond, “you must begin to climb the hill once -more. You must be wondering through all this time what was the errand -that brought me here. I brought you this letter from a little Norwegian -girl—Swanhild Falck. In the midst of your great trouble I dare say her -trouble will seem very trifling, still I hope you will be able to -release her from her promise, for it is evidently weighing on her mind.” - -“That’s another instance of the harm I do wherever I go,” said poor -Blanche, reading the letter, “and in this case I was really trying to -undo the past, very foolishly as I see now. Tell Swanhild that she is -quite free from her promise, and that if it has done harm I am sorry. -But I always do harm! Do you remember that story of Nathaniel -Hawthorne’s about the daughter of the botanist, who was brought up on -the juices of a beautiful poison-plant, and who poisoned with her breath -every one that came near her? I think I am like that.” - -“I remember it,” he replied. “A weird, unwholesome story. But if I -remember right, the heroine died herself rather than poison others.” - -“Yes, and that is what I wish to do,” she said, with once more that look -in her eyes which had startled him. “But I am a coward; I haven’t the -courage.” - -“Wait,” he said gravely: “there is a real truth in your idea, but do not -set about it in a wrong way. To seek physical death would only be to -take another wrong step. It is not you, but your selfishness that must -die.” - -“But if I were not what you would call selfish, if I did not love to -attract men and make them do just what I please, if I did not enjoy the -feeling that they are in love with me, I should no longer be myself,” -she said. - -“You would no longer be your false self,” he replied. “You would be your -true self. Do you think God made you beautiful that you might be a snare -in the world? He made you to be a joy and a blessing, and you have -abused one of his best gifts.” - -She began to cry again, to sob piteously, almost like a child. - -Charles Osmond spoke once more, and there was a great tenderness in his -voice. - -“You have found now that self-pleasing brings misery to yourself and -every one else. I know you wish to do right, but you must do more than -that; you must resolutely give your body, soul, and spirit to God, -desiring only to do his will.” - -She looked up once more, speaking with the vehemence of despair. - -“Oh,” she said, “it seems all real now while I talk to you, but I know -it will fade away, and the temptations will be much more strong. You -don’t know what the world is—you are good, and you have no time to see -with your own eyes how, underneath all that is so respectable, it is -hollow and wicked.” - -“It will be your own fault if you are not stronger than the temptations -with which God allows you to be assailed,” he said. “You loathe and fear -evil, and that is a step in the right direction, but now you must turn -right away from it, and learn to look at purity, and goodness, and love. -Don’t believe that vice is to conquer—that is the devil’s lie. The -strength of the Infinite the love of the All-Father will conquer—and -that love and that strength are for you.” - -“What!” sobbed Blanche, “for a woman who has dishonored her name—a woman -cast out of society?” - -Charles Osmond took her hand in his strong, firm clasp. - -“Yes, my child,” he said, “they are for you.” - -There was a long silence. - -“And now,” he said, at length, “unless you have any other friends to -whom you would rather go, I am going to ask you to come home with me. I -can promise you at least rest and shelter, and a welcome from my dear -old mother, who, being very near to the other world, does not judge -people after the custom of this one.” - -“But,” she said, with a look of mingled relief and perplexity, “how can -I let you do so much for a mere stranger? Oh, I should like to -come—but—but—” - -“You are no longer a stranger,” he replied, “And you must not refuse me -this. You shall see no one at all if you prefer it. Ours is a busy -house, but in some ways it is the quietest house in London. My son and -his wife live with us. They, too, will be so glad if we can be of any -use to you. Come, I can not leave you here in this loneliness.” - -“Do you mean that I am to come now?” she said, starting up. - -“Yes, if you will,” he replied. “But I will go and call a hansom; and -since I am in rather a hurry, perhaps you will let your maid follow with -your things later on in the evening.” - -So in a few minutes they were driving together to Guilford Square, and -Blanche was transplanted from her miserable loneliness into the heart of -one of the happiest homes in the country. Leaving her in the study, -Charles Osmond went in search of Swanhild. - -“It is all right,” he said, handing her a little note in Blanche’s -writing; and while the child eagerly read it he turned to his -daughter-in-law. - -“Will you tell them to get the spare room ready, Erica, dear?” he said. -“I have persuaded Lady Romiaux to stay with us for a little while.” - -Swanhild caught the words, and longed to ask to see Blanche, but she -remembered that Sigrid would not like it; and then, with a sudden -recollection that the afternoon was almost over, and that she must go -home, she thanked Charles Osmond, reluctantly parted with the baby, -kissed old Mrs. Osmond and Erica, who made her promise to come and see -them again, and hurried back to the model lodgings. - -Her happiness and relief, and the pleasurable excitement of having -learned to know a new and delightful family, were slightly clouded by -the uncomfortable thought of the confession that lay before her. What -would Frithiof and Sigrid say to her? And how should she put into words -the story of what she more and more felt to have been a wrong and -foolish, and very childish scheme of help? - -“Oh, how I wish it were over!” she thought, to herself, as she marched -on to her disagreeable work like a little Trojan. Big Ben was striking -five as she crossed the court-yard. She had been away from home more -than two hours. She hurried on to the porter’s office, and asked -breathlessly for the key. - -“Mr. Falck took it ten minutes ago,” said the man. - -And Swanhild turned away with a sigh and a little shiver, and began very -slowly to mount the stone stairs. - -“Oh! what will he say to me?” she thought, as she clasped Blanche’s note -fast in her little cold hands. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIV. - - -Although she had climbed the stairs so slowly, poor Swanhild was still -out of breath when she reached the door leading into the little parlor; -she paused a moment to recover herself, and, hearing voices within, -became a degree more miserable, for she had counted upon finding -Frithiof alone. Clearly Sigrid must also have returned, and, indeed, -things were even worse than that, for as she opened the door and emerged -round the Japanese screen she saw Roy standing by the fire; for this she -had been utterly unprepared, and, indeed, it was very seldom that he -came now to the model lodgings. - -“At last!” exclaimed Frithiof, “why, Swanhild, where on earth have you -been to? We were just thinking of having you cried.” - -“We were preparing an advertisement to appear in all the papers -to-morrow morning,” said Roy, laughing, “and were just trying to agree -as to the description; you’ll hardly believe me, but your guardian -hadn’t the least notion what color your eyes are.” - -Frithiof drew her toward him, smiling. - -“Let me see now in case she is ever lost again,” he said, but noticing a -suspicious moisture in the blue eyes he no longer teased her, but made -her sit down on his knee and drew off her gloves. - -“What is the matter, dear?” he said, “you look cold and tired; where -have you been to?” - -“I have been to see Mr. Osmond,” said Swanhild, “you know we often go to -his church, Sigrid and I, and there was something I wanted to ask him -about. Last summer I made a promise which I think was wrong, and I -wanted to know whether I might break it.” - -“What did he say?” asked Frithiof, while Sigrid and Roy listened in -silent astonishment. - -“He said that a wrong promise ought to be broken, and he managed to get -me leave to speak from the person to whom I made the promise. And now I -am going to tell you about it.” - -Frithiof could feel how the poor little thing was trembling. - -“Don’t be frightened, darling,” he said, “just tell us everything and no -one shall interrupt you.” - -She gave his hand a grateful little squeeze and went on. - -“It happened just after we had come back from the sea last June. I was -coming home from school on Saturday morning when, just outside the -court-yard, I met Lady Romiaux. Just for a moment I did not know her, -but she knew me directly, and stopped me and said how she had met you -and Sigrid at a party and had ever since been so miserable to think that -we were so poor, and somehow she had found out our address, and wanted -to know all about us, only when she actually got to the door she did not -like to come in. And she said she was so glad to see me, and asked all -sorts of questions, and when she heard that you meant to pay off the -debts she looked so sad, and she said that the bankruptcy was all her -fault, and she asked how much I thought you had got toward it, and -seemed quite horrified to think what a little it was, and what years the -work would take. And then she said to me that she wanted to help, too, -just a little, only that you must never know, and she thought I could -easily pay in a five-pound note to your account at the bank, she said, -without your knowing anything about it. She made me promise to do it -secretly, and never to tell that it was from her. You can’t think how -kindly she said it all, and how dreadfully sad she looked—I don’t think -I could possibly have said ‘no’ to her. But afterward I began to see -that I couldn’t very well pay the note into your account at the -post-office, for I hadn’t got your little book that you always take, and -besides I didn’t know which office you went to. So I worried about it -all the next day, which was Sunday, and in the evening at church it -suddenly came into my head that I would put it with your other money -inside your waistcoat pocket.” Roy made an involuntary movement, Sigrid -drew a little nearer, but Frithiof never stirred. Swanhild continued: - -“So the next morning, when I went into your bedroom to wake you up, I -slipped the note into your pocket, and then I thought, just supposing -you were to lose it, it seemed so light and so thin, and I pinned it to -the lining to make it quite safe. You were sleeping very soundly, and -were quite hard to wake up. At first I felt pretty happy about it, and I -thought if you asked me if I had put it there when you found it out I -should be able to say ‘yes’ and yet to keep Blanche’s secret. But you -never said a word about it, and I was sure something had troubled you -very much, and I was afraid it must be that, yet dared not speak about -it and I tried to find out from Sigrid, but she only said that you had -many troubles which I was too young to understand. It often made me very -unhappy, but I never quite understood that I had done wrong till the -night you found me reading the paper, and then I thought that I ought -not to have made the promise to Lady Romiaux. This is the note which Mr. -Osmond brought me from her.” - -Frithiof took the little crumpled sheet and read it. - - -“DEAR SWANHILD: You are quite free to speak about that five-pound note, -I never ought to have made you promise secrecy, and indeed, gave the -money just by a sudden impulse. It was a foolish thing to do, as I see -now, but I meant it well. I hope you will all forgive me. Yours -affectionately, - - “BLANCHE.” - - -Then Roy and Sigrid read the note together, and Roy grasped Frithiof’s -hand. - -“Will you ever forgive me?” he said. “Cecil was right, and I ought to -have known that this miserable affair would one day be explained.” - -Frithiof still looked half-stunned, he could not realize that the cloud -had at last dispersed, he was so taken up with the thought of the -extraordinary explanation of the mystery—of the childish, silly, little -plan that had brought about such strange results. - -“Oh, Swanhild!” cried Sigrid, “if only you had spoken sooner how much -pain might have been saved.” - -“Don’t say that,” said Frithiof, rousing himself, “she has chosen the -right time, depend upon it. I can hardly believe it at all yet. But, oh! -to think of having one’s honor once more unstained—and this death in -life over!” - -“What do you mean? What do you mean?” sobbed poor little Swanhild, -utterly perplexed by the way in which her confession had been received. - -“Tell her,” said Sigrid, glancing at Roy. - -So he told her exactly what had happened in the shop on that Monday in -June. - -“We kept it from you,” said Frithiof, “because I liked to feel that -there was at any rate one person unharmed by my disgrace, and because -you seemed so young to be troubled with such things.” - -“But how can it have happened?” said Swanhild; “who took the note really -from the till?” - -“It must have been Darnell,” said Roy. “He was present when Sardoni got -the change, he saw James Horner put away the note, he must have managed -during the time that you two were alone in the shop to take it out, and -no doubt if he had been searched first the other five-pound note would -have been found on him. What a blackguard the man must be to have let -you suffer for him! I’ll have the truth out of him before I’m a day -older.” - -“Oh! Frithiof, Frithiof! I’m so dreadfully sorry,” sobbed poor Swanhild. -“I thought it would have helped you, and it has done nothing but harm.” - -But Frithiof stooped down and silenced her with a kiss “You see the harm -it has done,” he said, “but you don’t see the good. Come, stop crying, -and let us have tea, for your news has given me an appetite, and I’m -sure you are tired and hungry after all this.” - -“But could it ever have entered any one’s head that such an improbable -thing should actually happen?” said Roy, as he mused over the story. “To -think that Sardoni should get change for his note, and Darnell steal it -on the very day that Swanhild had given you that unlucky contribution to -the debt-fund!” - -“It is just one of those extraordinary coincidences which do happen in -life,” said Sigrid. “I believe if every one could be induced to tell all -the strange things of the kind that had happened we should see that they -are after all pretty common things.” - -“I wonder if there is a train to Plymouth to-night?” said Roy. “I shall -not rest till I have seen Darnell. For nothing less than his confession -signed and sealed will satisfy James Horner. Do you happen to have a -Bradshaw?” - -“No, but we have something better,” said Sigrid, smiling; “on the next -landing there is Owen, one of the Great Western guards. I know he is at -home, for I passed him just now on the stairs, and he will tell you -about the trains.” - -“What a thing it is to live in model lodgings!” said Roy, smiling. “You -seem to me to keep all the professions on the premises. Come, Frithiof, -do go and interview this guard and ask him how soon I can get down to -Plymouth and back again.” - -Frithiof went out, there was still a strange look of abstraction in his -face. “I scarcely realized before how much he had felt this,” said Roy. -“What a fool I was to be so positive that my own view of the case was -right! Looking at it from my own point of view I couldn’t realize how -humiliating it must all have been to him—how exasperating to know that -you were in the right yet not to be able to convince any one.” - -“It has been like a great weight on him all through the autumn,” said -Sigrid, “and yet I know what he meant when he told Swanhild, that it had -done him good as well as harm. Don’t you remember how at one time he -cared for nothing but clearing off the debts? Well, now, though he works -hard at that, yet he cares for other people’s troubles too—that is no -longer his one idea.” - -And then because she knew that Roy was thinking of the hope that this -change had brought into their lives, and because her cheeks grew -provokingly hot, she talked fast and continuously, afraid to face her -own thoughts, yet all the time conscious of such happiness as she had -not known for many months. - -Before long Frithiof returned. - -“I don’t think you can do it,” he said. “Owen tells me there is a train -from Paddington at 9.50 this evening, but it isn’t a direct one and you -wont get to Plymouth till 9.28 to-morrow morning. A most unconscionable -time, you see.” - -“Why not write to Darnell?” suggested Sigrid. - -“No, no, he would get out of it in some mean way. I intend to pounce on -him unexpectedly, and in that way to get at the truth,” replied Roy. -“This train will do very well. I shall sleep on the way, but I must just -go to Regent Street and get the fellow’s address.” - -This, however, Frithiof was able to tell him, and they lingered long -over the tea-table, till at length Roy remembered that it might be as -well to see his father and let him know what had happened before -starting for Devonshire. Very reluctantly he left the little parlor, but -he took away with him the grateful pressure of Sigrid’s hand, the sweet, -bright glance of her blue eyes, and the echo of her last words, spoken -softly and sweetly in her native language. - -“_Farvel! Tak skal De have._” (Farewell! Thanks you shall have.) Why had -she spoken to him in Norse? Was it perhaps because she wished him to -feel that he was no foreigner, but one of themselves? Whatever her -reason, it touched him and pleased him that she had spoken just in that -way, and it was with a very light heart that he made his way to Rowan -Tree House. - -The lamp was not lighted in the drawing-room, but there was a blazing -fire, and on the hearth-rug sat Cecil with Lance nestled close to her, -listening with all his ears to one of the hero stories which she always -told him on Sunday evenings. - -“Has father gone to chapel?” asked Roy. - -“Yes, some time ago,” replied Cecil. “Is anything the matter?” - -Something told her that Roy’s unexpected appearance was connected with -Frithiof, and, accustomed always to fear for him, her heart almost stood -still. - -“Don’t look so frightened,” said Roy, as the firelight showed him her -dilated eyes. “Nothing is the matter—I have brought home some very good -news. Frithiof is cleared, and that wretched business of the five-pound -note fully explained.” - -“At last!” she exclaimed. “What a relief! But how? Do tell me all.” - -He repeated Swanhild’s story, and then, hoping to catch his father in -the vestry before the service began, he hurried off, leaving Cecil to -the only companionship she could have borne in her great happiness—that -of little Lance. - -But Roy found himself too late to catch his father, there was nothing -for it but to wait, and, anxious to speak to him at the earliest -opportunity, he made his way into the chapel that he might get hold of -him when the service was over, for otherwise there was no saying how -long he might not linger talking with the other deacons, who invariably -wanted to ask his advice about a hundred and one things. - -He was at this moment giving out the hymn, and Roy liked to hear him do -this once more; it carried him back to his boyhood—to the times when -there had been no difference of opinion between them. He sighed just a -little, for there is a sadness in all division because it reminds us -that we are still in the days of school-time, that life is as yet -imperfect, and that by different ways, not as we should wish all in the -same way, we are being trained and fitted for a perfect unity elsewhere. - -Mr. Boniface was one of those men who are everywhere the same; he -carried his own atmosphere about with him, and sitting now in the -deacon’s seat beneath the pulpit he looked precisely as he did in his -home or in his shop. It was the same quiet dignity, that was noticeable -in him, the same kindly spirit, the same delightful freedom from all -self-importance. One could hardly look at him without remembering the -fine old saying, “A Christian is God Almighty’s gentleman.” - -When, by and by, he listened to Roy’s story, told graphically enough as -they walked home together, his regret for having misjudged Frithiof was -unbounded. He was almost as impatient to get hold of Darnell as his son -was. - -“Still,” he observed, “you will not gain much by going to-night, why not -start to-morrow by the first train?” - -“If I go now,” said Roy, “I shall be home quite early to-morrow evening, -and Tuesday is Christmas eve—a wretched day for traveling. Besides, I -can’t wait.” - -Both father and mother knew well enough that it was the thought of -Sigrid that had lent him wings, and Mr. Boniface said no more, only -stipulating that he should be just and generous to the offender. - -“Don’t visit your own annoyance on him, and don’t speak too hotly,” he -said. “Promise him that he shall not be prosecuted or robbed of his -character if only he will make full confession, and see what it was that -led him to do such a thing, I can’t at all understand it. He always -seemed to me a most steady, respectable man.” - -Roy being young and having suffered severely himself through Darnell’s -wrong-doing, felt anything but judicial as he traveled westward on that -cold December night; he vowed that horsewhipping would be too good for -such a scoundrel, and rehearsed interviews in which his attack was -brilliant and Darnell’s defense most feeble. Then he dozed a little, -dreamed of Sigrid, woke cold and depressed to find that he must change -carriages at Bristol, and finally after many vicissitudes was landed at -Plymouth at half-past nine on a damp and cheerless winter morning. - -Now that he was actually there he began to dislike the thought of the -work before him, and to doubt whether after all his attack would be as -brilliant in reality as in imagination. Rather dismally he made a hasty -breakfast and then set off through the wet, dingy streets to the shop -where Darnell was at present employed. To his relief he found that it -was not a very large one, and, on entering, discovered the man he -sought, behind the counter and quite alone. As he approached him he -watched his face keenly; Darnell was a rather good-looking man, dark, -pale, eminently respectable; he looked up civilly at the supposed -customer,—then, catching sight of Roy, he turned a shade paler and gave -an involuntary start of surprise. - -“Mr. Robert!” he stammered. - -“Yes, Darnell; I see you know what I have come for,” said Roy quietly. -“It was certainly a very strange, a most extraordinary coincidence that -Mr. Falck should, unknown to himself, have had another five-pound note -in his pocket that day last June, but it has been fully explained. Now I -want your explanation.” - -“Sir!” gasped Darnell; “I don’t understand you; I—I am at a loss—” - -“Come, don’t tell any more lies about it,” said Roy impatiently. “We -knew now that you must have taken it, for no one else was present. Only -confess the truth and you shall not be prosecuted; you shall not lose -your situation here. What induced you to do it?” - -“Don’t be hard on me, sir,” stammered the man. “I assure you I’ve -bitterly regretted it many a time.” - -“Then why did you not make a clean breast of it to my father?” said Roy. -“You might have known that he would never be hard on you.” - -“I wish I had,” said Darnell, in great distress; “I wish to God I had, -sir, for it’s been a miserable business from first to last. But I was in -debt, and there was nothing but ruin before me, and I thought of my wife -who was ill, and I knew that the disgrace would kill her.” - -“So you went and disgraced yourself still more,” said Roy hotly. “You -tried to ruin another man instead of yourself.” - -“But he wasn’t turned off,” said Darnell. “And they put it all on his -illness, and it seemed as if, after all, it would not hurt him so much. -It was a great temptation, and when I had once given way to it there -seemed no turning back.” - -“Tell me just how you took it,” said Roy, getting rather more calm and -judicial in his manner. - -“I saw Mr. Horner give Signor Sardoni the change, sir, and I saw him put -the note in the till; and I was just desperate with being in debt and -not knowing how to get straight again.” - -“But wait a minute—how had you got into such difficulties?” interrupted -Roy. “And how could a five-pound note help you out again?” - -“Well, sir, I had been unlucky in a betting transaction, but I thought I -could right myself if only I could get something to try again with; but -there wasn’t a soul I could borrow from. I thought I should get straight -again at once if only I had five pounds in hand, and so I did, sir; I -was on my feet again the very next day.” - -“I might have known it was betting that had ruined you,” said Roy. “Now -go back and tell me when you took the note.” - -“I kept on thinking and planning through the afternoon, sir, and then, -presently, all was quiet, and only Mr. Falck with me in the shop, and I -was just wondering how to get rid of him, when Mr. Horner opened the -door of Mr. Boniface’s room and called to me. Then I said, ‘Do go, Mr. -Falck, for I have an order to write to catch the post.’ And he went for -me, and I hurried across to his counter while he was gone, and took the -note out of his till and put it inside my boot; and when he came back he -found me writing at my desk just as he had left me. He came up looking a -little put out, as if Mr. Horner had rubbed him the wrong way, and he -says to me, ‘It’s no use; you must go yourself, after all.’ So I went to -Mr. Horner, leaving Mr. Falck alone in the shop.” - -“Were you not afraid lest he should open the till and find out that the -note was gone?” - -“Yes, I was very much afraid. But all went well, and I intended to go -out quickly at tea-time—it was close upon it then—and do what I could to -get it straight again. I thought I could invent an excuse for not -returning to the shop that night; say I’d been taken suddenly ill or -something of that sort. It was Mr. Falck’s turn to go first; and while -he was out, as ill-luck would have it, Mr. Horner came to take change -from the till, and then all the row began. I made sure I was ruined, and -no one was more surprised than myself at the turn that affairs took.” - -“But,” exclaimed Roy, “when you were once more out of debt, how was it -that you did not confess, and do what you could to make up for your -shameful conduct?” - -“Well, sir, I hadn’t the courage. Sometimes I thought I would; and then, -again, I couldn’t make up my mind to; and I got to hate Mr. Falck, and I -hated him more because he behaved well about it; and I got into the way -of spiting him and making the place disagreeable to him; and I hoped -that he would leave. But he stuck to his post through it all; and I -began to think that it would be safer that I should leave, for I felt -afraid of him somehow. So at Michaelmas I took this situation. And oh! -sir, for my wife’s sake don’t ruin me; don’t expose all this to my -employer!” - -“I promised you just now that you should not be exposed; but you must -write a few words of confession to my father; and be quick about it, for -I want to catch the express to London.” - -Darnell, who was still pale and agitated, seized pen and paper, and -wrote a few words of apology and a clear confession. To write was hard, -but he was in such terror lest his employers should return and discover -his miserable secret that he dared not hesitate—dared not beat about the -bush. - -Roy watched him with some curiosity, wondering now that he had not -suspected the man sooner. But, as a matter of fact, Darnell had been -perfectly self-possessed until his guilt was discovered; it was the -exposure that filled him with shame and confusion, not the actual -dishonesty. - -“I don’t know how to thank you enough, sir, for your leniency,” he said, -when he had written, in as few words as possible, the statement of the -facts. - -“Well, just let the affair be a lesson to you,” said Roy. “There’s a -great deal said about drunkenness being the national sin, but I believe -it is betting that is at the root of half the evils of the day. -Fortunately, things are now set straight as far as may be, yet remember -that you have wronged and perhaps irrevocably injured a perfectly -innocent man.” - -“I bitterly regret it, sir; I do, indeed,” said Darnell. - -“I hope you do,” said Roy; “I am sure you ought to.” - -And while Darnell still reiterated thanks, and apologies, and abject -regrets, Roy stalked out of the shop and made his way back to the -station. - -“To think that I believed in that cur, and doubted Falck!” he said to -himself with disgust. “And yet, could any one have seemed more -respectable than Darnell? more thoroughly trustworthy? And how could I -disbelieve the evidence that was so dead against Frithiof? Sigrid and -Cecil trusted him, and I ought to have done so too, I suppose; but women -seem to me to have a faculty for that sort of thing which we are quite -without.” - -Then, after a time, he remembered that the last barrier that parted him -from Sigrid was broken down; and it was just as well that he had the -railway carriage to himself, for he began to sing so jubilantly that the -people in the next compartment took him for a school-boy returning for -his Christmas holidays. - -It had been arranged that if he could catch the express from Plymouth he -should meet his father at the shop, and arriving at Paddington at -half-past six he sprang into a hansom and drove as quickly as possible -to Regent Street. - -Frithiof just glanced at him inquiringly as he passed through the shop, -then, reassured by the expression of his face, turned once more to the -fidgety and impatient singing-master who, for the last quarter of an -hour, had been keeping him hard at work in hunting up every conceivable -song that was difficult to find, and which, when found, was sure to -prove unsatisfactory. - -He wondered much what had passed at Plymouth, and when at last he had -got rid of his customer, Roy returned to the shop with such evident -excitement and triumph in his manner that old Foster thought he must be -taking leave of his senses. - -“My father wants to speak to you, Frithiof,” he said. - -And Frithiof followed him into the little inner room which had been the -scene of such disagreeable interviews in the past. A strange, dreamlike -feeling came over him as he recalled the wretched summer day when the -detective had searched him, and in horrible, bewildered misery he had -seen the five-pound note, lying on that same leather-covered table, an -inexplicable mystery and a damning evidence against him. - -But visions of the past faded as Mr. Boniface grasped his hand. “How can -I ever apologize enough to you, Frithiof!” he said. “Roy has brought -back a full confession from Darnell, and the mystery is entirely cleared -up. You must forgive me for the explanation of the affair that I was -content with last summer—I can’t tell you how I regret all that you have -had to suffer.” - -“Here is Darnell’s letter,” said Roy, handing it to him. - -And Frithiof read it eagerly, and asked the details of his friend’s -visit to Plymouth. - -“Will this satisfy Mr. Horner, do you think?” he said, when Roy had told -him all about his interview with Darnell. - -“It cannot fail to convince every one,” said Mr. Boniface. “It is proof -positive that you are free from all blame and that we owe you every -possible apology and reparation.” - -“You think that Mr. Horner will be content, and will really sign the -fresh deed of partnership?” said Frithiof. - -“He will be forced to see that your honor is entirely vindicated,” said -Mr. Boniface. “But I shall not renew the offer of partnership to him. He -has behaved very ill to you, he has been insolent to me, and I am glad -that, as far as business goes, our connection is at an end. All that is -quite settled. And now we have a proposal to make to you. We want you, -if nothing better has turned up, to accept a junior partnership in our -firm.” - -Frithiof was so staggered by the unexpectedness of this offer that for a -moment or two he could not say a word. - -“You are very good,” he said at length. “Far, far too good and kind to -me. But how can I let you do so much for me—how can I let you take as -partner a man who has no capital to bring into the business?” - -“My dear boy, money is not the only thing wanted in business,” said Mr. -Boniface, laying his hand on Frithiof’s shoulder. “If you bring no -capital with you bring good abilities, a great capacity for hard work, -and a high sense of honor; and you will bring too, what I value very -much—a keen sympathy with those employed by you, and a real knowledge of -their position and its difficulties.” - -“I dare not refuse your offer,” said Frithiof. “I can’t do anything but -gratefully accept it, but I have done nothing to deserve such kindness -from you.” - -“It will be a comfort to me,” said Mr. Boniface, “to feel that Roy has -some one with whom he can work comfortably. I am growing old, and shall -not be sorry to do a little less, and to put some of my burden on to -younger shoulders.” - -And then, after entering a little more into detail as to the proposed -plan, the three parted, and Frithiof hurried home eager to tell Sigrid -and Swanhild of the great change that had some over their affairs. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXV. - - -Cheerfulness reigned once more in the model lodgings. As Frithiof opened -the door of the parlor he heard such talking and laughter as there had -not been for some time past, despite Sigrid’s laudable endeavors. -Swanhild came dancing to meet him. - -“Look! look!” she cried, “we have got the very dearest little Christmas -tree that ever was seen. And Madame Lechertier has promised to come to -tea to-morrow afternoon, and we are going out presently to buy the -candles for it.” - -“Unheard-of extravagance,” he said, looking at the little fir tree upon -which Sigrid was fastening the candle-holders. - -“Only a shilling,” she said apologetically. “And this year we really -couldn’t do without one. But you have brought some good news—I can see -it in your face. Oh, tell me, Frithiof—tell me quickly just what -happened.” - -“Well, Darnell has made a full confession for one thing,” he replied. -“So the last vestige of the cloud has disappeared. You can’t think how -nice the other men were when they heard about it. Old Foster gave me -such a hand-shake that my arm aches still.” - -“And Mr. Boniface?” - -“You can fancy just what he would be as far as kindness and all that -goes. But you will never guess what he has done. How would you like to -count our savings toward the debt-fund by hundreds instead of by units?” - -“What do you mean?” she cried. - -“I mean that he has offered me the junior partnership,” said Frithiof, -watching her face with keen delight, and rewarded for all he had been -through by her rapture of happiness and her glad surprise. - -As for Swanhild, in the reaction after the long strain of secret anxiety -which had tried her so much all the autumn, she was like a wild thing; -she laughed and sang, danced and chattered, and would certainly never -have eaten any supper had she not set her heart on going out to buy -Christmas presents at a certain shop in Buckingham Palace Road, which -she was sure would still be open. - -“For it is just the sort of shop for people like us,” she explained, -“people who are busy all day and can only do their shopping in the -evening.” - -So presently they locked up the rooms and all three went out together on -the merriest shopping expedition that ever was known. There was a -feeling of Yule-tide in the very air, and the contentment and relief in -their own hearts seemed to be reflected on every one with whom they came -in contact. The shops seemed more enticing than usual, the presents more -fascinating, the servers more obliging and ready to enter into the -spirit of the thing. Swanhild, with five shillings of her own earning to -lay out on Christmas gifts, was in the seventh heaven of happiness; -Sigrid, with her own secret now once more a joy and not a care, moved -like one in a happy dream; while Frithiof, free from the miserable cloud -of suspicion, freed, moreover, by all that he had lived through from the -hopelessness of the struggle, was the most perfectly happy of all. -Sometimes he forced himself to remember that it was through these very -streets that he had wandered in utter misery when he first came to -London; and recollecting from what depths Sigrid had saved him, he -thought of her with a new and strange reverence—there was nothing he -would not have done for her. - -His reflections were interrupted by Swanhild’s voice. - -“We will have every one from Rowan Tree House, wont we?” she said. - -“And Herr Sivertsen,” added Sigrid. “He must certainly come, because he -is all alone.” - -“And whatever happens, we must have old Miss Charlotte,” said Frithiof; -“but it strikes me we shall have to ask people to bring their own mugs, -like children at a school-treat.” - -But Sigrid scouted this suggestion, and declared that the blue and white -china would just go round, while, as to chairs, they could borrow two or -three from the neighbors. - -Then came the return home, and the dressing of the tree, amid much fun -and laughter, and the writing of the invitations, which must be posted -that night. In all London there could not have been found a merrier -household. All the past cares were forgotten; even the sorrows which -could not be healed had lost their sting, and the Christmas promised to -be indeed full of peace and goodwill. - -How ten people—to say nothing of Lance and Gwen—managed to stow -themselves away in the little parlor was a mystery to Frithiof. But -Sigrid was a person of resources, and while he was out the next day she -made all sorts of cunning arrangements, decorated the room with ivy and -holly, and so disposed the furniture that there was a place for every -one. - -At half-past four the guests began to arrive. First Mrs. Boniface and -Cecil with the children, who helped to light the tree; then Madame -Lechertier, laden with boxes of the most delicious _bonbons_ for every -one of the party, and soon after there came an abrupt knock, which they -felt sure could only have been given by Herr Sivertsen. Swanhild ran to -open the door and to take his hat and coat from him. Her eager welcome -seemed to please the old man, for his great massive forehead was -unusually free from wrinkles as he entered and shook hands with Sigrid, -and he bowed and smiled quite graciously as she introduced him to the -other guests. Then he walked round the Christmas tree with an air of -satisfaction, and even stooped forward and smelled it. - -“So,” he said contentedly, “you keep up the old customs, I see! I’m glad -of it—I’m glad of it. It’s years since I saw a properly dressed tree. -And the smell of it! Great heavens! it makes me feel like a boy again! -I’m glad you don’t follow with the multitude, but keep to the good old -Yule ceremonies.” - -In the mean time Cecil was pouring out tea and coffee in the kitchen, -where, for greater convenience, the table had been placed. - -“Sigrid has allowed me to be lady-help and not visitor,” she said -laughingly to Frithiof. “I told her she must be in the other room to -talk to every one after the English fashion, for you and Swanhild will -be too busy fetching and carrying.” - -“I am glad to have a chance of saying one word alone to you,” said -Frithiof. “Are you sure that Mrs. Boniface does not object to this new -plan as to the partnership?” - -“Why, she is delighted about it,” said Cecil. “And she will tell you so -when she has you to herself. I am so glad—so very glad that your trouble -is over at last, and everything cleared up.” - -“I can hardly believe it yet,” said Frithiof. “I’m afraid of waking and -finding that all this is a dream. Yet it feels real while I talk to you, -for you were the only outsider who believed in me and cheered me up last -summer. I shall never forget your trust in me.” - -Her eyes sank beneath his frank look of gratitude. She was horribly -afraid lest she should betray herself, and to hide the burning color -which surged up into her face, she turned away and busied herself with -the teapot, which did not at all want refilling. - -“You have forgotten Signor Donati,” she said, recovering her -self-possession. - -“Ah! I must write to him,” said Frithiof. “I more and more wonder how he -could possibly have had such insight into the truth. Here come Mr. -Boniface and Roy.” - -He returned to the parlor, while Cecil from the background watched the -greetings with some curiosity. In honor of Herr Sivertsen, and to please -Frithiof, both Sigrid and Swanhild wore their Hardanger peasant dress, -and Cecil thought she had never seen Sigrid look prettier than now, as -she shook hands with Roy, welcoming him with all the charm of manner, -with all the vivacity which was characteristic of her. - -“Tea for Mr. Boniface, and coffee for Roy,” announced Swanhild, dancing -in. “Lance, you can hand the crumpets, and mind you don’t drop them -all.” - -She pioneered him safely through the little crowd, and Frithiof returned -to Cecil. They had a comfortable little _tête-à-tête_ over the -tea-table. - -“I dare to think now,” he said, “of the actual amount of the debts, for -at last there is a certainty that in time I can pay them.” - -“How glad I am!” said Cecil. “It will be a great relief to you.” - -“Yes, it will be like getting rid of a haunting demon,” said Frithiof. -“And to see a real prospect of being free once more is enough to make -this the happiest Christmas I have ever known—to say nothing of getting -rid of the other cloud. I sometimes wonder what would have become of me -if I had never met you and your brother.” - -“If you had never sheltered us from the rain in your house,” she said, -smiling. - -“It is in some ways dreadful to see how much depends on quite a small -thing,” said Frithiof thoughtfully. - -And perhaps, could he have seen into Cecil’s heart, he would have been -more than ever impressed with this idea. - -Before long they rejoined the rest of the party, and then, all standing -round the tree, they sang _Glädelig Jul_, and an English carol, after -which the presents were distributed, amid much laughter and quite a -babel of talk. The whole entertainment had been given for a few -shillings, but it was probably one of the most successful parties of the -season, for all seemed full of real enjoyment, and all were ready to -echo Lance’s outspoken verdict, that Christmas trees in model lodgings -were much nicer than anywhere else. - -“But it isn’t fair that the model lodgings should have both Christmas -Eve and Christmas Day,” said Mrs. Boniface, “so you will come down to -Rowan Tree House this evening, and stay with us for a few days, will you -not?” - -There was no resisting the general entreaty, and indeed, now that all -was cleared up, Frithiof looked forward very much to staying once more -in the household which had grown so home-like to him. It was arranged -that they should go down to Brixton later in the evening; and when their -guests had left, Sigrid began, a little sadly, to make the necessary -preparations. She was eager to go, and yet something told her that never -again under the same circumstances, would the little household be under -her care. - -“I will take in the tree to the Hallifields,” she said; “the children -will be pleased with it. And, Frithiof, don’t you think that before we -leave you had better just call and thank Mr. Osmond for his help, and -for having been so kind to Swanhild? He will like to know that all is -cleared up.” - -Frithiof agreed and set off for Guilford Square. The night was frosty, -and the stars shone out bright and clear. He walked briskly through the -streets, not exactly liking the prospect of his interview with the -clergyman, yet anxious to get it over, and really grateful for what had -been done by him. - -Charles Osmond received him so kindly that his prejudices vanished at -once, and he told him just how the five-pound note had affected his -life, and how all had been satisfactorily explained. - -“Such coincidences are very strange,” said Charles Osmond, “but it is -not the first time that I have come across something of the sort. -Indeed, I know of a case very similar to yours.” - -“If Lady Romiaux is still with you,” said Frithiof, flushing a little, -“perhaps you will tell her that all is set straight, and thank her for -having released Swanhild from her promise.” - -“She is still here,” said Charles Osmond, “and I will certainly tell -her. I think when she gave the money to your sister she yielded to a -kind impulse, not at all realizing how foolish and useless such a plan -was. After all, though she has lived through so much, she is still in -some ways a mere child.” - -He looked at the Norwegian, wondering what lay beneath that handsome -face, with its Grecian outline and northern coloring. - -As if in answer to the thought, Frithiof raised his frank blue eyes, and -met the searching gaze of his companion. - -“Will not Lord Romiaux remember her youth?” he said. “Do you not think -there is at least a hope that he will forgive her?” - -Then Charles Osmond felt a strange gladness at his heart, and over his -face there came a look of indescribable content, for the words revealed -to him the noble nature of the man before him; he knew that not one in a -thousand would have so spoken under the circumstances. The interest he -had felt in this man, whose story had accidentally become known to him, -changed to actual love. - -“I am not without a strong hope that those two may be atoned,” he -replied. “But as yet I do not know enough of Lord Romiaux to feel sure. -It would probably involve the sacrifice of his public life. I do not -know whether his love is equal to such a sacrifice, or whether he has -strength and courage enough to offend the world, or whether he in the -least understands the law of forgiveness.” - -“If you could only get to know him,” said Frithiof. - -“I quite hope to do so, and that before long,” said Charles Osmond. “I -think I can get at him through a mutual friend—the member for -Greyshot—but we must not be in too great a hurry. Depend upon it, the -right time will come if we are only ready and waiting. Do you know the -old Scotch proverb, ‘Where twa are seeking they’re sure to find?’ There -is a deep truth beneath those words, a whole parable, it seems to me.” - -“I must not keep you,” said Frithiof, rising. “But I couldn’t rest till -I had thanked you for your help, and let you know what had happened.” - -“The affair has made us something more than mere acquaintances,” said -Charles Osmond. “I hope we may learn to know each other well in the -future. A happy Christmas to you.” - -He had opened the study door, they were in the passage outside, and he -grasped the Norwegian’s hand. At that moment it happened that Blanche -passed from the dining-room to the staircase; she just glanced round to -see who Charles Osmond was addressing so heartily, and, perceiving -Frithiof, colored painfully and caught at the banisters for support. - -Having realized what was the Norseman’s character, Charles Osmond did -not regret the meeting; he stood by in silence, glancing first at his -companion’s startled face, then at Blanche’s attitude of downcast -confusion. - -As for Frithiof, in that moment he realized that his early passion was -indeed dead. Its fierce fire had utterly burned out; the weary pain was -over, the terrible battle which he had fought so long was at an end, all -that was now left was a chivalrous regard for the woman who had made him -suffer so fearfully, a selfless desire for her future safety. - -He strode toward her with outstretched hand. It was the first time he -had actually touched her since they had parted long ago on the steamer -at Balholm, but he did not think of that; the past which had lingered -with him so long and with such cruel clearness seemed now to have -withered like the raiment of a Viking whose buried ship is suddenly -exposed to the air. - -“I have just been telling Mr. Osmond,” he said, “that, thanks to your -note to Swanhild, a curious mystery has been explained; he will tell you -the details.” - -“And you forgive me?” faltered Blanche. - -“Yes, with all my heart,” he said. - -For a moment her sorrowful eyes looked into his; she knew then that he -had entirely freed himself from his old devotion to her, for they met -her gaze frankly, fearlessly, and in their blue depths there was nothing -but kindly forgiveness. - -“Thank you,” she said, once more taking his hand. “Good-by.” - -“Good-by,” he replied. - -She turned away and went upstairs without another word. And thus, on -this Christmas eve, the two whose lives had been so strangely woven -together parted, never to meet again till the clearer light of some -other world had revealed to them the full meaning of their early love. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVI. - - -For a time Frithiof was rather silent and quiet, but Sigrid and Swanhild -were in high spirits as they went down to Rowan Tree House, arriving -just in time for supper. The atmosphere of happiness, however, is always -infectious, and he soon threw off his taciturnity, and dragging himself -away from his own engrossing thoughts, forgot the shadows of life in the -pure brightness of this home which had been so much to him ever since he -first set foot in it. - -With Swanhild for an excuse they played all sorts of games; but when at -last she had been sent off to bed, the fun and laughter quieted down, -Mr. and Mrs. Boniface played their nightly game of backgammon; Roy and -Sigrid had a long _tête-à-tête_ in the little inner drawing-room; Cecil -sat down at the piano and began to play Mendelssohn’s Christmas pieces; -and Frithiof threw himself back in the great arm-chair close by her, -listening half dreamily and with a restful sense of pause in his life -that he had never before known. He desired nothing, he reveled in the -sense of freedom from the love which for so long had been a misery to -him; the very calm was bliss. - -“That is beautiful,” he said, when the music ceased. “After all there is -no one like Mendelssohn, he is so human.” - -“You look like one of the lotos-eaters,” said Cecil, glancing at him. - -“It is precisely what I feel like,” he said, with a smile. “Perhaps it -is because you have been giving me - - ‘Music that gentlier on the spirit lies - Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes.’ - -I remember so well how you read that to me after I had been ill.” - -She took a thin little red volume from the bookshelves beside her and -turned over the leaves. He bent forward to look over her, and together -they read the first part of the poem. - -“It is Norway,” he said. “What could better describe it?” - - “A land of streams! Some like a downward smoke, - Slow dripping veils of thinnest lawn did go; - And some through wavering lights and shadows broke, - Rolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below. - - ... Far off, three mountain-tops, - Three silent pinnacles of aged snow, - Stood sunset-flushed; and, dewed with showery drops, - Up-clomb the shadowy pine above the woven copse.” - -“You will not be a true lotos-eater till you are there once more,” said -Cecil, glancing at him. For his dreamy content was gone, and a -wistfulness which she quite understood had taken its place. “Don’t you -think now that all is so different, you might perhaps go there next -summer?” she added. - -“No,” he replied, “you must not tempt me. I will not go back till I am a -free man and can look every one in the face. The prospect of being free -so much sooner than I had expected ought to be enough to satisfy me. -Suppose we build castles in the air; that is surely the right thing to -do on Christmas eve. When at last these debts are cleared, let us all go -to Norway together. I know Mr. Boniface would be enchanted with it, and -you, you did not see nearly all that you should have seen. You must see -the Romsdal and the Geiranger, and we must show you Oldören, where we so -often spent the summer holiday.” - -“How delightful it would be!” said Cecil. - -“Don’t say ‘would,’ say ‘will,’” he replied. “I shall not thoroughly -enjoy it unless we all go together, a huge party.” - -“I think we should be rather in the way,” she said. “You would have so -many old friends out there, and would want to get rid of us. Don’t you -remember the old lady who was so outspoken at Balholm when we tried to -be friendly and not to let her feel lonely and out of it?” - -Frithiof laughed at the recollection. - -“Yes,” he said; “she liked to be alone, and preferred to walk on quickly -and keep ‘out of the ruck,’ as she expressed it. We were ‘the ruck,’ And -how we laughed at her opinion of us.” - -“Well, of course you wouldn’t exactly put it in that way, but all the -same, I think you would want to be alone when you go back.” - -He shook his head. - -“No; you are quite mistaken. Now, promise that if Mr. Boniface agrees, -you will all come too.” - -“Very well,” she said, smiling, “I promise.” - -“Where are they going to?” he exclaimed, glancing into the inner room -where Roy was wrapping a thick sofa blanket about Sigrid’s shoulders. - -“Out into the garden to hear the bells, I dare say,” she replied. “We -generally go out if it is fine.” - -“Let us come too,” he said; and they left the bright room and went out -into the dusky veranda, pacing silently to and fro, absorbed in their -own thoughts while the Christmas bells rang - - “Peace and goodwill, goodwill and peace, - Peace and goodwill to all mankind.” - -But the other two, down in a sheltered path at the end of the garden, -were not silent, nor did they listen very much to the bells. - -“Sigrid,” said Roy, “have you forgotten that you made me a promise last -June?” - -“No,” she said, her voice trembling a little, “I have not forgotten.” - -“You promised that when Frithiof was cleared I might ask you for your -answer.” - -She raised her face to his in the dim starlight. - -“Yes, I did promise.” - -“And the answer is—?” - -“I love you.” - -The soft Norse words were spoken hardly above her breath, yet Roy knew -that they would ring in his heart all his life long. - -“My darling!” he said, taking her in his arms. “Oh, if you knew what the -waiting has been to me! But it was my own fault—all my own fault. I -ought to have trusted your instinct before my own reason.” - -“No, no,” she said, clinging to him; “I think I was hard and bitter that -day; you must forgive me, for I was so very unhappy. Don’t let us speak -of it any more. I hate to think of it even.” - -“And nothing can ever come between us again,” he said, still keeping his -arm round her as they walked on. - -“No; never again,” she repeated; “never again. I know I am too proud and -independent, and I suppose it is to crush down my pride that I have to -come to you like this, robbed of position and money, and—” - -“How can you speak of such things,” he said reproachfully. “You know -they are nothing to me—you know that I can never feel worthy of you.” - -“Such things do seem very little when one really loves,” she said -gently. “I have thought it over, and it seems to me like this—the proof -of your love to me is that you take me poor, an exile more or less -burdened with the past; the proof of my love to you is that I kill my -pride—and yield. It would have seemed impossible to me once; but now—Oh, -Roy! how I love you—how I love you!” - - * * * * * - -“And about Frithiof?” said Roy presently. “You will explain all to him, -and make him understand that I would not for the world break up his -home.” - -“Yes,” she replied, “I will tell him; but I think not to-night. Just -till to-morrow let it be only for ourselves. Hark! the clocks are -striking twelve! Let us go in and wish the others a happy Christmas.” - -But Roy kept the first of the good wishes for himself; then, at length -releasing her, walked beside her toward the house, happy beyond all -power of expression. - -And now once more outer things began to appeal to him he became -conscious of the Christmas bells ringing gayly in the stillness of the -night, of the stars shining down gloriously through the clear, frosty -air, of the cheerful glimpse of home to be seen through the uncurtained -window of the drawing-room. - -Cecil and Frithiof had left the veranda and returned to the piano; they -were singing a carol, the German air of which was well known in Norway. -Sigrid did not know the English words; but she listened to them now -intently, and they helped to reconcile her to the one thorn in her -perfect happiness—the thought that these other two were shut out from -the bliss which she enjoyed. - -Quietly she stole into the room and stood watching them as they sang the -quaint old hymn: - - “Good Christian men rejoice, - In heart and soul and voice; - Now ye hear of endless bliss; - Joy! joy! - Jesus Christ was born for this! - He hath oped the heavenly door. - And man is blessed evermore. - Christ was born for this.” - -Cecil, glancing up at her when the carol was ended, read her secret in -her happy, glowing face. She rose from the piano. - -“A happy Christmas to you,” she said, kissing her on both cheeks. - -“We have been out in the garden, right down in the lower path, and you -can’t think how lovely the bells sound,” said Sigrid. - -Then, with a fresh stab of pain at her heart, she thought of Frithiof’s -spoiled life; she looked wistfully across at him, conscious that her -love for Roy had only deepened her love for those belonging to her. - -Was he never to know anything more satisfying than the peace of being -freed from the heavy load of suspicion? Was he only to know the pain of -love? All her first desire to keep her secret to herself died away as -she looked at him, and in another minute her hand was on his arm. - -“Dear old boy,” she said to him in Norse, “wont you come out into the -garden with me for a few minutes?” - -So they went out together into the starlight, and wandered down to the -sheltered path where she and Roy had paced to and fro so long. - -“What a happy Christmas it has been for us all!” she said thoughtfully. - -“Very; and how little we expected it,” said Frithiof. - -“Do you think,” she began falteringly, “do you think, Frithiof, it would -make you less happy if I told you of a new happiness that has come to -me?” - -Her tone as much as the actual words suddenly enlightened him. - -“Whatever makes for your happiness makes for mine,” he said, trying to -read her face. - -“Are you sure of that?” she said, the tears rushing to her eyes. “Oh, if -I could quite believe you, Frithiof, how happy I should be!” - -“Why should you doubt me?” he asked. “Come, I have guessed your secret, -you are going to tell me that—” - -“That Roy will some day be your brother as well as your friend,” she -said, finishing his sentence for him. - -He caught her hand in his and held it fast. - -“I wish you joy, Sigrid, with all my heart. This puts the finishing -touch to our Christmas happiness.” - -“And Roy has been making such plans,” said Sigrid, brushing away her -tears; “he says that just over the wall there is a charming little house -back to back, you know, with this one, and it will just hold us all, for -of course he will never allow us to be separated. He told me that long -ago, when he first asked me.” - -“Long ago?” said Frithiof; “why, what do you mean, Sigrid? I thought it -was only to-night.” - -“It was only to-night that gave him his answer,” said Sigrid. “It was -when we were at the sea last June that he first spoke to me, and -then—afterward—perhaps I was wrong, but I would not hear anything more -about it till your cloud had passed away. I knew some day that your name -must be cleared, and I was angry with Roy for not believing in you. I -dare say I was wrong to expect it, but somehow I did expect it, and it -disappointed me so dreadfully. He says himself now that he ought to have -trusted—” - -“It was a wonder that you didn’t make him hate me forever,” said -Frithiof. “Why did you not tell me about it before?” - -“How could I?” she said. “It would only have made you more unhappy. It -was far better to wait.” - -“But what a terrible autumn for you!” exclaimed Frithiof. “And to think -that all this should have sprung from that wretched five-pound note! Our -stories have been curiously woven together, Sigrid.” - -As she thought of the contrast between the two stories her tears broke -forth afresh; she walked on silently hoping that he would not notice -them, but a drop fell right on to his wrist; he stopped suddenly, took -her face between his hands and looked full into her eyes. - -“You dear little goose,” he said, “what makes you cry! Was it because I -said our stories had been woven together?” - -“It’s because I wish they could have been alike,” she sobbed. - -“But it wasn’t to be,” he said quietly. “It is an odd thing to say to -you to-night, when your new life is beginning, but to-night I also am -happy, because now at last my struggle is over—now at last the fire is -burned out. I don’t want anything but just the peace of being free to -the end of my life. Believe me, I am content.” - -Her throat seemed to have closed up, she could not say a word just -because she felt for him so intensely. She gave him a little mute -caress, and once more they paced along the garden path. But her whole -soul revolted against this notion of content. She understood it as -little as the soldier marching to his first battle understands the calm -indifference of the comrade who lies in hospital. Surely Frithiof was to -have something better in his life than this miserable parody of love? -This passion, which had been almost all pain, could surely not be the -only glimpse vouchsafed him of the bliss which had transfigured the -whole world for her? There came back to her the thought of the old study -at Bergen, and she seemed to hear her father’s voice saying— - -“I should like an early marriage for Frithiof, but I will not say too -much about you, Sigrid, for I don’t know how I should ever spare you.” - -And she sighed as she remembered how his plans had been crossed and his -business ruined, and his heart broken—how both for him and for Frithiof -failure had been decreed. - -Yet the Christmas bells rang on in this world of strangely mingled joy -and sorrow, and they brought her much the same message that had been -brought to her by the silence on Hjerkinshö— - -“There is a better plan which can’t go wrong,” she said, to herself. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVII. - - -“I have some news for you,” said Mr. Horner to his wife a few days after -this, as one evening he entered the drawing-room. The huge gold clock -with the little white face pointed to the hour of eight, the golden pigs -still climbed the golden hill, the golden swineherd still leaned -meditatively on his golden staff. Mrs. Horner, arrayed in peacock-blue -satin, glanced from her husband to the clock and back again to her -husband. - -“News?” she said in a distinctly discouraging tone “Is it that which -makes you so late? However, it’s of no consequence to me if the dinner -is spoiled, quite the contrary, I am not particular. But I beg you wont -grumble if the meat is done to a cinder.” - -“Never mind the dinner,” replied Mr. Horner captiously. “I have other -things to think of than overdone joints. That fool Boniface has taken me -at my word, and actually doesn’t intend to renew the partnership.” - -“What!” cried his wife, “not now that all this affair is cleared up, and -you have apologized so handsomely to young Falck?” - -“No; it’s perfectly disgraceful,” said James Horner, looking like an -angry turkey-cock as he paced to and fro. “I shook hands with Falck and -told him I was sorry to have misjudged him, and even owned to Boniface -that I had spoken hastily, but would you believe it, he wont reconsider -the matter. He not only gives me the sack but he takes in my place that -scheming Norwegian.” - -“But the fellow has no capital,” cried Mrs. Horner, in great agitation. -“He is as poor as a rook! He hasn’t a single penny to put into the -concern.” - -“Precisely. But Boniface is such a fool that he overlooks that and does -nothing but talk of his great business capacities, his industry, his -good address, and a lot of other rubbish of that sort. Why without money -a fellow is worth nothing—absolutely nothing.” - -“From the first I detested him,” said Mrs. Horner. “I knew that the -Bonifaces were deceived in him. It’s my belief that although his -character is cleared as to this five-pound note business, yet he is -really a mere adventurer. Depend upon it he’ll manage to get everything -into his own hands, and will be ousting Roy one of these days.” - -“Well, he’s hardly likely to do that, for it seems the sister has been -keeping her eyes open, and that idiot of a Roy is going to marry her.” - -“To marry Sigrid Falck?” exclaimed Mrs. Horner, starting to her feet. -“Actually to bring into the family a girl who plays at dancing-classes -and parties—a girl who sweeps her own house and cooks her own dinner!” - -“I don’t know that she is any the worse for doing that,” said James -Horner. “It’s not the girl herself that I object to, for she’s pretty -and pleasant enough, but the connection, the being related by marriage -to that odious Falck, who has treated me so insufferably, who looks down -on me and is as stand-offish as if he were an emperor.” - -“If there is one thing I do detest,” said Mrs. Horner, “it is pushing -people—a sure sign of vulgarity. But it’s partly Loveday’s fault. If I -had had to deal with the Falcks they would have been taught their proper -place, and all this would not have happened.” - -At this moment dinner was announced. The overdone meat did not improve -Mr. Horner’s temper, and when the servants had left the room he broke -out into fresh invectives against the Bonifaces. - -“When is the wedding to be?” asked his wife. - -“Some time in February, I believe. They are house-furnishing already.” - -Mrs. Horner gave an ejaculation of annoyance. - -“Well, the sooner we leave London the better,” she said. “I’m not going -to be mixed up with all this; we’ll avoid any open breach with the -family of course, but for goodness’ sake do let the house and let us -settle down elsewhere. There’s that house at Croydon I was very partial -to, and you could go up and down easy enough from there.” - -“We’ll think of it,” said Mr. Horner reflectively. “And, by the by, -must, I suppose, get them some sort of wedding present.” - -“By good luck,” said Mrs. Horner, “I won a sofa-cushion last week in a -raffle at the bazaar for the chapel organ fund. It’s quite good enough -for them, I’m sure. I did half think of sending it to the youngest Miss -Smith, who is to be married on New Year’s Day, but they’re such rich -people that I suppose I must send them something a little more showy and -expensive. This will do very well for Sigrid Falck.” - -Luckily the opinion of outsiders did not at all mar the happiness of the -two lovers. They were charmed to hear that the Horners were leaving -London, and when in due time the sofa-cushion arrived, surmounted by -Mrs. Horner’s card, Sigrid, who had been in the blessed condition of -expecting nothing, was able to write a charming little note of thanks, -which by its straightforward simplicity, made the donor blush with an -uncomfortable sense of guilt. - -“And after all,” remarked Sigrid to Cecil, “we really owe a great deal -to Mrs. Horner, for if she had not asked me to that children’s fancy -ball I should never have met Madame Lechertier, and how could we ever -have lived all together if it had not been for that?” - -“In those days I think Mrs. Horner rather liked you, but somehow you -have offended her.” - -“Why of course it was by earning my living and setting up in model -lodgings; I utterly shocked all her ideas of propriety, and, when once -you do that, good-by to all hopes of remaining in Mrs. Horner’s good -books. It would have grieved me to displease any of your relations if -you yourselves cared for them, but the Horners—well, I can not pretend -to care the least about them.” - -The two girls were in the little sitting-room of the model lodgings, -putting the finishing touches to the white cashmere wedding-dress which -Sigrid had cut out and made for herself during the quiet days they had -spent at Rowan Tree House. Every one entered most heartily into all the -busy preparations, and Sigrid could not help thinking to herself that -the best proof that trouble had not spoiled or soured the lives either -of Cecil or Frithiof lay in their keen enjoyment of other people’s -happiness. - -The wedding was to be extremely quiet. Early in the morning, when Cecil -went to see if she could be of any use, she found the bride-elect in her -usual black dress and her housekeeping apron of brown holland, busily -packing Frithiof’s portmanteau. - -“Oh, let me do it for you,” she said. “The idea of your toiling away -to-day just as if you were not going to be married!” - -Sigrid laughed merrily. - -“Must brides sit and do nothing until the ceremony?” she asked. “If so, -I am sorry for them; I couldn’t sit still if I were to try. How glad I -am to think Frithiof and Swanhild will be at Rowan Tree House while we -are away! I should never have had a moment’s peace if I had left them -here, for Swanhild is, after all, only a child. It is so good of Mrs. -Boniface to have asked them.” - -“Since you are taking Roy away from us, I think it is the least you -could do,” said Cecil, laughing. “It will be such a help to have them -this evening, for otherwise we should all be feeling very flat, I know.” - -“And we shall be on our way to the Riviera,” said Sigrid, pausing for a -few minutes in her busy preparations; a dreamy look came into her clear, -practical eyes, and she let her head rest against the side of the bed. - -“Sometimes, do you know,” she exclaimed, “I can’t believe this is all -real, I think I am just imagining it all, and that I shall wake up -presently and find myself playing the Myosotis waltz at the academy—it -was always such a good tune to dream to.” - -“Wait,” said Cecil; “does this make it feel more real,” and hastily -going into the outer room she returned bearing the lovely wedding -bouquet which Roy had sent. - -“Lilies of the valley!” exclaimed Sigrid. “Oh, how exquisite! And myrtle -and eucharist lilies—it is the most beautiful bouquet I ever saw.” - -“Don’t you think it is time you were dressing,” said Cecil. “Come, sit -down and let me do your hair for you while you enjoy your flowers.” - -“But Swanhild’s packing—I don’t think it is quite finished.” - -“Never mind, I will come back this afternoon with her and finish -everything; you must let us help you a little just for once.” - -And then, as she brushed out the long, golden hair, she thought how few -brides showed Sigrid’s wonderful unselfishness and care for others, and -somehow wished that Roy could have seen her just as she was, in her -working-day apron, too full of household arrangements to spend much time -over her own toilet. - -Swanhild, already dressed in her white cashmere and pretty white beaver -hat, danced in and out of the room fetching and carrying, and before -long the bride, too, was dressed, and with her long tulle veil over the -dainty little wreath of real orange blossom from Madame Lechertier’s -greenhouse, and the homemade dress which fitted admirably, she walked -into the little sitting-room to show herself to Frithiof. - -“I shall hold up your train, Sigrid, in case the floor is at all dusty,” -said Swanhild, much enjoying the excitement of the first wedding in the -family, and determined not to think of the parting till it actually -came. - -Frithiof made an involuntary exclamation as she entered the room. - -“You look like Ingeborg,” he said, “when she came into the new temple of -Balder.” - - “Followed by many a fair attendant maiden, - As shines the moon amid surrounding stars,” - -quoted Swanhild in Norse from the old saga, looking roguishly up at her -tall brother. - -Sigrid laughed and turned to Cecil. - -“She says that I am the moon and shine with a borrowed light, and that -you are the stars with light of your own. By-the-by, where is my other -little bridesmaid?” - -“Gwen is to meet us at the church,” explained Cecil. “Do you know I -think the carriage must be waiting, for I see the eldest little -Hallifield tearing across the court-yard.” - -“Then I must say good-by to every one,” said Sigrid; and with one last -look round the little home which had grown so dear to them, she took -Frithiof’s arm and went out into the long stone passage, where a group -of the neighbors stood waiting to see the last of her, and to give her -their hearty good wishes. She had a word and a smile for every one, and -they all followed her down the stairs and across the court-yard and -stood waving their hands as the carriage drove off. - -That chapter of her life was ended, and the busy hive of workers would -no longer count her as queen-bee of the establishment. The cares and -troubles and wearing economies were things of the past, but she would -take with her and keep forever many happy memories; and many friendships -would still last and give her an excuse for visiting afterward the scene -of her first home in London. - -She was quite silent as they drove through the busy streets, her eyes -had again that sweet, dreamy look in them that Cecil had noticed earlier -in the morning; she did not seem to see outward things, until after a -while her eyes met Frithiof’s, and then her face, which had been rather -grave, broke into sudden brightness, and she said a few words to him in -Norse, which he replied to with a look so full of loving pride and -contentment that it carried the sunshine straight into Cecil’s heart. - -“This marriage is a capital thing for him,” she thought to herself. “He -will be happy in her happiness.” - -By this time they had reached the church; Lance, in the dress he had -worn at Mrs. Horner’s fancy ball, stood ready to hold the bride’s train, -and Gwen came running up to take her place in the little procession. - -A few spectators had dropped in, but the church was very quiet, and up -in the chancel there were only Roy and his best man, Madame Lechertier, -old Herr Sivertsen, and the father and mother of the bridegroom. Charles -Osmond read the service, and his pretty daughter-in-law had begged leave -to play the organ, for she had taken a fancy not only to little -Swanhild, but to the whole family, when at her father-in-law’s request -she had called upon them. After the wedding was over and the procession -had once more passed down the aisle, she still went on playing, having a -love of finishing in her nature. Charles Osmond came out of the vestry -and stood beside her. - -“I am glad you played for them,” he said when the last chord had been -struck. “It was not at all the sort of wedding to be without music.” - -“It was one of the nicest weddings I was ever at,” she said: “and as to -your Norseman—he is all you said, and more. Do you know, there is a -strong look about him which somehow made me think of my father. Oh! I do -hope he will be able to pay off the debts.” - -“There is only one thing which could hinder him,” said Charles Osmond. - -“What is that?” asked Erica, looking up quickly. - -“Death,” he replied quietly. - -She made no answer, but the word did not jar upon her, for she was one -of those who have learned that death is indeed the Gate of Life. - -Silently she pushed in the stops and locked the organ. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXVIII. - - -One spring evening, rather more than two years after the wedding, Sigrid -was working away in the little back garden, to which, now that her -household duties were light, she devoted a good deal of her time. It -joined the garden of Rowan Tree House, and, for greater convenience, an -opening had been made in the hedge, and a little green gate put up. Upon -this gate leaned Cecil chatting comfortably, her tennis racquet under -her arm, and with a pleasant consciousness that the work of the day was -over, and that Roy and Frithiof might soon be expected for the nightly -game which, during the season, they seldom cared to miss. - -“They are late this evening,” said Sigrid. “I wonder whether Herr -Sivertsen has caught Frithiof. I hope not, for the tennis does him so -much good.” - -“Is he working very hard?” asked Cecil. - -“He always works furiously; and just now I think he has got what some -one called ‘the lust of finishing’ upon him; we see very little of him, -for when he is not at business he is hard at work over Herr Sivertsen’s -manuscript. But it really seems to agree with him; they say, you know, -that work without worry harms no one.” - -“A very moral precept,” said a voice behind her, and glancing up she saw -Frithiof himself crossing the little lawn. - -The two years had not greatly altered him, but he seemed more full of -life and vigor than before, and success and hope had entirely banished -the look of conflict which for so long had been plainly visible in his -face. Sigrid felt proud of him as she glanced round; there was something -in his mere physical strength which always appealed to her. - -“We were just talking about you,” she said, “and wondering when you -would be ready to play.” - -“After that remark of yours which I overheard I almost think I shall -have to eschew tennis,” he said, laughing. “Why should I give a whole -hour to it when Herr Sivertsen is impatiently waiting for the next -installment?” - -“Herr Sivertsen is insatiable,” said Sigrid, taking off her -gardening-gloves. “And I’m not going to allow you to return to your old -bad ways; as long as you live with me you will have to be something more -than a working drudge.” - -“Since Sigrid has begun baby’s education,” said Frithiof, turning -laughingly to Cecil, “we notice that she has become very dictatorial to -the rest of us.” - -“You shouldn’t make stage asides in such a loud voice,” said Sigrid, -pretending to box his ears. “I am going to meet Roy and to fetch the -racquets, and you take him into the garden, Cecil, and make him behave -properly.” - -“Are you really so specially busy just now?” asked Cecil, as he opened -the little gate and joined her; “or was it only your fun?” - -“No, it was grim earnest,” he replied. “For since Herr Sivertsen has -been so infirm I have had most of his work to do. But it is well-paid -work, and a very great help toward the debt fund. In ten years’ time I -may be free.” - -“You will really have paid off everything?” - -“I quite hope to be able to do so.” - -“It will be a great work done,” she said thoughtfully. “But when it is -all finished, I wonder whether you will not feel a little like the men -who work all their lives to make a certain amount and then retire, and -can’t think what to do with themselves?” - -“I hope not,” said Frithiof; “but I own that there is a chance of it. -You see, the actual work in itself is hateful to me. Never, I should -think, was there any one who so loathed indoor work of all kinds, -specially desk work. Yet I have learned to take real interest in the -business, and that will remain and still be my duty when the debts are -cleared off. It is a shocking confession, but I own that when Herr -Sivertsen’s work is no longer a necessity it will be an immense relief -to me, and I doubt if I shall ever open that sort of book again.” - -“It must be terrible drudgery,” said Cecil, “since you can’t really like -it.” - -“Herr Sivertsen has given me up as a hopeless case; he has long ago -ceased to talk about Culture with a capital C to it; he no longer -expects me to take any interest in the question whether earth-worms do -or do not show any sensitiveness to sound when placed on a grand piano. -I told him that the bare idea is enough to make any one in the trade -shudder.” - -Cecil laughed merrily. It was by no means the first time that he had -told her of his hopeless lack of all literary and scientific tastes, and -she admired him all the more for it, because he kept so perseveringly to -the work, and disregarded his personal tastes so manfully. They had, -moreover, many points in common, for there was a vein of poetry in his -nature as well as in hers; like most Norwegians, he was musical, and his -love of sport and of outdoor life had not robbed him of the gentler -tastes—love of scenery and love of home. - -“See!” she exclaimed, “there is the first narcissus. How early it is! I -must take it to mother, for she is so fond of them.” - -He stooped to gather the flower for her, and as she took it from him, he -just glanced at her for a moment; she was looking very pretty that -evening, her gray eyes were unusually bright, there was a soft glow of -color in her fair face, an air of glad contentment seemed to hover about -her. He little guessed that it was happiness in his success which was -the cause of all this. - -Even as he watched her, however, her color faded, her lips began to -quiver, she seemed to be on the point of fainting. - -“Is anything the matter?” he asked, alarmed by the sudden change in her -face. “Are you ill, Cecil?” - -She did not reply, but let him help her to the nearest garden seat. - -“It is the scent of the narcissus; it is too strong for you,” he -suggested. - -“No,” she gasped. “But a most awful feeling came over me. Something is -going to happen, I am sure of it.” - -He looked perplexed. She dropped the narcissus from her hand, and he -picked it up and put it on the farther side of the bench, still clinging -to his own theory that it was the cause of her faintness. Her face, -which a moment before had been so bright, was now white as the flower -itself, and the look of suffering in it touched him. - -His heart began to beat a little uneasily when he saw a servant -approaching them from the house. - -“She is right,” he thought to himself. “What on earth can it be?” - -“Master asked me to give you this, Miss Cecil,” said the maid, handing -her a little penciled note. - -She sat up hastily, making a desperate effort to look as if nothing were -wrong with her. The servant went back to the house, and Frithiof waited -anxiously to hear what the note was about. She read it through and then -handed it to him. - -It ran as follows: - -“Mr. Grantley has come, and wishes to see the children. He will not take -them away for a few days, but you had better bring them down to see -him.” - -“He is out of prison!” exclaimed Frithiof. “But surely his time is not -up yet. I thought he had five years?” - -“The five years would be over next October. I knew it would come some -day, but I never thought of it so soon, and to take them away in a few -days!” - -“I remember now,” said Frithiof; “there is a rule that by good behavior -in prison they can slightly shorten their time. I am so sorry for you; -it will be a fearful wrench to you to part with Lance and Gwen.” - -She locked her hands together, making no attempt at an answer. - -“How exactly like the world,” thought Frithiof to himself. “Here is a -girl passionately devoted to these children, while the mother, who never -deserved them at all, has utterly deserted them. To have had them for -five years and then suddenly to lose them altogether, that is a fearful -blow for her; they ought to have thought of it before adopting the -children.” - -“Is there nothing I can do to help you?” he said, turning toward her. -“Shall I go and fetch Lance and Gwen?” - -With an effort she stood up. - -“No, no,” she said, trying hard to speak cheerfully. “Don’t let this -spoil your game. I am better, I will go and find them.” - -But by a sudden impulse he sprang up, made her take his arm and walked -to the house with her. - -“You are still rather shaky, I think,” he said. “Let me come with you, I -can at any rate save you the stairs. How strange it was that you should -have known beforehand that this was coming! Did you ever have a -presentiment of that kind over anything else?” - -“Never,” she said. “It was such an awful feeling. I wonder what it is -that brings it.” - -He left her in the hall and ran upstairs to the nursery, where he was -always a welcome visitor. Both children rushed to meet him with cries of -delight. - -“Cecil has sent me up with a message to you,” he said. - -“To say we may come down,” shouted Lance. “Is it that, Herr Frithiof?” - -“No,” cried Gwen, dancing round him, “it’s to say a holiday for -to-morrow, I guess.” - -“No, not that exactly,” he said; “but your father has come, and Cecil -wants you to come down and see him.” - -The children’s faces fell. It seemed almost as if they instinctively -knew of the cloud that hung over their father. They had always known -that he would some day come to them; but his name had been little -mentioned. It was difficult to mention it without running the risk of -the terrible questions which as children they were so likely to ask. All -the gladness and spirit seemed to have left them. They were both shy, -and the meeting with this unknown parent was a terror to them. They -clung to Frithiof as he took them downstairs, and, catching sight of -Cecil leaning back in one of the hall chairs, they made a rush for her, -and poured out all their childish fears as she clung to them and kissed -them with all the tenderness of a real mother. - -“We don’t want to go and see father,” said Lance stoutly. “We had much -rather not.” - -“But you must think that he wants to see you very much,” said Cecil. “He -remembers you quite well, though you have forgotten him; and now that he -has come back to you, you must both make him very happy, and love him.” - -“I don’t like him at all,” said Gwen perversely. - -“It is silly and wrong to say that,” said Cecil. “You will love him when -you see him.” - -“I love you,” said Gwen, with a vehement hug. - -“Have you only room for one person in your heart?” - -“I rather love Herr Frithiof,” said Gwen, glancing up at him through her -eyelashes. - -They both smiled, and Cecil, seeing that little would be gained by -discussing the matter, got up and led them toward the drawing-room, her -pale, brave face contrasting curiously with Gwen’s rosy cheeks and -rebellious little air. - -Mr. Boniface sat talking to the new-comer kindly enough. They both rose -as Cecil and the children entered. - -“This is my daughter,” said Mr. Boniface. - -And Cecil shook hands with the ex-prisoner, and looked a little -anxiously into his face. - -He was rather a pleasant-looking man of five-and-thirty, and so much -like Lance that she could not help feeling kindly toward him. She hoped -that the children would behave well, and glanced at Gwen nervously. - -But Gwen, who was a born flirt, speedily forgot her dislike, and was -quite willing to meet the stranger’s advances half-way. In two minutes’ -time she was contentedly sitting on his knee, while Lance stood shyly -by, studying his father with a gravity which was, however, inclined to -be friendly and not critical. When he had quite satisfied himself he -went softly away, returning before long with a toy pistol and a boat, -which he put into his father’s hands. - -“What is this?” said Mr. Grantley. - -“It’s my favorite toys,” said Lance. “I wanted to show them you. Quick, -Gwen, run and find your doll for father.” - -He seemed touched and pleased; and indeed they were such well-trained -children that any parent must have been proud of them. To this -ex-convict, who for years had been cut off from all child-life, the mere -sight of them was refreshing. He seemed quite inclined to sit there and -play with them for the rest of the evening. And Cecil sat by in a sort -of dream, hearing of the new home that was to be made for the children -in British Columbia—where land was to be had for a penny an acre, and -where one could live on grapes and peaches, and all the most delicious -fruits. Then, presently, with many expressions of gratitude for all that -had been done for the children, Mr. Grantley took leave, and she led the -little ones up to bed, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Boniface to go out into the -garden and tell Roy and Sigrid what had passed. - -“How does Cecil take it?” asked Sigrid anxiously. - -“Very quietly,” was the reply; “but I am afraid she feels losing them so -soon.” - -Frithiof, with an uncomfortable recollection of what had passed in the -garden, doubted if Mrs. Boniface fully understood the depth of Cecil’s -feelings. He left them talking over the drawbacks and advantages of -colonial life, and went in to his translating; but though he forgot the -actual cause, he was conscious all the time of a disturbing influence, -and even while absorbed in his work, had an irritating sense that -something had gone wrong, and that trouble was in the air. - -He went to bed and dreamed all night of Cecil. She haunted him -persistently; sometimes he saw her leaning back on the garden seat, with -the narcissus just falling from her hand, sometimes he saw her with the -children clinging to her as they had done in the hall. - -From that time forward a great change came over his attitude toward her. -Hitherto his friendship with her had, it must be owned, been chiefly -selfish. He had always heartily liked her, had enjoyed being at Rowan -Tree House, had fallen into the habit of discussing many things with her -and valuing her opinion, but it was always of himself he had thought—of -what she could do for him, of what he could learn from her, of how much -enjoyment he could get from her music and her frank friendliness, and -her easy way of talking. It was not that he was more selfish than most -men, but that they had learned really to know each other at a time when -his heart was so paralyzed by Blanche’s faithlessness, so crushed by the -long series of misfortunes, that giving had been out of the question for -him; he could merely take and make the most of whatever she could give -him. - -But now all this was altered. The old wounds, though to the end of his -life they must leave a scar, were really healed. He had lived through a -great deal, and had lived in a way that had developed the best points in -his character. He had now a growingly keen appreciation for all that was -really beautiful—for purity, and strength, and tenderness, and for that -quality which it is the fashion to call Altruism, but which he, with his -hatred of affectation in words, called goodness. - -As he thought of Cecil during those days he began to see more and more -clearly the full force of her character. Hitherto he had quietly taken -her for granted; there was nothing very striking about her, nothing in -the least obtrusive. Perhaps if it had not been for that strange little -scene in the garden he would never have taken the trouble to think of -her actual character. - -Through the week that followed he watched her with keen interest and -sympathy. That she should be in trouble—at any rate, in trouble that was -patent to all the world—was something entirely new. Their positions -seemed to be reversed; and he found himself spontaneously doing -everything he could think of to please and help her. Her trouble seemed -to draw them together; and to his mind there was something very -beautiful in her passionate devotion to the children—for it was a -devotion that never in the least bordered on sentimentality. She went -through everything very naturally, having a good cry now and then, but -taking care not to make the children unhappy at the prospect of the -parting, and arranging everything that they could possibly want, not -only on the voyage, but for some time to come in their new home. - -“She is so plucky!” thought Frithiof to himself, with a thrill of -admiration. For he was not at all the sort of man to admire -helplessness, or languor, or cowardice; they seemed to him as unlovely -in a woman as in a man. - -At last the actual parting came. Cecil would have liked to go down to -the steamer and see the children start, but on thinking it over she -decided that it would be better not. - -“They will feel saying good-by,” she said, “and it had better be here. -Then they will have the long drive with you to the docks, and by that -time they will be all right again, and will be able to enjoy the steamer -and all the novelty.” - -Mr. Boniface was obliged to own that there was sound common-sense in -this plan; so in their own nursery, where for nearly five years she had -taken such care of them, Cecil dressed the two little ones for the last -time, brushed out Gwen’s bright curls, coaxed Lance into his reefer, and -then, no longer able to keep back her tears, clung to them in the last -terrible parting. - -“Oh, Cecil, dear, darling Cecil,” sobbed Lance, “I don’t want to go -away; I don’t care for the steamer one bit.” - -She was on the hearthrug, with both children nestled close to her, the -thought of the unknown world that they were going out into, and the -difficult future awaiting them, came sweeping over her; just as they -were then, innocent, and unconscious, and happy, she could never see -them again. - -“Be good, Lance,” she said, through her tears. “Promise me always to try -to be good.” - -“I promise,” said the little fellow, hugging her with all his might. -“And we shall come back as soon as ever we’re grown up—we shall both -come back.” - -“Yes, yes,” said Cecil, “you must come back.” - -But in her heart she knew that however pleasant the meeting in future -years might be, it could not be like the present; as children, and as -her own special charge, she was parting with them forever. - -The carriage drove up to the door; there came sounds of hurrying feet -and fetching and carrying of luggage; Cecil took them downstairs, and -then, with a last long embrace from Lance, and kisses interspersed with -sobs from Gwen, she gave them up to her father, and turned to take leave -of their nurse. - -“I will take great care of them, miss,” said the maid, herself crying, -“and you shall hear from me regularly.” - -In another minute the carriage had driven away, and Cecil was left to -make the best she might of what she could not but feel, at first, a -desolate life. - - - - - CHAPTER XXXIX. - - -Hardly had the bustle of departure quieted down at Rowan Tree House when -a fresh anxiety arose. Herr Sivertsen, who had for some time been out of -health, was seized with a fatal illness, and for three days and nights -Frithiof was unable to leave him; on the third night the old Norseman -passed quietly away, conscious to the last minute, and with his latest -breath inveighing against the degeneracy of the age. - -“Frithiof is a rare exception,” he said, turning his dim eyes toward -Sigrid, who stood by the bedside. “And to him I leave all that I have. -As for the general run of young men nowadays—I wash my hands of them—a -worthless set—a degenerate—” - -His voice died away, he sighed deeply, caught Frithiof’s hand in his, -and fell back on the pillow lifeless. - -When the will was read it affirmed that Herr Sivertsen, who had no -relations living, had indeed left his property to Frithiof. The will was -terse and eccentric in the extreme, and seemed like one of the old man’s -own speeches, ending with the familiar words, “for he is one of the few -honest and hard-working men in a despicable generation.” - -Naturally there was only one way to which Frithiof could think of -putting his legacy. Every penny of it went straight to his debt-fund. -Mr. Horner heard of it and groaned. “What!” he exclaimed, “pay away the -principal; hand over thousands of pounds in payment of debts that are -not even his own—debts that don’t affect his name! He ought to put the -money into this business, Boniface; it would only be a fitting way of -showing you his gratitude.” - -“He put into the business what I value far more,” said Mr. Boniface. “He -put into it his honest Norwegian heart, and this legacy will save him -many years of hard, weary work and anxiety.” - -When summer came it was arranged that they should go to Norway, and -Frithiof went about his work with such an air of relief and contentment, -that had it not been for one hidden anxiety Sigrid’s happiness would -have been complete. - -Her marriage had been so extremely happy that she was less than ever -satisfied with the prospect that seemed to lie before Cecil. The secret -which she had found out at the time of Frithiof’s disgrace weighed upon -her now a good deal; she almost wished that Roy would guess it; but no -one else seemed to have any suspicion of it at all, and Sigrid of course -could not speak, partly because she was Frithiof’s sister, partly -because she had a strong feeling that to allude to that matter would be -to betray Cecil unfairly. Had she been a matchmaker she might have done -endless harm; had she been a reckless talker she would probably have -defeated her own ends; but happily she was neither, and though at times -she longed to give Frithiof a good shaking, when she saw him entirely -absorbed in his work and blind to all else, she managed to keep her own -counsel, and to await, though somewhat impatiently, whatever time should -bring. One evening it chanced that the brother and sister were alone for -a few minutes during the intervals of an amateur concert, which Cecil -had been asked to get up at Whitechapel. - -“How do you think it has gone off?” said Sigrid, as he sat down beside -her in the little inner room. - -“Capitally; Cecil ought to be congratulated,” he replied. “I am glad she -has had it on hand, for it must have taken her thoughts off the -children.” - -“Yes,” said Sigrid; “anything that does that is worth something.” - -“Yet she seems to me to have plenty of interests,” said Frithiof. “She -is never idle; she is a great reader.” - -“Do you think books would ever satisfy a woman like Cecil?” exclaimed -Sigrid, with a touch of scorn in her voice. - -He looked at her quickly, struck by something unusual in her tone, and -not at all understanding the little flush of hot color that had risen in -her face. - -“Oh,” he said teasingly, “you think that every one has your ideal of -happiness, and cannot manage to exist without the equivalent of Roy and -baby, to say nothing of the house and garden.” - -“I don’t think anything of the sort,” she protested, relieved by his -failure to appropriate to himself her rather unguarded speech. - -“Norway will be the best thing in the world for her,” he said. “It is -the true panacea for all evils. Can you believe that in less than a week -we shall actually be at Bergen once more!” - -And Sigrid, looking at his eager, blue eyes, and remembering his brave -struggles and long exile, could not find it in her heart to be angry -with him any more. Besides, he had been very thoughtful for Cecil just -lately, and seemed to have set his heart on making the projected tour in -Norway as nearly perfect as might be. To Sigrid there was a serious -drawback—she was obliged to leave her baby behind in England; however, -after the first wrench of parting, she managed to enjoy herself very -well, and Mrs. Boniface, who was to spend the six weeks of their absence -in Devonshire with some of her cousins, promised to take every possible -care of her little grandson, to telegraph now and then, and to write at -every opportunity. It had been impossible for Mr. Boniface to leave -London, but the two younger members of the firm, with Sigrid, Cecil, and -little Swanhild, made a very merry party, and Frithiof, at length free -from the load of his father’s debts, seemed suddenly to grow ten years -younger. Indeed, Sigrid, who for so long had seen her hopes for Cecil -defeated by the cares and toils brought by these same debts, began to -fear that now his extreme happiness in his freedom would quite suffice -to him, and that he would desire nothing further. - -Certainly, for many years he had known nothing like the happiness of -that voyage, with its bright expectation, its sense of relief. To look -back on the feverish excitement of his voyage to England five years -before was like looking back into some other life; and if the world was -a graver and sadder place to him now than it had been long ago, he had -at any rate learned that life was not limited to three-score years and -ten, and had gained a far deeper happiness of which no one could rob -him. On the Wednesday night he slept little, and very early in the -morning was up on the wet and shining deck eagerly looking at the first -glimpse of his own country. His heart bounded within him when the red -roofs and gables of Stavanger came into sight, and he was the very first -to leap off the steamer, far too impatient to touch Norwegian soil once -more to dream of waiting for the more leisurely members of the party. -The quiet little town seemed still fast asleep; he scarcely met a soul -in the primitive streets with their neat wooden houses and their -delightful look of home. In a rapture of happiness he walked on drinking -down deep breaths of the fresh morning air, until coming at length to -the cathedral he caught sight of an old woman standing at the door, key -in hand. - -He stopped and had a long conversation with her for the mere pleasure of -hearing his native tongue once more; he made her happy with a _kroner_ -and enjoyed her grateful shake of the hand, then, partly to please her, -entered the cathedral. In the morning light, the severe beauty of the -old Norman nave was very impressive; he knelt for a minute or two, glad -to have the uninterrupted quiet of the great place before it had been -reached by any of the tourists. It came into his mind how, long ago, his -father’s last words to him had been “A happy return to Gammle Norge,” -how for so long those words had seemed to him the bitterest mockery—an -utter impossibility—and how, at last in a very strange and different -way, they had come true. He had come back, and, spite of all that had -intervened, he was happy. - -Later in the day, when they slowly steamed into Bergen harbor and saw -once more the place that he had so often longed for, with its dear -familiar houses and spires, its lovely surrounding mountains, his -happiness was not without a strong touch of pain. For after all, though -the place remained, his home had gone forever, and though Herr Grönvold -stood waiting for them on the landing quay with the heartiest of -welcomes, yet he could not but feel a terrible blank. - -Cecil read his face in a moment, and understood just what he was -feeling. - -“Come and let us look for the luggage,” she said to Roy, wishing to -leave the three Norwegians to themselves for a few minutes. - -“Rather different to our last arrival here,” said Roy brightly. He was -so very happy that it was hardly likely he should think just then of -other people. But as Cecil gave the assent which seemed so -matter-of-fact her eyes filled with tears, for she could not help -thinking of all the brightness of that first visit, of Frithiof with his -boyish gayety and light-heartedness, of the kindness and hospitality of -his father, of the pretty villa in Kalvedalen, of poor Blanche in her -innocent girlhood. - -They were all to stay for a few days with the Grönvolds, and there was -now plenty of room for them, since Karen and the eldest son were married -and settled in homes of their own. Fru Grönvold and Sigrid met with the -utmost affection, and all the petty quarrels and vexations of the past -were forgotten; indeed, the very first evening they had a hearty laugh -over the recollection of their difference of opinion about Torvald -Lundgren. - -“And, my dear” said Fru Grönvold, who was as usual knitting an -interminable stocking. “You need not feel at all anxious about him, he -is very happily married, and I think, yes, certainly can not help -owning, that he manages his household with a firmer hand than would -perhaps have suited you. He has a very pretty little wife who worships -the ground he treads on.” - -“Which you see I could never have done,” said Sigrid merrily. “Poor -Torvald! I am very glad he is happily settled. Frithiof must go and see -him. How do you think Swanhild is looking, Auntie?” - -“Very well and very pretty,” said Fru Grönvold. “One would naturally -suppose that, at her rather awkward age, she would have lost her good -looks, but she is as graceful as ever.” - -“She is a very brave, hard-working little woman,” said Sigrid. “I told -you that she had begged so hard to stay on with Madame Lechertier that -we had consented. It would indeed have been hardly fair to take her away -all at once, when Madame had been so kind and helpful to us; and -Swanhild is very independent, you know, and declares that she must have -some sort of profession, and that to be a teacher of dancing is clearly -her vocation.” - -“By and by, when she is grown up, she is going to keep my house,” said -Frithiof. - -“No, no,” said Sigrid; “I shall never spare her, unless it is to get -married; you two would never get on by yourselves. By the by, I am sure -Cecil is keeping away from us on purpose; she went off on the plea of -reading for her half-hour society, but she has been gone quite a long -time. Go and find her, Frithiof, and tell her we very much want her.” - -He went out and found Cecil comfortably installed in the dining-room -with her book. - -“Have you not read enough?” he said. “We are very dull without you in -there.” - -“I thought you would have so much to talk over together,” she said, -putting down her book and lifting her soft gray eyes to his. - -“Not a bit,” he replied; “we are pining for music and want you to sing, -if you are not too tired. What learned book were you reading, after such -a journey? Plato?” - -“A translation of the ‘Phaedo,’” she said. “There is such a strange -little bit here about pleasure being mixed with pain always.” - -“Oh, they had found that out in those days, had they?” said Frithiof. -“Read the bit to me; for, to tell you the truth, it would fit in rather -well with this return to Bergen.” - -Cecil turned over the pages and read the following speech of Socrates: - -“‘How singular is the thing called pleasure, and how curiously related -to pain, which might be thought to be the opposite of it; for they never -come to man together, and yet he who pursues either of them is generally -compelled to take the other. They are two, and yet they grow together -out of one head or stem; and I cannot help thinking that if Æsop had -noticed them he would have made a fable about God trying to reconcile -their strife, and when he could not, he fastened their heads together; -and this is the reason why, when one comes the other follows.’” - -“It’s odd to think that all these hundreds of years people have been -racking their brains to find some explanation of the great problem,” -said Frithiof, “that generation after generation of unsatisfied people -have lived and died.” - -“A poor woman from East London once answered the problem to me quite -unconsciously,” said Cecil. “She was down in the country for change of -air, and she said to me, ‘It’s just like Paradise here, miss, and if it -could always go on it would be heaven.’” - -He sighed. - -“Come and sing me ‘Princessen,’” he said, “if you are really not too -tired. I am very much in the mood of that restless lady in the poem.” - -And, in truth, often during those days at Bergen he was haunted by the -weird ending of the song— - - “‘What _do_ I then want, my God?’ she cried - Then the sun went down.” - -He had a good deal of business to see to, and the clearing off of the -debts was, of course, not without a considerable pleasure; he greatly -enjoyed, too, the hearty welcome of his old friends; but there was -always something wanting. For every street, every view, every inch of -the place was associated with his father, and, dearly as he loved -Bergen, he felt that he could not have borne to live in it again. He -seemed to find his chief happiness in lionizing Cecil, and sometimes, -when with her, the pain of the return was forgotten, and he so enjoyed -her admiration of his native city that he no longer felt the terrible -craving for his father’s presence. They went to Nestun, and wandered -about in the woods; they took Cecil to see the quaint old wooden church -from Fortun; they had a merry picnic at Fjessanger, and an early -expedition to the Bergen fish market, determined that Cecil should enjoy -that picturesque scene with the weather-beaten fishermen, the bargaining -housewives with their tin pails, the boats laden with their shining -wealth of fishes. Again and again, too, they walked up the beautiful -_fjeldveien_ to gain that wonderful bird’s-eye view over the town and -the harbor and the lakes. But perhaps no one was sorry when the visit -came to an end, and they were once more on their travels, going by sea -to Molde and thence to Naes. - -It was quite late one evening that they steamed down the darkening -Romsdalsfjord. The great Romsdalshorn reared its dark head solemnly into -the calm sky, and everywhere peace seemed to reign. The steamer was -almost empty; Frithiof and Cecil stood alone at the forecastle end, -silently reveling in the exquisite view before them. - -A thousand thoughts were seething in Frithiof’s mind; that first glimpse -of the Romsdalshorn had taken him back to the great crisis of his life; -in strange contrast to that peaceful scene he had a vision of a crowded -London street; in yet stranger contrast to his present happiness and -relief he once more looked into the past, and thought of his hopeless -misery, of his deadly peril, of the struggle he had gone through, of the -chance which had made him pause before the picture shop, and of his -recognition of the painting of his native mountains. Then he thought of -his first approach to Rowan Tree House on that dusky November afternoon, -and he thought of his strange dream of the beasts, and the precipice, -and the steep mountain-side, and the opening door with the Madonna and -Child framed in dazzling light. Just at that moment from behind the dark -purple mountains rose the great, golden-red moon. It was a sight never -to be forgotten, and the glow and glamour cast by it over the whole -scene was indescribable. Veblungsnaes with its busy wooden pier and its -dusky houses with here and there a light twinkling from a window; the -Romsdalshorn with its lofty peak, and the beautiful valley beyond bathed -in that sort of dim brightness and misty radiance which can be given by -nothing but the rising moon. - -Frithiof turned and looked at Cecil. - -She had taken off her hat that she might better enjoy the soft evening -breeze which was ruffling up her fair hair; her blue dress was one of -those shades which are called “new,” but which are not unlike the old -blue in which artists have always loved to paint the Madonna; her face -was very quiet and happy; the soft evening light seemed to etherealize -her. - -“You will never know how much I owe to you,” he said impetuously. “Had -it not been for all that you did for me in the past I could not possibly -have been here to-night.” - -She had been looking toward Veblungsnaes, but now she turned to him with -a glance so beautiful, so rapturously happy, that it seemed to waken new -life within him. He was so amazed at the strength of the passion which -suddenly took possession of him that for a time he could hardly believe -he was in real waking existence; this magical evening light, this -exquisite fjord with its well-known mountains, might well be the scenery -of some dream; and Cecil did not speak to him, she merely gave him that -one glance and smile, and then stood beside him silently, as though -there were no need of speech between them. - -He was glad she was silent, for he dreaded lest anything should rouse -him and take him back to the dull, cold past—the past in which for so -long he had lived with his heart half dead, upheld only by the intention -of redeeming his father’s honor. To go back to that state would be -terrible; moreover, the aim no longer existed. The debts were paid—his -work was over, and yet his life lay before him. - -Was it to be merely a business life—a long round of duty work? or was it -possible that love might glorify the every-day round—that even for him -this intense happiness, which as yet he could hardly believe to be real, -might actually dawn? - -And the steamer glided on over the calm moonlit waters, and drew nearer -to Veblungsnaes, where an eager-faced crowd waited for the great event -of the day. A sudden terror seized Frithiof that some one would come to -their end of the steamer and break the spell that bound him, and then -the very fear itself made him realize that this was no dream, but a -great reality. Cecil was beside him, and he loved her—a new era had -begun in his life. He loved her, and grudged whatever could interfere -with that strange sense of nearness to her and of bliss in the -consciousness which had suddenly changed his whole world. - -But no one came near them. Still they stood there—side by side, and the -steamer moved on peacefully once more, the silvery track still marking -the calm fjord till they reached the little boat that was to land them -at Naes. He wished that they could have gone on for hours, for as yet -the mere consciousness of his own love satisfied him—he wanted nothing -but the rapture of life after death—of brightness after gloom. When it -was no longer possible to prolong that strange, weird calm, he went, -like a man half awake, to see after the luggage, and presently, with an -odd, dazzled feeling found himself on the shore, where Herr Lossius, the -landlord, stood to welcome them. - -“Which is the hotel?” asked Roy. - -And Herr Lossius replied in his quaint, careful English, “It is yonder, -sir—that house just under the moon.” - -“Did you ever hear such a poetical direction?” said Cecil, smiling as -they walked up the road together. - -“It suits the evening very well,” said Frithiof. “I am glad he did not -say, ‘First turning to your right, second to your left, and keep -straight on,’ like a Londoner.” - -But the “house under the moon,” though comfortable enough, did not prove -a good sleeping-place. All the night long Frithiof lay broad awake in -his quaint room, and at length, weary of staring at the picture of the -stag painted on the window-blind, he drew it up and lay looking out at -the dark Romsdalshorn, for the bed was placed across the window, and -commanded a beautiful view. - -He could think of nothing but Cecil, of the strange, new insight that -had come to him so suddenly, of the marvel that, having known her so -long and so intimately, he had only just realized the beauty of her -character, with its tender, womanly grace, its quiet strength, its -steadfastness, and repose. Then came a wave of anxious doubt that drove -sleep farther than ever from him. It was no longer enough to be -conscious of his love for her. He began to wonder whether it was in the -least probable that she could ever care for him. Knowing the whole of -his past life, knowing his faults so well, was it likely that she would -ever dream of accepting his love? - -He fell into great despondency; but the recollection of that sweet, -bright glance which she had given him in reply to his impetuous burst of -gratitude, reassured him; and when, later on, he met her at breakfast -his doubts were held at bay, and his hopes raised, not by anything that -she did or said, but by her mere presence. - -Whether Sigrid at all guessed at the state of affairs and arranged -accordingly, or whether it was a mere chance, it so happened that for -the greater part of that day as they traveled through the beautiful -Romsdal, Frithiof and Cecil were together. - -“What will you do?” said Cecil to herself, “when all this is over? How -will you go back to ordinary life when the tour is ended!” - -But though she tried in this way to take the edge off her pleasure, she -could not do it. Afterward might take care of itself. There was no -possibility of realizing it now, she would enjoy to the full just the -present that was hers, the long talks with Frithiof, the delightful -sense of fellowship with him, the mutual enjoyment of that exquisite -valley. - -And so they drove on, past Aak, with its lovely trees and its rippling -river, past the lovely Romsdalshorn, past the Troltinderne, with their -weird outline looming up against the blue sky like the battlements and -pinnacles of some magic city. About the middle of the day they reached -Horgheim, where it had been arranged that they should spend the night. -Frithiof was in a mood to find everything beautiful; he even admired the -rather bare-looking posting-station, just a long, brown, wooden house -with a high flight of steps to the door and seats on either side. On the -doorstep lay a fine white and tabby cat, which he declared he could -remember years before when they had visited the Romsdal. - -“And that is very possible,” said the landlady, with a pleased look. -“For we have had him these fourteen years.” - -Every one crowded round to look at this antiquated cat. - -“What is his name?” asked Cecil, speaking in Norse. - -“His name is Mons,” said the landlady, “Mons Horgheim.” - -They all laughed at the thought of a cat with a surname, and then came a -general dispersion in quest of rooms. Cecil and Swanhild chose one which -looked out across a grassy slope to the river; the Rauma just at this -part is very still, and of a deep green color; beyond were jagged, gray -mountains and the moraine of a glacier covered here and there with birch -and juniper. Half-a-dozen little houses with grass-grown roofs nestled -at the foot, and near them were sweet-smelling hayfields and patches of -golden corn. - -They dined merrily on salmon, wild strawberries, and cream, and then a -walk was proposed. Cecil, however, excused herself, saying that she had -letters to write home, and so it chanced that Frithiof and Sigrid had -what did not often fall to their lot in those days, the chance of a -quiet talk. - -“What is wrong with you, dear old boy?” she said; for since they had -left Horgheim she could not but notice that he had grown grave and -absorbed. - -“Nothing,” he said, with rather a forced laugh. But, though he tried to -resume his usual manner and talked with her and teased her playfully, -she knew that he had something on his mind, and half-hopefully, -half-fearfully, made one more attempt to win his confidence. - -“Let us rest here in the shade,” she said, settling herself comfortably -under a silver birch. “Roy and Swanhild walk at such a pace that I think -we will let them have the first view of the Mongefos.” - -He threw himself down on the grass beside her, and for a time there was -silence. - -“You did not sleep last night,” she said presently. - -“How do you know that?” he said, his color rising a little. - -“Oh, I know it by your forehead. You were worrying over something. Come, -confess.” - -He sat up and began to speak abruptly. - -“I want to ask you a question,” he said, looking up the valley beyond -her and avoiding her eyes. “Do you think a man has any business to offer -to a woman a love which is not his first passion?” - -“At one time I thought not,” said Sigrid. “But as I grew older and -understood things more it seemed to me different. I think there would be -few marriages in the world if we made a rule of that sort. And a woman -who really loved would lose sight of all selfishness and littleness and -jealousy just because of the strength of her love.” - -He turned and looked straight into her eyes. - -“And if I were to tell Cecil that I loved her, do you think she would at -any rate listen to me?” - -“I am not going to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to that question,” said Sigrid, -suddenly bending forward and giving him a kiss—a salute almost unknown -between a Norwegian brother and sister. “But I will say instead ‘Go and -try.’” - -“You think then—” - -She sprang to her feet. - -“I don’t think at all,” she said laughingly. “Good-by. I am going to -meet the others at the Mongefos, and you—you are going back to Horgheim. -Adjö.” - -She waved her hand to him and walked resolutely away. He watched her out -of sight, then fell back again to his former position on the grass, and -thought. She had told him nothing and yet somehow had brought to him a -most wonderful sense of rest and peace. - -Presently he got up, and began to retrace his steps along the valley. - - - - - CHAPTER XL. - - -The afternoon was not so clear as the morning had been, yet it had a -beauty of its own which appealed to Frithiof very strongly. The blue sky -had changed to a soft pearly gray, all round him rose grave, majestic -mountains, their summits clear against the pale background, but wreaths -of white mist clinging about their sides in fantastic twists and curves -which bridged over huge yawning chasms and seemed to join the valley -into a great amphitheater. The stern gray and purple rocks looked hardly -real, so softened were they by the luminous summer haze. Here and there -the white snow gleamed coldly in long deep crevices, or in broad clefts -where from year’s end to year’s end it remained unmelted by sun or rain. -On each side of the road there was a wilderness of birch and fir and -juniper bushes, while in the far distance could be heard the Mongefos -with its ceaseless sound of many waters, repeated on either hand by the -smaller waterfalls. Other sound there was none save the faint tinkle of -cowbells or the rare song of the little black and white wagtails, which -seemed the only birds in the valley. - -Suddenly he perceived a little further along the road a slim figure -leaning against the fence, the folds of a blue dress, the gleam of -light-brown hair under a sealskin traveling cap. His heart began to beat -fast, he strode on more quickly, and Cecil, hearing footsteps, looked -up. - -“I had finished my letter and thought I would come out to explore a -little,” she said, as he joined her. “You have come back?” - -“Yes,” he said, “I have come back to you.” - -She glanced at him questioningly, startled by his tone, but before his -eager look her eyelids dropped, and a soft glow of color suffused her -face. - -“Cecil,” he said, “do you remember what you said years ago about men who -worked hard to make their fortune and then retired and were miserable -because they had nothing to do?” - -“Oh yes,” she said, “I remember it very well, and have often seen -instances of it.” - -“I am like that now,” he continued. “My work seems over, and I stand at -the threshold of a new life. It was you who saved me from ruin in my old -life—will you be my helper now?” - -“Do you think I really could help?” she said wistfully. - -He looked at her gentle eyes, at her pure, womanly face, and he knew -that his life was in her hands. - -“I do not know,” he said gravely. “It depends on whether you could love -me—whether you will let me speak of my love for you.” - -Then, as he paused, partly because his English words would not come very -readily, partly in hope of some sign of encouragement from her, she -turned to him with a face which shone with heavenly light. - -“There must never be any secrets between us,” she said, speaking quite -simply and directly. “I have loved you ever since you first came to -us—years ago.” - -It was nothing to Frithiof that they were standing at the side of the -king’s highway—he had lost all sense of time and place—the world only -contained for him the woman who loved him—the woman who let him clasp -her in his strong arm—let him press her sweet face to his. - -And still from the distance came the sound of many waters, and the faint -tinkle of the cowbells, and the song of the little black and white -birds. The grave gray mountains seemed like strong and kindly friends -who sheltered them and shut them in from all intrusion of the outer -world, but they were so entirely absorbed in each other that they had -not a thought of anything else. - -“With you I shall have courage to begin life afresh,” he said, after a -time. “To have the right to love you—to be always with you—that will be -everything to me.” - -And then as he thought of her true-hearted confession, he tried to -understand a little better the unseen ordering of his life, and he loved -to think that those weary years had been wasted neither on him nor on -Cecil herself. He could not for one moment doubt that her pure, -unselfish love had again and again shielded him from evil, that all -through his English life, with its hard struggles and bitter sufferings, -her love had in some unknown way been his safeguard, and that his life, -crippled by the faithlessness of a woman, had by a woman also been -redeemed. All his old morbid craving for death had gone; he eagerly -desired a long life, that he might live with her, work for her, shield -her from care, fill up, to the best of his power, what was incomplete in -her life. - -“I shall have a postscript to add to my letter,” said Cecil presently, -looking up at him with the radiant smile which he so loved to see on her -lips. “What a very feminine one it will be! We say, you know, in -England, that a woman’s postscript is the most important part of her -letter.” - -“Will your father and mother ever spare you to me?” said Frithiof. - -“They will certainly welcome you as their son,” she replied. - -“And Mr. and Mrs. Horner?” suggested Frithiof mischievously. - -But at the thought of the consternation of her worthy cousins Cecil -could do nothing but laugh. - -“Never mind,” she said, “they have always disapproved of me as much as -they have of you; they will perhaps say that it is, after all, a highly -suitable arrangement!” - -“I wonder whether Swanhild will say the same?” said Frithiof with a -smile; “here she comes, hurrying home alone. Will you wait by the river -and let me just tell her my good news?” - -He walked along the road to meet his sister, who, spite of added years -and inches, still retained much of her childlikeness. - -“Why are you all alone?” he said. - -“Oh, there is no fun,” said Swanhild. “When Roy and Sigrid are out on a -holiday they are just like lovers, so I came back to you.” - -“What will you say when I tell you that I am betrothed,” he said -teasingly. - -She looked up in his face with some alarm. - -“You are only making fun of me,” she protested. - -“On the contrary, I am stating the most serious of facts. Come, I want -your congratulations.” - -“But who are you betrothed to?” asked Swanhild, bewildered. “Can it be -to Madale? And, oh dear, what a horrid time to choose for it—you will be -just no good at all. I really do think you might have waited till the -end of the tour.” - -“It might possibly have been managed if you had spoken sooner,” said -Frithiof, with mock gravity, “but you come too late—the deed is done.” - -“Well, I shall have Cecil to talk to, so after all it doesn’t much -matter,” said Swanhild graciously. - -“But, unfortunately, she also has become betrothed,” said Frithiof, -watching the bewildered little face with keen pleasure, and seeing the -light of perception suddenly dawn on it. - -Swanhild caught his hand in hers. - -“You don’t mean—” she began. - -“Oh yes,” cried Frithiof, “but I do mean it very much indeed. Come,” and -he hurried her down the grassy slope to the river. “I shall tell Cecil -every word you have been saying.” Then, as she rose to meet them, he -said with a laugh, “This selfish child thinks we might have put it off -till the end of the tour for her special benefit.” - -“No, no,” cried Swanhild, flying toward Cecil with outstretched arms. “I -never knew it was to you he was betrothed—and you could never be that -horrid, moony kind who are always sitting alone together in corners.” - -At which ingenuous congratulations they all laughed so immoderately that -Mons Horgheim the cat was roused from his afternoon nap on the steps of -the station, and after a preliminary stretch strolled down toward the -river to see what was the matter, and to bring the sobriety and -accumulated wisdom of his fourteen years to bear upon the situation. - -“Ah, well,” said Swanhild, with a comical gesture, “there is clearly -nothing for me but, as they say in Italy, to stay at home and nurse the -cat.” - -And catching up the astonished Mons, she danced away, eager to be the -first to tell the good news to Roy and Sigrid. - -“It will be really very convenient,” she remarked, to the infinite -amusement of her elders. “We shall not lose Frithiof at all; he will -only have to move across to Rowan Tree House.” - -And ultimately that was how matters arranged themselves, so that the -house which had sheltered Frithiof in his time of trouble became his -home in this time of his prosperity. - -He had not rushed all at once into full light and complete manhood and -lasting happiness. Very slowly, very gradually, the life that had been -plunged in darkness had emerged into faint twilight as he had struggled -to redeem his father’s name; then, by degrees, the brightness of dawn -had increased, and, sometimes helped, sometimes hindered by the lives -which had come into contact with his own, he had at length emerged into -clearer light, till, after long waiting, the sun had indeed risen. - -As Swanhild had prophesied, they were by no means selfish lovers, and, -far from spoiling the tour, their happiness did much to add to its -success. - -Cecil hardly knew which part of it was most delightful to her, the -return of Molde and the pilgrimage to the quaint little jeweler’s shop -where they chose two plain gold betrothal rings such as are always used -in Norway; or the merry journey to the Geiranger; or the quiet days at -Oldören, in that lovely valley with the river curving and bending its -way between wooded banks, and the rampart of grand, craggy mountains -with snowy peaks, her own special mountain, as Frithiof called -Cecilienkrone, dominating all. - -It was at Oldören that she saw for the first time one of the prettiest -sights in Norway—a country wedding. The charming bride, Pernilla, in her -silver-gilt crown and bridal ornaments, had her heartiest sympathy, and -Frithiof, happening to catch sight of the fiddler standing idly by the -churchyard gate when the ceremony was over, brought him into the hotel -and set every one dancing. Anna Rasmusen, the clever and charming -manager of the inn, volunteered to try the _spring dans_ with Halfstan, -the guide. The hamlet was searched for dancers of the _halling_, and the -women showed them the pretty _jelster_ and the _tretur_. - -By degrees all the population of the place crowded in as spectators, and -soon Johannes and Pernilla, the bride and bridegroom, made their way -through the throng, and, each carrying a decanter, approached the -visitors, shook hands with them, and begged that they would drink their -health. There was something strangely simple and charming about the -whole thing. Such a scene could have been found in no other country save -in grand, free old Norway, where false standards of worth are abolished, -and where mutual respect and equal rights bind each to each in true -brotherhood. - -The day after the wedding they spent at the Brixdals glacier, rowing all -together up the lake, but afterward separating, Frithiof and Cecil -walking in advance of the others up the beautiful valley. - -“There will soon be a high-road to this glacier,” said Frithiof, “but I -am glad they are only beginning it now, and that we have this rough -path.” - -And Cecil was glad too. She liked the scramble and the little bit of -climbing needed here and there; she loved to feel the strength and -protection of Frithiof’s hand as he led her over the rocks and bowlders. -At last, after a long walk, they reached a smooth, grassy oasis, shaded -by silver birches and bordered by a river, beyond, the Brixdalsbrae -gleamed white through the trees, with here and there exquisite shades of -blue visible in the ice even at that distance. - -“This is just like the Land of Beulah,” said Cecil, smiling, “and the -glacier is the celestial city. How wonderful those broken pinnacles of -ice are!” - -“Look at these two little streams running side by side for so long and -at last joining,” said Frithiof. “They are like our two lives. For so -many years you have been to me as we should say _fortrölig_.” - -“What does that mean?” she asked. - -“It is untranslatable,” he said. “It is that in which one puts one’s -trust and confidence, but more besides. It means exactly what you have -always been to me.” - -Cecil looked down at the little bunch of forget-me-nots and lilies of -the valley—the Norwegian national flowers with which Frithiof loved to -keep her supplied—and the remembrance of all that she had borne during -these five years came back to her, and by contrast made the happy -present yet sweeter. - -“I think,” she said, “I should like Signor Donati to know of our -happiness; he was the first who quite understood you.” - -“Yes, I must write to him,” said Frithiof. “There is no man to whom I -owe more.” - -And thinking of the Italian’s life and character and of his own past, he -grew silent. - -“Do you know,” he said at length, “there is one thing I want you to do -for me. I want you to give me back my regard for the Sogne once more. I -want, on our way home, just to pass Balholm again.” - -And so one day it happened that they found themselves on the -well-remembered fjord, and coming up on deck when dinner was over, saw -that already the familiar scenes of the Frithiof saga were coming into -view. - -“Look! look!” said Frithiof. “There, far in front of us is the -Kvinnafos, looking like a thread of white on the dark rock; and over to -the right is Framnaes!” - -Cecil stood beside him on the upper deck, and gradually the scene -unfolded. They saw the little wooded peninsula, the lovely mountains -round the Fjaerlands fjord, Munkeggen itself, with much more snow than -during their last visit, and then, once again, King Bele’s grave, and -the scattered cottages, with their red-tiled roofs, and the familiar -hotel, somewhat enlarged, yet recalling a hundred memories. - -Gravely and thoughtfully Frithiof looked on the little hamlet and on -Munkeggen. It was a picture that had been traced on his mind by pleasure -and engraved by pain. Cecil drew a little nearer to him, and though no -word passed between them, yet intuitively their thoughts turned to one -who must ever be associated with those bright days spent in the house of -Ole Kvikne long ago. There was no indignation in their thoughts of her, -but there was pain, and pity, and hope, and the love which is at once -the source and the outcome of forgiveness. They wondered much how -matters stood with her out in the far-off southern seas, where she -struggled on in a new life, which must always, to the very end, be -shadowed by the old. And then Frithiof thought of his father, of his own -youth, of the wonderful glamor and gladness that had been doomed so soon -to pass into total eclipse, and feeling like some returned ghost, he -glided close by the flagstaff, and the gray rocks, and the trees which -had sheltered his farewell to Blanche. A strange and altogether -indescribable feeling stole over him, but it was speedily dispelled. -There was a link which happily bound his past to his present—a memory -which nothing could spoil—on the quay he instantly perceived the -well-remembered faces of the kindly landlord, Ole Kvikne, and his -brother Knut. - -“See!” she exclaimed with a smile, “there are the Kviknes looking not a -day older! We must see if they remember us.” - -Did they not remember? Of course they did! And what bowing and -hand-shaking went on in the brief waiting time. They had heard of -Frithiof, moreover, and knew how nobly he had redeemed his father’s -name. They were enchanted at meeting him once more. - -“Let me have the pleasure, Kvikne, to introduce to you my betrothed, who -was also your guest long ago,” said Frithiof, taking Cecil’s hand and -placing it in that of the landlord. - -And the warm congratulations and hearty good wishes of Ole and Knut -Kvikne were only cut short by the bell, which warned the travelers that -they must hasten up the gangway. - -“We shall come back,” said Frithiof. “Another summer we shall stay with -you.” - -“Yes,” said Cecil. “After all there is nothing equal to Balholm. I had -forgotten how lovely it was.” - -As they glided on they left the little place bathed in sunshine, and in -silence they watched it, till at last a bend in the fjord hid it from -view. - -Frithiof fell into deep thought. - -What part had that passionate first love of his played in his -life-story? Well, it had been to him a curse; it had dragged him down -into depths of despair and to the verge of vice; it had steeped him in -bitterness and filled his heart with anguish. Yet a more perfect love -had awaited him—a passion less fierce but more tender, less vehement but -more lasting; and all those years Cecil’s heart had really been his, -though he had so little dreamed of it. - -As if in a picture, he saw the stages through which he had passed—the -rapture of mere physical existence; the intolerable pain and humiliation -of Blanche’s betrayal; the anguish of bereavement; the shame of -bankruptcy; the long effort to pay the debts; the slow return to belief -in human beings; the toilsome steps that had each brought him a clearer -knowledge of the Unseen, for which he had once felt no need; and, -finally, this wonderful love springing up like a fountain in his life, -ready to gladden his somewhat prosaic round of daily work. - -It was evening when they left the steamer at Sogndal, but they were none -of them in a mood for settling down, and indeed the weather was so hot -that they often preferred traveling after supper. So it was arranged -that they should go on to a very primitive little place called -Hillestad, sleep there for a few hours, and then proceed to the Lyster -fjord. Cecil, who was a much better walker than either Sigrid or -Swanhild, was to go on foot with Frithiof; the others secured a -stolkjaerre and a carriole, and went on in advance with the luggage. - -The two lovers walked briskly along the side of the fjord, but slackened -their pace when they reached the long, sandy hill, with its sharp -zigzags; the evening was still and cloudless; above them towered huge, -rocky cliffs, partly veiled by undergrowth, and all the air was sweet -with the scent of the pine trees. They were close to St. Olaf’s well, -where, from time immemorial, the country people have come to drink and -pray for recovery from illness. - -“Don’t you think we ought to drink to my future health,” said Frithiof. - -He smiled, yet in his eyes she saw all the time the look of sadness that -had come to him as they approached Balholm. - -The one sting in his perfect happiness was the thought that he could not -bring to Cecil the unbroken health that had once been his. He knew that -the strain of his passed trouble had left upon him marks which he must -carry to his grave, and that the consequences of Blanche’s faithlessness -had brought with them a secret anxiety which must to some extent shadow -Cecil’s life. The knowledge was hard: it humiliated him. - -Cecil knew him so well that she read his thoughts in an instant. - -“Look at all these little crosses set up in the moss on this rock!” she -exclaimed when they had scrambled up the steep ascent. “I wonder how -many hundreds of years this has been the custom? I wonder how many -troubled people have come here to drink?” - -“And have gained nothing by their superstition?” said Frithiof. - -“It was superstition,” she said thoughtfully. “And yet, perhaps, the -sight of the cross and the drinking of the water at least helped them to -new thoughts of suffering and of life. Who knows, perhaps some of them -went away able to glory in their infirmities?” - -He did not speak for some minutes, but stood lost in the train of -thought suggested to him by her words. The sadness gradually died out of -his face, and she quite understood that it was with no trace of -superstition, but merely as a sign of gratitude for a thought which had -helped him, that he took two little straight twigs, stooped to drink -from St. Olafskilde, and then set up his cross among the others in the -mossy wall. After that they clambered down over the bowlders into the -sandy road once more, and climbed the steep hill leisurely, planning -many things for the future—the rooms in Rowan Tree House, the little -wooden cottage that they meant to build at Gödesund, three hours by -water from Bergen, on a tiny island, which might be bought at a trifling -cost; the bright holiday weeks that they would spend there; the work -they might share; the efforts they might make together in their London -life. - -But the sharp contrast between this pictured future and the actual past -could hardly fail to strike one of Frithiof’s temperament; it was the -thought of this which prompted him to speak as they paused to rest on -the wooded heights above Hillestad. - -“I almost wonder,” he said, “that you have courage to marry such an -ill-starred fellow as I have always proved to be. You are very brave to -take the risk.” - -She answered him only with her eyes. - -“So,” he said with a smile, “you think, perhaps, after all the troubles -there must be a good time coming?” - -“That may very well be,” she replied, “but now that we belong to each -other outer things matter little.” - -“Do you remember the lines about Norway in the Princess?” he said. “Your -love has made them true for me.” - -“Say them now,” she said; “I have forgotten,” - -And, looking out over the ruddy sky where, in this night hour, the glow -of sunset mingled with the glow of dawn, he quoted the words: - - “I was one - To whom the touch of all mischance but came - As night to him that sitting on a hill - Sees the midsummer, midnight, Norway sun - Set into sunrise.” - -She followed the direction of his gaze and looked, through the fir-trees -on the hill upon which they were resting, down to the lovely lake which -lay below them like a sheet of mother-of-pearl in the tranquil light. -She looked beyond to the grand cliff-like mountains with their snowy -tops touched here and there into the most exquisite rose-color by the -rising sun; and then she turned back to the strong Norse face with its -clearly cut features, its look of strength, and independence, and noble -courage, and her heart throbbed with joy as she thought how foreign to -it was that hard, bitter expression of the past. As he repeated the -words “Set into sunrise” his eyes met hers fully; all the tenderness and -strength of his nature and an infinite promise of future possibilities -seemed to strike down into her very soul in that glance. He drew her -toward him, and over both of them there stole the strange calm which is -sometimes the outcome of strong feeling. - -All nature seemed full of perfect peace; and with the sight of those -snowy mountains and the familiar scent of the pines to tell him that he -was indeed in his own country, with Cecil’s loving presence to assure -him of his new possession, and with a peace in his heart which had first -come to him in bitter humiliation and trouble, Frithiof, too, was at -rest. - -After all, what were the possible trials that lay before them? What was -all earthly pain? Looked at in a true light, suffering seemed, indeed, -but as this brief northern night, and death but as the herald of eternal -day. - - * * * * * - -“Cecil,” said Frithiof, looking again into her sweet, grave eyes, “who -would have thought that the _Linnæa_ gathered all those years ago should -prove the first link in the chain that was to bind us together forever?” - -“It was strange,” she replied, with a smile, as she gathered one of the -long trails growing close by and looked at the lovely little white bells -with their pink veins. - -He took it from her, and began to twine it in her hair. - -“I didn’t expect to find it here,” he said, “and brought a fine plant of -it from Nord fjord. We must take it home with us that you may have some -for your bridal wreath.” - -She made a little exclamation of doubt. - -“Why, Frithiof? How long do you think it will go on flowering?” - -“For another month,” he said, taking her glowing face between his hands -and stooping to kiss her. - -“Only a month!” she faltered. - -“Surely that will be long enough to read the banns?” he said, with a -smile. “And you really ought not to keep the _Linnæa_ waiting a day -longer.” - - - - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - -Transcriber’s note: - - 1. Added table of CONTENTS. - - 2. Changed “keep him from taking” to “keep him from talking” on p. 173. - - 3. Changed “be better of” to “be better off” on p. 194. - - 4. The publisher often used “ö” instead of “ø”. - - 5. “Björnsen”, “Bjornsen”, and “Bjornson” are all likely references to - the author “Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson”. - - 6. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed. - - 7. Retained poetry as printed. - - 8. Silently corrected typographical errors. - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A HARDY NORSEMAN*** - - -******* This file should be named 55825-0.txt or 55825-0.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/5/8/2/55825 - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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} - hr.full { width: 100%; - margin-top: 3em; - margin-bottom: 0em; - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; - height: 4px; - border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ - border-style: solid; - border-color: #000000; - clear: both; } - </style> -</head> -<body> -<h1 class="pg">The Project Gutenberg eBook, A Hardy Norseman, by Edna Lyall</h1> -<p>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States -and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no -restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it -under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this -eBook or online at <a -href="http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you are not -located in the United States, you'll have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this ebook.</p> -<p>Title: A Hardy Norseman</p> -<p>Author: Edna Lyall</p> -<p>Release Date: October 27, 2017 [eBook #55825]</p> -<p>Language: English</p> -<p>Character set encoding: UTF-8</p> -<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A HARDY NORSEMAN***</p> -<p> </p> -<h4>E-text prepared by Richard Tonsing, MFR,<br /> - and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> - (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br /> - from page images generously made available by<br /> - Internet Archive<br /> - (<a href="https://archive.org">https://archive.org</a>)</h4> -<p> </p> -<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;margin: 0 auto;" cellpadding="10"> - <tr> - <td valign="top"> - Note: - </td> - <td> - Images of the original pages are available through - Internet Archive. See - <a href="https://archive.org/details/hardynorseman00lyal"> - https://archive.org/details/hardynorseman00lyal</a> - </td> - </tr> -</table> -<p> </p> -<hr class="full" /> - -<div> - <h1 class='c001'>A Hardy Norseman</h1> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div>By</div> - <div class='c003'><span class='xlarge'>Edna Lyall</span></div> - <div><span class='small'>Author of “Donovan,” “Knight Errant,” Etc.</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/title_page.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>Chicago</div> - <div><span class='large'>Donohue, Henneberry & Co.</span></div> - <div>Publishers</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/i_002.jpg' alt='PRINTED AND BOUND BY DONOHUE & HENNEBERRY CHICAGO' class='ig001' /> -</div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c004' /> -</div> -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='CONTENTS' class='c005'>CONTENTS</h2> -</div> -<div class='lg-container-b c006'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><a href='#I'>CHAPTER I.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#II'>CHAPTER II.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#III'>CHAPTER III.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#IV'>CHAPTER IV.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#V'>CHAPTER V.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#VI'>CHAPTER VI.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#VII'>CHAPTER VII.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#VIII'>CHAPTER VIII.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#IX'>CHAPTER IX.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#X'>CHAPTER X.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XI'>CHAPTER XI.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XII'>CHAPTER XII.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XIII'>CHAPTER XIII.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XIV'>CHAPTER XIV.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XV'>CHAPTER XV.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XVI'>CHAPTER XVI.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XVII'>CHAPTER XVII.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XVIII'>CHAPTER XVIII.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XIX'>CHAPTER XIX.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XX'>CHAPTER XX.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XXI'>CHAPTER XXI.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XXII'>CHAPTER XXII.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XXIII'>CHAPTER XXIII.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XXIV'>CHAPTER XXIV.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XXV'>CHAPTER XXV.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XXVI'>CHAPTER XXVI.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XXVII'>CHAPTER XXVII.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XXVIII'>CHAPTER XXVIII.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XXIX'>CHAPTER XXIX.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XXX'>CHAPTER XXX.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XXXI'>CHAPTER XXXI.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XXXII'>CHAPTER XXXII.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XXXIII'>CHAPTER XXXIII.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XXXIV'>CHAPTER XXXIV.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XXXV'>CHAPTER XXXV.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XXXVI'>CHAPTER XXXVI.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XXXVII'>CHAPTER XXXVII.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XXXVIII'>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XXXIX'>CHAPTER XXXIX.</a></div> - <div class='line'><a href='#XL'>CHAPTER XL.</a></div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c003' /> -</div> - -<div class='ph1'> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c004'> - <div>A HARDY NORSEMAN.</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span> - <h2 id='I' class='c005'>CHAPTER I.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>“You say your things are all ready, Cecil? Then I’ll just -go below and do up my Gladstone, and put it in your cabin. -We shall be at Bergen before long, they say.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The speaker was a young Englishman of three-or-four-and-twenty, -and the sister addressed by him was still in the first -flush of girlhood, having but a few days before celebrated her -nineteenth birthday.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Let me see to your bag, Roy,” she exclaimed. “It is a -shame that you should miss this lovely bit of the fjord, and I -shall do it in half the time.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The conceit of women!” he exclaimed, with a smile in -which brotherly love and the spirit of teasing were about -equally blended. “No, no, Cis, I’m not going to let you -spoil me. I shall be up again in ten minutes. Have you not -made any friends here? Is there no one on deck you can -talk to?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t want to talk,” said Cecil. “Truth to tell, I am -longing to get away from all these English people. Very unsociable -of me, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Roy Boniface turned away with a smile, understanding her -feeling well enough, and Cecil, with her back to the chattering -tourist throng, let her eyes roam over the shining waters of the -fjord to the craggy mountains on the further shore, whose ever-varying -forms had been delighting her since the early morning.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She herself made a fair picture, though her beauty was not -of the order which quickly draws attention. There was nothing -very striking in her regular features, fair complexion, and -light-brown hair; to a casual observer she would have seemed -merely an average English girl, gentle, well-mannered, and nice-looking. -It was only to those who took pains to study her that -her true nature was revealed; only at times that her quiet gray -eyes would flash into sudden beauty with the pleasure of meeting -<span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span>with some rare and unexpected sympathy; only in some -special need that the force of her naturally retiring nature -made itself felt as a great influence.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil had passed a year of emancipated girlhood, she had for -a whole year been her own mistress, had had time and money -at her disposal and no special duties to take the place of her -school-work. It was the time she had been looking forward -to all her life, the blissful time of grown-up freedom, and -now that it had come it had proved a disappointing illusion. -Whether the fault was in herself or in her circumstances she -did not know; but like so many girls of her age she was looking -out on life with puzzled eyes, hardly knowing what it was -that had gone amiss, yet conscious of a great want, of a great -unrest, of a vague dissatisfaction which would not be reasoned -down.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Cecil is looking poorly,” had been the home verdict; and -the mother, not fully understanding the cause, but with a true -instinct as to the remedy, had suggested that the brother and -sister should spend a month abroad, grieving to lose Cecil from -the usual family visit to the seaside, but perceiving with a -mother’s wisdom and unselfishness that it was time, as she -expressed it, for her young one to try its wings.</p> - -<p class='c000'>So the big steamer plied its way up the fjord bearing Cecil -Boniface and her small troubles and perplexities to healthy old -Norway, to gain there fresh physical strength, and fresh insights -into that puzzling thing called life; to make friendships, spite -of her avowed unsociableness, to learn something more of the -beauty of beauty, the joy of joy, and the pain of pain.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She was no student of human nature; at present with girlish -impatience she turned away from the tourists, frankly avowing -her conviction that they were a bore. She was willing to -let her fancy roam to the fortunes of some imaginary Rolf and -Erica living, perhaps, in some one or other of the solitary red-roofed -cottages to be seen now and then on the mountain-side; -but the average English life displayed on the deck did not in -the least awaken her sympathies, she merely classified the passengers -into rough groups and dismissed them from her mind. -There was the photographic group, fraternizing over the cameras -set up all in a little encampment at the forecastle end. -There was the clerical group, which had for its center no fewer -than five gaitered bishops. There was the sporting group, distinguished -by light-brown checked suits, and comfortable traveling-caps. -There was the usual sprinkling of pale, weary, -overworked men and women come for a much-needed rest. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>And there was the flirting group—a notably small one, however, -for Norwegian traveling is rough work and is ill-suited -to this genus.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Look, here, Blanche,” exclaimed a gray-bearded Englishman, -approaching a pretty little brunette who had a most sweet -and winsome expression, and who was standing so near to the -camp-stool on which Cecil had ensconced herself that the conversation -was quite audible to her. “Just see if you can’t -make out this writing; your eyes are better than mine. It is -from Herr Falck, the Norwegian agent for our firm. I dare -say your father told you about him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, papa said he was one of the leading merchants out -here and would advise us what to see, and where to go.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Quite so. This letter reached me just as I was leaving home, -and is to say that Herr Falck has taken rooms for us at some -hotel. I can read it all well enough except the names, but the -fellow makes such outrageous flourishes. What do you make -of this sentence, beginning with ‘My son Frithiof’?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Uncle! uncle! what shocking pronunciation! You must -not put in an English ‘th.’ Did you never hear of the Frithiof -Saga? You must say it quickly like this—Freet-Yoff.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“A most romantic name,” said Mr. Morgan. “Now I see -why you have been so industrious over your Norwegian lessons. -You mean to carry on a desperate flirtation with -Herr Frithiof. Oh! that is quite clear—I shall be on the -lookout!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Blanche laughed, not at all resenting the remark, though she -bent her pretty face over the letter, and pretended to have -great difficulty in reading Herr Falck’s very excellent English.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you want to hear this sentence?” she said, “because if -you do I’ll read it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“‘My son Frithiof will do himself the honor to await your -arrival at Bergen on the landing-quay, and will drive you to -Holdt’s Hotel, where we have procured the rooms you desired. -My daughter Sigrid (See-gree) is eager to make the acquaintance -of your daughter and your niece, and if you will all dine -with us at two o’clock on Friday at my villa in Kalvedalen we -shall esteem it a great pleasure.’”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Two-o’clock dinner!” exclaimed Florence Morgan, for the -first time joining in the general conversation. “What an unheard-of -hour!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh! everything is primitive simplicity out here,” said Mr. -Morgan. “You needn’t expect London fashions.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I suppose Frithiof Falck will be a sort of young Viking, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>large-boned and dignified, with a kind of good-natured fierceness -about him,” said Blanche, folding the letter.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, no,” said Florence, “he’ll be a shy, stupid country -bumpkin, afraid of airing his bad English, and you will step -valiantly into the breach with your fluent Norwegian, and your -kindness will win his heart. Then presently he will come up -in his artless and primitive way with a <i><span lang="no" xml:lang="no">Vaer saa god</span></i> (if you -please) and will take your hand. You will reply <i><span lang="no" xml:lang="no">Mange tak</span></i> -(many thanks), and we shall all joyfully dance at your -wedding.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>There was general laughter, and some trifling bets were -made upon the vexed question of Frithiof Falck’s appearance.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well,” said Mr. Morgan, “it’s all very well to laugh now, -but I hope you’ll be civil to the Falcks when we really meet. -And as to you, Cyril,” he continued, turning to his nephew, a -limp-looking young man of one-and-twenty, “get all the information -you can out of young Falck, but on no account allow -him to know that your father is seriously thinking of setting -you at the head of the proposed branch at Stavanger. When -that does come about, of course Herr Falck will lose our custom, -and no doubt it will be a blow to him; so mind you don’t -breathe a word about it, nor you either, girls. We don’t want -to spoil our holiday with business matters, and besides, one -should always consider other people’s feelings.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil set her teeth and the color rose to her cheeks; she -moved away to the other side of the deck that she might not -hear any more.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What hateful people! they don’t care a bit for the kindness -and hospitality of these Norwegians. They only mean just -to use them as a convenience.” Then as her brother rejoined -her she exclaimed, “Roy, who are those vulgar people over on -the other side?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“With two pretty girls in blue ulsters? I think the name is -Morgan, rich city people. The old man’s not bad, but the -young one’s a born snob. What do you think I heard him -say as he was writing his name in the book and caught sight of -ours. ‘Why, Robert Boniface—that must be the music-shop -in Regent Street. Norway will soon be spoiled if all the cads -take to coming over.’ And there was I within two yards of -him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, Roy! he couldn’t have known or he would never have -said it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, yes, he knew it well enough. It was meant for a -snub, richly deserved by the presuming tradesman who dared -<span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span>to come to Norway for his holiday instead of eating shrimps at -Margate, as such cattle should, you know!” and Roy laughed -good-humoredly. Snubs had a way of gliding off him like -water off a duck’s back.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I should have hated it,” said Cecil. “What did you do?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Nothing; studied Baedeker with an imperturbable face, -and reflected sapiently with William of Wykeham that neither -birth nor calling but ‘manners makyth man.’ But look! this -must be Bergen. What a glorious view! If only you had time -to sketch it just from here!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil, after one quick exclamation of delight, was quite -silent, for indeed few people can see unmoved that exquisite -view which is unfolded before them as they round the fjord -and catch the first glimpse of the most beautiful town in Norway. -Had she been alone she would have allowed the tears -of happiness to come into her eyes, but being on a crowded -steamer she fought down her emotion and watched in a sort of -dream of delight the picturesque wooden houses, the red-tiled -roofs, the quaint towers and spires, the clear still fjord, with -its forest of masts and rigging, and the mountains rising steep -and sheer, encircling Bergen like so many hoary old giants -who had vowed to protect the town.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Meanwhile, the deck resounded with those comments which -are so very irritating to most lovers of scenery; one long-haired -æsthete gave vent to a fresh adjective of admiration -about once a minute, till Roy and Cecil were forced to flee -from him and to take refuge among the sporting fraternity, -who occasionally admitted frankly that it was “a fine view,” -but who obtruded their personality far less upon their companions.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, Roy, how we shall enjoy it all!” said Cecil, as they -drew near to the crowded landing-quay.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I think we shall fit in, Cis,” he said, smiling. “Thank -Heaven, you don’t take your pleasure after the manner of that -fellow. If I were his traveling companion I should throttle him -in a week.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Or suggest a muzzle,” said Cecil, laughing; “that would -save both his neck and your feelings.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Let me have your key,” he said, as they approached the -wooden pier; “the custom-house people will be coming on -board, and I will try to get our things looked over quickly. -Wait here and then I shall not miss you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He hastened away and Cecil scanned with curious eyes the -faces of the little crowd gathered on the landing-quay, till her -<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>attention was arrested by a young Norwegian in a light-gray -suit who stood laughing and talking to an acquaintance on the -wooden wharf. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with something -unusually erect and energetic in his bearing; his features -were of the pure Greek type not unfrequently to be met -with in Norway; while his northern birth was attested by a fair -skin and light hair and mustache, as well as by a pair of honest, -well-opened blue eyes which looked out on the world with a -boyish content and happiness.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I believe that is Frithiof Falck,” thought Cecil. And the -next moment her idea was confirmed, for as the connecting -gangway was raised from the quay, one of the steamer officials -greeted him by name, and the young Norwegian, replying in -very good English, stepped on board and began looking about -as if in search of some one. Involuntarily Cecil’s eyes followed -him; she had a strange feeling that in some way she knew him, -knew him far better than the people he had come to meet. -He, too, seemed affected in the same way, for he came -straight up to her, and, raising his hat and bowing, said, with -frank courtesy:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Pardon me, but am I speaking to Miss Morgan?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I think the Miss Morgans are at the other side of the gangway; -I saw them a minute ago,” she said, coloring a little.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“A thousand pardons for my mistake,” said Frithiof Falck. -“I came to meet this English family, you understand, but I -have never seen them.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There is Miss Morgan,” exclaimed Cecil; “that lady in a -blue ulster; and there is her uncle just joining her.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Many thanks for your kind help,” said Frithiof, and with -a second bow, and a smile from his frank eyes, he passed on -and approached Mr. Morgan.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Welcome to Norway, sir,” he exclaimed, greeting the traveler -with the easy, courteous manner peculiar to Norwegians. -“I hope you have made a good voyage.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, how do you do, Mr. Falck?” said the Englishman, -scanning him from head to foot as he shook hands, and speaking -very loud, as if the foreigner were deaf. “Very good of you -to meet us, I’m sure. My niece, Miss Blanche Morgan.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof bowed, and his heart began to beat fast as a pair of -most lovely dark-gray eyes gave him such a glance as he had -never before received.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My sister is much looking forward to the pleasure of making -your acquaintance,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ah!” exclaimed Blanche, “how beautifully you speak English! -<span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>And how you will laugh at me when I tell you that I -have been learning Norwegian for fear there should be dead -silence between us.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Indeed, there is nothing which pleases us so much as that -you should learn our tongue,” he said, smiling. “My English -is just now in its zenith, for I passed the winter with an English -clergyman at Hanover for the sake of improving it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But why not have come to England?” said Blanche.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, I had before that been with a German family at -Hanover to perfect myself in German, and I liked the place -well, and this Englishman was very pleasant, so I thought if I -stayed there it would be ‘to kill two flies with one dash,’ as we -say in Norway. When I come to England that will be for a -holiday, for nothing at all but pleasure.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Let me introduce my nephew,” said Mr. Morgan, as Cyril -strolled up. “And this is my daughter. How now, Florence, -have you found your boxes?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Allow me,” said Frithiof; “if you will tell me what to -look for I will see that the hotel porter takes it all.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>There was a general adjournment to the region of pushing -and confusion and luggage, and before long Frithiof had taken -the travelers to his father’s carriage, and they were driving -through the long, picturesque Strand-gaden. Very few vehicles -passed through this main street, but throngs of pedestrians -walked leisurely along or stood in groups talking and laughing, -the women chiefly wearing full skirts of dark-blue serge, short -jackets to match, and little round blue serge hoods surmounting -their clean white caps; the men also in dark-blue with broad -felt hats.</p> - -<p class='c000'>To English visitors there is an indescribable charm in the -primitive simplicity, the easy informality of the place: and -Frithiof was well content with the delighted exclamations of -the new-comers.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What charming ponies!” cried Blanche. “Look how oddly -their manes are cut—short manes and long tails! How funny! -we do just the opposite. And they all seem cream colored.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“This side, Blanche, quick! A lot of peasants in sabots! -and oh! just look at those lovely red gables!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How nice the people look, too, so different to people in an -English street. What makes you all so happy over here?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, what should make us unhappy?” said Frithiof. -“We love our country and our town, we are the freest people -in the world, and life is a great pleasure in itself, don’t you -think? But away in the mountains our people are much more -<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span>grave. Life is too lonely there. Here in Bergen it is perfection.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cyril Morgan regarded the speaker with a pitying eye, and -perhaps would have enlightened his absurd ignorance and discoursed -of Pall Mall and Piccadilly, had not they just then arrived -at Holdt’s Hotel. Frithiof merely waited to see that -they approved of their rooms, gave them the necessary information -as to bankers and lionizing, received Mr. Morgan’s assurance -that the whole party would dine at Herr Falck’s the -next day, and then, having previously dismissed the carriage, -set out at a brisker pace than usual on his walk home.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Blanche Morgan’s surprise at the happy-looking people -somehow amused him. Was it then an out-of-the-way thing -for people to enjoy life? For his own part mere existence -satisfied him. But then he was as yet quite unacquainted with -trouble. The death of his mother when he was only eleven -years old had been at the time a great grief, but it had in no -way clouded his after-life, he had been scarcely old enough to -realize the greatness of his loss. Its effect had been to make -him cling more closely to those who were left to him—to his -father, to his twin-sister Sigrid, and to the little baby Swanhild -(Svarnheel), whose birth had cost so much. The home life -was an extremely happy one to look back on, and now that his -year of absence was over and his education finished it seemed -to him that all was exactly as he would have it. Faintly in -the distance he looked forward to further success and happiness; -being a fervent patriot he hoped some day to be a king’s -minister—the summit of a Norwegian’s ambition; and being -human he had visions of an ideal wife and an ideal home of -his own. But the political career could very well wait, and the -wife too for the matter of that. And yet, as he walked rapidly -along Kong Oscars Gade, through the Stadsport, and past the -picturesque cemeteries which lie on either side of the road, he -saw nothing at all but a vision of the beautiful dark gray eyes -which had glanced up at him so often that afternoon, and in -his mind there echoed the words of one of Bjornson’s poems:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“To-day is just a day to my mind,</div> - <div class='line'>All sunny before and sunny behind,</div> - <div class='line in4'>Over the heather.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>But the ending of the poem he had quite forgotten.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span> - <h2 id='II' class='c005'>CHAPTER II.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>Herr Falck lived in one of the pretty, unpretentious houses -in Kalvedalen which are chiefly owned by the rich merchants -of Bergen. The house stood on the right-hand side of the -road, surrounded by a pretty little garden; it was painted a -light-brown color, and, like most Bergen houses, it was built -of wood. In the windows one could see flowers, and beyond -them white muslin curtains, for æstheticism had not yet penetrated -to Norway. The dark-tiled roof was outlined against a -wooded hill rising immediately behind, with here and there -gray rocks peeping through the summer green of the trees, -while in front the chief windows looked on to a pretty terrace -with carefully kept flower-beds, then down the wooded hill-side -to the lake below—the Lungegaardsvand with purple and gray -heights on the further shore, and on one side a break in the -chain of mountains and a lovely stretch of open country. To -the extreme left was the giant Ulriken, sometimes shining and -glistening, sometimes frowning and dark, but always beautiful; -while to the right you caught a glimpse of Bergen with its -quaint cathedral tower, and away in the distance the fjord like -a shining silver band in the sun.</p> - -<p class='c000'>As Frithiof walked along the grassy terrace he could hear -sounds of music floating from the house; some one was playing -a most inspiriting waltz, and as soon as he had reached the -open French window of his father’s study a quaint pair of dancers -became visible. A slim little girl of ten years old, with -very short petticoats, and very long golden hair braided into a -pigtail, held by the front paws a fine Esquimaux dog, who -seemed quite to enter into the fun and danced and capered most -cleverly, obediently keeping his long pointed nose over his partner’s -shoulder. The effect was so comical that Frithiof stood -laughingly by to watch the performance for fully half a minute, -then, unable to resist his own desire to dance, he unceremoniously -called Lillo the dog away and whirled off little Swanhild -in the rapid waltz which Norwegians delight in. The languid -grace of a London ball-room would have had no charms for -him; his dancing was full of fire and impetuosity, and Swanhild, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>too, danced very well; it had come to them both as -naturally as breathing.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“This is better than Lillo,” admitted the child. “Somehow -he’s so dreadful heavy to get round. Have the English -people come? What are they like?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, they’re middling,” said Frithiof, “all except the niece, -and she is charming.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Is she pretty?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Prettier than any one you ever saw in your life.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Not prettier than Sigrid?” said the little sister confidently.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Wait till you see,” said Frithiof. “She is a brunette and -perfectly lovely. There now!” as the music ceased, “Sigrid -has felt her left ear burning, and knows that we are speaking -evil of her. Let us come to confess.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>With his arms still round the child he entered the pretty -bright-looking room to the right. Sigrid was still at the piano, -but she had heard his voice and had turned round with eager -expectation in her face. The brother and sister were very much -alike; each had the same well-cut Greek features, but Frithiof’s -face was broader and stronger, and you could tell at a glance -that he was the more intellectual of the two. On the other -hand, Sigrid possessed a delightful fund of quiet common-sense, -and her judgment was seldom at fault, while, like most -Norwegian girls, she had a most charmingly simple manner, -and an unaffected light-heartedness which it did one good to see.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well! what news?” she exclaimed. “Have they come all -right? Are they nice?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Nice is not the word! charming! beautiful! To-morrow -you will see if I have spoken too strongly.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He says she is even prettier than you, Sigrid,” said Swanhild -mischievously. “Prettier than any one we ever saw!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She? Which of them?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Miss Blanche Morgan, the daughter of the head of the firm, -you know.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And the other one?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I hardly know. I didn’t look at her much; the others all -seemed to me much like ordinary English tourists. But she!—Well, -you will see to-morrow.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How I wish they were coming to-night! you make me quite -curious. And father seems so excited about their coming. I -have not seen him so much pleased about anything for a long -time.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Is he at home?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, he went for a walk; his head was bad again. That is -<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>the only thing that troubles me about him, his headaches seem -to have become almost chronic this last year.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>A shade came over her bright face, and Frithiof too, looked -grave.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He works very much too hard,” he said, “but as soon as -I come of age and am taken into partnership he will be more -free to take a thorough rest. At present I might just as well -be in Germany as far as work goes, for he will hardly let me do -anything to help him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Here he comes, here he comes!” cried Swanhild, who had -wandered away to the window, and with one accord they all -ran out to meet the head of the house, Lillo bounding on in -front and springing up at his master with a loving greeting.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Herr Falck was a very pleasant-looking man of about fifty; -he had the same well-chiseled features as Frithiof, the same -broad forehead, clearly marked, level brows, and flexible lips, -but his eyes had more of gray and less of blue in them, and -a practiced observer would have detected in their keen glance -an anxiety which could not wholly disguise itself. His hair -and whiskers were iron-gray, and he was an inch or two shorter -than his son. They all stood talking together at the door, the -English visitors still forming the staple of conversation, and the -anxiety giving place to eager hope in Herr Falck’s eyes as -Frithiof once more sung the praises of Blanche Morgan.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Have they formed any plan for their tour?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No; they mean to talk it over with you and get your advice. -They all professed to have a horror of Baedeker, though -even with your help I don’t think they will get far without -him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is certain that they will not want to stay very long in our -Bergen,” said Herr Falck, “the English never do. What -should you say now if you all took your summer outing at once -and settled down at Ulvik or Balholm for a few weeks, then -you would be able to see a little of our friends and could start -them well on their tour.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What a delightful plan, little father!” cried Sigrid; “only -you must come too, or we shall none of us enjoy it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I would run over for the Sunday, perhaps; that would be -as much as I could manage; but Frithiof will be there to take -care of you. What should you want with a careworn old man -like me, now that he is at home again?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You fish for compliments, little father,” said Sigrid, slipping -her arm within his and giving him one of those mute -caresses which are so much more eloquent than words. “But, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>quite between ourselves, though Frithiof is all very well, I -shant enjoy it a bit without you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, yes, father dear,” said Swanhild, “indeed you must -come, for Frithiof he will be just no good at all; he will be sure -to dance always with the pretty Miss Morgan, and to row her -about on the fjord all day, just as he did those pretty girls at -Norheimsund and Faleide.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The innocent earnestness of the child’s tone made them all -laugh, and Frithiof, vowing vengeance on her for her speech, -chased her round and round the garden, their laughter floating -back to Herr Falck and Sigrid as they entered the house.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The little minx!” said Herr Falck, “how innocently she -said it, too! I don’t think our boy is such a desperate flirt -though. As far as I remember, there was nothing more than a -sort of boy and girl friendship at either place.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh no,” said Sigrid, smiling. “Frithiof was too much of a -school-boy, every one liked him and he liked every one. I -don’t think he is the sort of man to fall in love easily.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No; but when it does come it will be a serious affair. I -very much wish to see him happily married.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, father! surely not yet. He is so young, we can’t spare -him yet.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Herr Falck threw himself back in his arm-chair, and mused -for a few minutes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“One need not necessarily lose him,” he replied, “and you -know, Sigrid, I am a believer in early marriages—at least for -my son; I will not say too much about you, little woman, for -as a matter of fact I don’t know how I should ever spare you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Don’t be afraid, little father; you may be very sure I shant -marry till I see a reasonable chance of being happier than I am -at home with you. And when will that be, do you think?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He stroked her golden hair tenderly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Not just yet, Sigrid, let us hope. Not just yet. As to our -Frithiof, shall I tell you of the palace in cloud-land I am building -for him?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Not that he should marry the pretty Miss Morgan, as Swanhild -calls her?” said Sigrid, with a strange sinking at the heart.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why not? I hear that she is a charming girl, both clever -and beautiful, and indeed it seems to me that he is quite disposed -to fall in love with her at first sight. Of course were -he not properly in love I should never wish him to marry, but -I own that a union between the two houses would be a great -pleasure to me—a great relief.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He sighed, and for the first time the anxious look in his eyes -<span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>attracted Sigrid’s notice. “Father, dear,” she exclaimed, “wont -you tell me what is troubling you? There is something, I -think. Tell me, little father.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He looked startled, and a slight flush spread over his face; but -when he spoke his voice was reassuring.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“A business man often has anxieties which can not be spoken -of, dear child. God knows they weigh lightly enough on some -men; I think I am growing old, Sigrid, and perhaps I have -never learned to take things so easily as most merchants do.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, father, you were only fifty last birthday; you must -not talk yet of growing old. How do other men learn, do you -think, to take things lightly?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“By refusing to listen to their own conscience,” said Herr -Falck, with sudden vehemence. “By allowing themselves to -hold one standard of honor in private life and a very different -standard in business transactions. Oh, Sigrid! I would give -a great deal to find some other opening for Frithiof. I dread -the life for him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you think it is really so hard to be strictly honorable in -business life? And yet it is a life that must be lived, and is it -not better that such a man as Frithiof should take it up—a -man with such a high sense of honor?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You don’t know what business men have to stand against,” -said Herr Falck. “Frithiof is a good, honest fellow, but as -yet he has seen nothing of life. And I tell you, child, we often -fail in our strongest point.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He rose from his chair and paced the room; it seemed to -Sigrid that a nameless shadow had fallen on their sunny home. -She was for the first time in her life afraid, though the fear was -vague and undefined.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But there, little one,” said her father, turning toward her -again. “You must not be worried. I get nervous and depressed, -that is all. As I told you, I am growing old.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Frithiof would like to help you more if you would let him,” -said Sigrid, rather wistfully. “He was saying so just now.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And so he shall in the autumn. He is a good lad, and if -all goes well I hope he will some day be my right hand in the -business; but I wish him to have a few months’ holiday first. -And there is this one thing, Sigrid, which I can tell you, if you -really want to know about my anxieties.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Indeed I do, little father,” she said eagerly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There are matters which you would not understand even -could I speak of them; but you know, of course, that I am -agent in Norway for the firm of Morgan Brothers. Well, a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>rumor has reached me that they intend to break off the connection -and to send out the eldest son to set up a branch at Stavanger. -It is a mere rumor and reached me quite accidentally. -I very much hope it may not be true, but there is no denying -that Stavanger would be in most ways better suited for their -purpose; in fact, the friend who told me of the rumor said that -they felt now that it had been a mistake all along to have the -agency here and they had only done it because they knew Bergen -and knew me.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why is Stavanger a better place for it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is better because most of the salmon and lobsters are -caught in the neighborhood of Stavanger, and all the mackerel -too to the south of Bergen. I very much hope the rumor is -not true, for it would be a great blow to me to lose the English -connection. Still it is not unlikely, and the times are hard -now—very hard.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And you think your palace in cloud-land for Frithiof would -prevent Mr. Morgan from breaking the connection?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes; a marriage between the two houses would be a great -thing, it would make this new idea unlikely if not altogether -impossible. I am thankful that there seems now some chance -of it. Let the two meet naturally and learn to know each -other. I will not say a word to Frithiof, it would only do -harm; but to you, Sigrid, I confess that my heart is set on -this plan. If I could for one moment make you see the -future as I see it, you would feel with me how important the -matter is.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>At this moment Frithiof himself entered, and the conversation -was abruptly ended.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, have you decided?” he asked, in his eager, boyish -way. “Is it to be Ulvik or Balholm? What! You were not -even talking about that. Oh, I know what it was then. -Sigrid was deep in the discussion of to-morrow’s dinner. I -will tell you what to do, abolish the romekolle, and let us be -English to the backbone. Now I think of it, Mr. Morgan is -not unlike a walking sirloin with a plum-pudding head. There -is your bill of fare, so waste no more time.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The brother and sister went off together, laughing and talking; -but when the door closed behind them the master of the -house buried his face in his hands and for many minutes sat -motionless. What troubled thoughts, what wavering anxieties -filled his mind, Sigrid little guessed. It was, after all, a mere -surface difficulty of which he had spoken; of the real strain -which was killing him by inches he could not say a word to any -<span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>mortal being, though now in his great misery he instinctively -prayed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My poor children!” he groaned. “Oh, God spare them -from this shame and ruin which haunts me. I have tried to be -upright and prudent,—it was only this once that I was rash. -Give me success for their sakes, O God! The selfish and -unscrupulous flourish on all sides. Give me this one success. -Let me not blight their whole lives.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But the next day, when he went forward to greet his English -guests, it would have been difficult to recognize him as the -burdened, careworn man from whose lips had been wrung that -confession and that prayer. All his natural courtesy and -brightness had returned to him; if he thought of his business -at all he thought of it in the most sanguine way possible, and -the Morgans saw in him only an older edition of Frithiof, and -wondered how he had managed to preserve such buoyant spirits -in the cares and uncertainties of mercantile life. The two -o’clock dinner passed off well; Sigrid, who was a clever little -housekeeper, had scouted Frithiof’s suggestion as to the roast -beef and plum-pudding, and had carefully devised a thoroughly -Norwegian repast.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“For I thought,” she explained afterwards to Blanche, when -the two girls had made friends, “that if I went to England I -should wish to see your home life just exactly as it really is, -and so I have ordered the sort of dinner we should naturally -have, and did not, as Frithiof advised, leave out the romekolle.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Was that the stuff like curds and whey?” asked Blanche, -who was full of eager interest in everything.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes: it is sour cream with bread crumbs grated over it. -We always have a plateful each at dinner, it is quite one of our -customs. But everything here is simple of course, not grand as -with you; we do not keep a great number of servants, or dine -late, or dress for the evening—here there is nothing”—she -hesitated for a word, then in her pretty foreign English added, -“nothing ceremonious.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That is just the charm of it all,” said Blanche, in her sweet -gracious way. “It is all so real and simple and fresh, and I -think it was delightful of you to know how much best we should -like to have a glimpse of your real home life instead of a stupid -party. Now mamma cares for nothing but just to make a -great show, it doesn’t matter whether the visitors really like -it or not.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid felt a momentary pang of doubt; she had fallen in -love with Blanche Morgan the moment she saw her, but it somehow -<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>hurt her to hear the English girl criticise her own mother. -To Sigrid’s loyal nature there was something out of tune in -that last remark.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Perhaps you and your cousin would like to see over the -house,” she said, by way of making a diversion. “Though I -must tell you that we are considered here in Bergen to be -rather English in some points. That is because of my father’s -business connection with England, I suppose. Here, you see, -in his study he has a real English fireplace; we all like it much -better than the stoves, and some day I should like to have them -in the other rooms as well.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But there is one thing very un-English,” said Blanche. -“There are no passages; instead, I see, all your rooms open -out of each other. Such numbers of lovely plants, too, in -every direction; we are not so artistic, we stand them all in -prim rows in a conservatory. This, too, is quite new to me. -What a good idea!” And she went up to examine a prettily -worked sling fastened to the wall, and made to hold newspapers.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She was too polite, of course, to say what really struck her—that -the whole house seemed curiously simple and bare, and -that she had imagined that one of the leading merchants of Bergen -would live in greater style. As a matter of fact, you might, -as Cyril expressed it, have bought the whole place for an old -song, and though there was an air of comfort and good taste -about the rooms and a certain indescribable charm, they were -evidently destined for use and not for show, and with the exception -of some fine old Norwegian silver and a few good pictures -Herr Falck did not possess a single thing of value.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Contrasted with the huge and elaborately furnished house in -Lancaster Gate with its lavishly strewn knick-knacks, its profusion -of all the beautiful things that money could buy, the -Norwegian villa seemed poor indeed, yet there was something -about it which took Blanche’s fancy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Later on, when the whole party had started for a walk, and -when Frithiof and Blanche had quite naturally drifted into a -<i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tête-à-tête</span></i>, she said something to this effect.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I begin not to wonder that you are so happy,” she added; -“the whole atmosphere of the place is happiness. I wish you -could teach us the secret of it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Have you then only the gift of making other people happy?” -said Frithiof. “That seems strange.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You will perhaps think me very discontented,” she said, -with a pathetic little sadness in her tone which touched him; -“but seeing how fresh and simple and happy your life is out -<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>here makes me more out of heart than ever with my own home. -You must not think I am grumbling; they are very good to me, -you know, and give me everything that money can buy; but -somehow there is so much that jars on one, and here there seems -nothing but kindliness and ease and peace.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am glad you like our life,” he said; “so very glad.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And as she told him more of her home and her London life, -and of how little it satisfied her, her words, and still more her -manner and her sweet eyes, seemed to weave a sort of spell -about him, seemed to lure him on into a wonderful future, and -to waken in him a new life.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I like him,” thought Blanche to herself. “Perhaps after -all this Norwegian tour will not be so dull. I like to see his -eye light up so eagerly; he really has beautiful eyes! I almost -think—I really almost think I am just a little bit in love with -him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>At this moment they happened to overtake two English tourists -on the road; as they passed on in front of them Frithiof, -with native courtesy, took off his hat.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You surely don’t know that man? He is only a shopkeeper,” -said Blanche, not even taking the trouble to lower -her voice.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof crimsoned to the roots of his hair.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am afraid he must have heard what you said,” he exclaimed, -quickening his pace in the discomfort of the realization. -“I do not know him certainly, but one is bound to be -courteous to strangers.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I know exactly who he is,” said Blanche, “for he and his -sister were on the steamer, and Cyril found out all about them. -He is Boniface, the music-shop man.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof was saved a reply, for just then they reached their -destination, and rejoined the rest of the party, who were clustered -together on the hill-side enjoying a most lovely view. -Down below them, sheltered by a great craggy mountain on the -further side, lay a little lonely lake, so weird-looking, so desolate, -that it was hard to believe it to be within an easy walk of -the town. Angry-looking clouds were beginning to gather in -the sky, a purple gloom seemed to overspread the mountain and -the lake, and something of its gravity seemed also to have fallen -upon Frithiof. He had found the first imperfection in his ideal, -yet it had only served to show him how great a power, how -strange an influence she possessed over him. He knew now -that, for the first time in his life, he was blindly, desperately in -love.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>“Why, it is beginning to rain,” said Mr. Morgan. “I almost -think we had better be turning back, Herr Falck. It has -been a most enjoyable little walk; but if we can reach the hotel -before it settles in for a wet evening, why, all the better.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The rain is the great drawback to Bergen,” said Herr -Falck. “At Christiania they have a saying that when you go -to Bergen it rains three hundred and sixty-six days out of -the year. But after all one becomes very much accustomed -to it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>On the return walk the conversation was more general, and -though Frithiof walked beside Blanche he said very little. His -mind was full of the new idea which had just dawned upon him, -and he heard her merry talk with Sigrid and Swanhild like a -man in a dream. Before long, much to his discomfort, he saw -in front of them the two English tourists, and though his mind -was all in a tumult with this new perception of his love for -Blanche, yet the longing to make up for her ill-judged remark, -the desire to prove that he did not share in her prejudice, was -powerful too. He fancied it was chiefly to avoid them that the -Englishman turned toward the bank just as they passed to -gather a flower which grew high above his head.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What can this be, Cecil?” he remarked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Allow me, sir,” said Frithiof, observing that it was just out -of the stranger’s reach.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He was two or three inches taller, and, with an adroit spring, -was able to bring down the flower in triumph. By this time -the others were some little way in advance. He looked rather -wistfully after Blanche, and fancied disapproval in her erect, -trim little figure.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“This is the Linnæa,” he explained. “You will find a great -deal of it about. It was the flower, you know, which Linnæus -chose to name after himself. Some say he showed his modesty -in choosing so common and insignificant a plant, but it always -seems to me that he showed his good taste. It is a beautiful -flower.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Roy Boniface thanked him heartily for his help. “We were -hoping to find the Linnæa,” he said, handing it to his sister, -while he opened a specimen tin.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What delicate little bells!” she exclaimed. “I quite agree -with you that Linnæus showed his good taste.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof would probably have passed on had he not, at that -moment, recognized Cecil as the English girl whom he had first -accosted on the steamer.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Pardon me for not knowing you before,” he said, raising -<span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>his hat. “We met yesterday afternoon, did we not? I hope -you have had a pleasant time at Bergen?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Delightful, thank you. We think it the most charming -town we ever saw.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Barring the rain,” said Roy, “for which we have foolishly -forgotten to reckon.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Never be parted from your umbrella is a sound maxim for -this part of the world,” said Frithiof, smiling. “Halloo! it is -coming down in good earnest. I’m afraid you will get very -wet,” he said, glancing at Cecil’s pretty gray traveling -dress.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Shall we stand up for a minute under that porch, Roy?” -said the girl, glancing at a villa which they were just passing.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, no,” said Frithiof: “please take shelter with us. My -father’s villa is close by. Please come.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And since Cecil was genuinely glad not to get wet through, -and since Roy, though he cared nothing for the rain, was glad -to have a chance of seeing the inside of a Norwegian villa, -they accepted the kindly offer, and followed their guide into -the pretty, snug-looking house.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Roy had heard a good deal of talk about sweetness and -light, but he thought he had never realized the meaning of the -words till the moment when he was ushered into that pretty Norwegian -drawing-room, with its painted floor and groups of -flowers, and its pink-tinted walls, about which the green ivy -wreathed itself picturesquely, now twining itself round some -mirror or picture-frame, now forming a sort of informal frieze -round the whole room, its roots so cleverly hidden away in -sheltered corners or on unobtrusive brackets that the growth -had all the fascination of mystery. The presiding genius of -the place, and the very center of all that charmed, stood by -one of the windows, the light falling on her golden hair. She -had taken off her hat and was flicking the rain-drops from it -with her handkerchief when Frithiof introduced the two Bonifaces, -and Roy, who found his novel experience a little embarrassing, -was speedily set at ease by her delightful naturalness -and frank courtesy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her bow and smile were grace itself, and she seemed to take -the whole proceeding entirely as a matter of course; one might -have supposed that she was in the habit of sheltering wet tourists -every day of her life.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am so glad my brother found you,” she exclaimed. -“You would have been wet through had you walked on to Bergen. -Swanhild, run and fetch a duster; oh, you have brought -<span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>one already, that’s a good child. Now let me wipe your -dress,” she added, turning to Cecil.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Where has every one disappeared to?” asked Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Father has walked on to Holdt’s Hotel with the Morgans,” -said Swanhild. “They would not wait, though we tried -to persuade them to. Father is going to talk over their route -with them.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil saw a momentary look of annoyance on his face; but -the next minute he was talking as pleasantly as possible to -Roy, and before long the question of routes was being discussed, -and as fast as Frithiof suggested one place, Sigrid and -Swanhild mentioned others which must on no account be -missed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And you can really only spare a month for it all?” asked -Sigrid. “Then I should give up going to Christiania or -Trondhjem if I were you. They will not interest you half as -much as this southwest coast.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But, Sigrid, it is impossible to leave out Kongswold and -Dombaas. For you are a botanist, are you not?” said Frithiof, -turning to the Englishman, “and those places are perfection -for flowers.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes? Then you must certainly go there,” said Sigrid. -“Kongswold is a dear little place up on the Dovrefjeld. Yet -if you were not botanists I should say you ought to see instead -either the Vöringsfos or the Skjaeggedalsfos, they are our two -finest waterfalls.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The Skedaddle-fos, as the Americans call it,” put in -Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You have a great many American tourists, I suppose,” -said Roy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, yes, a great many, and we like them very well, though -not as we like the English. To the English we feel very -much akin.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And you speak our language so well!” said Cecil, to -whom the discovery had been a surprise and a relief.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You see we Norwegians think a great deal of education. -Our schools are very good; we are all taught to speak German -and English. French, which with you comes first, does it not? -stands third with us.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Tell me about your schools,” said Cecil. “Are they like -ours, I wonder?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We begin at six years old to go to the middle school—they -say it is much like your English high schools; both my brother -and I went to the middle schools here at Bergen. Then when -<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>we were sixteen we went to Christiania, he to the Handelsgymnasium, -and I to Miss Bauer’s school, for two years. My -little sister is now at the middle school here; she goes every -day, but just now it is holiday time.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And in holidays,” said Swanhild, whose English was much -less fluent and ready, “we go away. We perhaps go to-morrow -to Balholm.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Perhaps we shall meet you again there,” said Sigrid. “Oh, -do come there; it is such a lovely place.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then followed a discussion about flowers, in which Sigrid was -also interested, and presently Herr Falck returned, and added -another picture of charming hospitality to the group that would -always remain in the minds of the English travelers; and then -there was afternoon tea, which proved a great bond of union -and more discussion of English and Norwegian customs, and -much laughter and merriment and light-heartedness.</p> - -<p class='c000'>When at length the rain ceased and Roy and Cecil were -allowed to leave for Bergen, they felt as if the kindly Norwegians -were old friends.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Shall you be very much disappointed if we give up the -Skedaddle-fos?” asked Roy. “It seems to me that a water-fall -is a water-fall all the world over, but that we are not likely -to meet everywhere with a family like that.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, by all means give it up,” said Cecil gayly. “I would -far rather have a few quiet days at Balholm. I detest toiling -after the things every one expects you to see. Besides, we can -always be sure of finding the Skjaeggedalsfos in Norway, but -we can’t tell what may happen to these delightful people.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span> - <h2 id='III' class='c005'>CHAPTER III.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>Balholm, the loveliest of all the places on the Sogne Fjord, -is perhaps the quietest place on earth. There is a hotel, kept -by two most delightful Norwegian brothers; there is a bathing-house, -a minute landing-stage, and a sprinkling of little -wooden cottages with red-tiled roofs. The only approach is by -water; no dusty high-road is to be found, no carts and carriages -rumble past; if you want rest and quiet, you have only -to seek it on the mountains or by the shore; if you want -amusement, you have only to join the merry Norwegians in the -<i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">salon</span></i>, who are always ready to sing or to play, to dance or to -talk, or, if weather-bound, to play games with the zest and animation -of children. Even so limp a specimen of humanity as -Cyril Morgan found that, after all, existence in this primitive -region had its charms, while Blanche said, quite truthfully, -that she had never enjoyed herself so much in her life. There -was to her a charming piquancy about both place and people; -and although she was well accustomed to love and admiration, -she found that Frithiof was altogether unlike the men she -had hitherto met in society; there was about him something -strangely fresh—he seemed to harmonize well with the place, -and he made all the other men of whom she could think seem -ordinary and prosaic. As for Frithiof he made no secret of his -love for her, it was apparent to all the world—to the light-hearted -Norwegians, who looked on approvingly; to Cyril -Morgan, who wondered what on earth Blanche could see in -such an unsophisticated boy; to Mr. Morgan, who, with a -shrug of his broad shoulders, remarked that there was no help -for it—it was Blanche’s way; to Roy Boniface, who thought -the two were well matched, and gave them his good wishes; -and to Cecil, who, as she watched the two a little wistfully, -said in her secret heart what could on no account have been -said to any living being, “I hope, oh, I hope she cares for him -enough!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>One morning, a little tired with the previous day’s excursion -to the Suphelle Brae, they idled away the sunny hours on the -fjord, Frithiof rowing, Swanhild lying at full length in the bow -<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span>with Lillo mounting guard over her, and Blanche, Sigrid, and -Cecil in the stern.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You have been all this time at Balholm and yet have not -seen King Bele’s grave!” Frithiof had exclaimed in answer to -Blanche’s inquiry. “Look, here it is, just a green mound by -that tree.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Isn’t it odd,” said Sigrid dreamily, “to think that we are -just in the very place where the Frithiof Saga was really -lived?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But I thought it was only a legend,” said Cecil.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, no,” said Frithiof, “the Sagas are not legends, but -true stories handed down by word of mouth.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then I wish you would hand down your saga to us by -word of mouth,” said Blanche, raising her sweet eyes to his. -“I shall never take the trouble to read it for myself in some -dry, tiresome book. Tell us the story of Frithiof now as we -drift along in the boat with his old home Framnaes in sight.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I do not think I can tell it really well,” he said: “but I -can just give you the outline of it:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Frithiof was the only son of a wealthy yeoman who owned -land at Framnaes. His father was a great friend of King -Bele, and the king wished that his only daughter Ingeborg -should be educated by the same wise man who taught Frithiof, -so you see it happened that as children Frithiof and Ingeborg -were always together, and by and by was it not quite natural -that they should learn to love each other? It happened -just so, and Frithiof vowed that, although he was only the son -of a yeoman, nothing should separate them or make him give -her up. It then happened that King Bele died, and Frithiof’s -father, his great friend, died at the same time. Then Frithiof -went to live at Framnaes over yonder; he had great possessions, -but the most useful were just these three; a wonderful -sword, a wonderful bracelet, and a wonderful ship called the -‘Ellida,’ which had been given to one of his Viking ancestors -by the sea-god. But though he had all these things, -and was the most powerful man in the kingdom, yet he was -always sad, for he could not forget the old days with Ingeborg. -So one day he crossed this fjord to Bele’s grave, close -to Balholm, where Ingeborg’s two brothers Helge and Halfdan -were holding an assembly of the people, and he boldly -asked for Ingeborg’s hand. Helge the King was furious, -and rejected him with scorn, and Frithiof, who would not -allow even a king to insult him, drew his sword and with one -blow smote the King’s shield, which hung on a tree, in two -<span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>pieces. Soon after this good King Ring of the far North, -who had lost his wife, became a suitor for Ingeborg’s hand; -but Helge and Halfdan insulted his messengers and a war -was the consequence. When Frithiof heard the news of the -war he was sitting with his friend at a game of chess; he -refused to help Helge and Halfdan, but knowing that Ingeborg -had been sent for safety to the sacred grove of Balder, he -went to see her in the ‘Ellida,’ though there was a law that -whoever ventured to approach the grove by water should be -put to death. Now Ingeborg had always loved him and she -agreed to be betrothed to him, and taking leave of her, Frithiof -went with all haste to tell her brothers. This time also -there was a great assembly at Bele’s grave, and again Frithiof -asked for the hand of Ingeborg, and promised that, if Helge -would consent to their betrothal, he would fight for him. But -Helge, instead of answering him, asked if he had not been to -the sacred grove of Balder contrary to the law? Then all the -people shouted to him, ‘Say no, Frithiof! Say no, and Ingeborg -is yours.’ But Frithiof said that though his happiness hung -on that one word he would not tell a lie, that in truth he had -been to Balder’s Temple, but that his presence had not defiled -it, that he and Ingeborg had prayed together and had planned -this offer of peace. But the people forsook him, and King -Helge banished him until he should bring back the tribute due -from Angantyr of the Western Isles; and every one knew that -if he escaped with his life on such an errand it would be a -wonder. Once again Frithiof saw Ingeborg, and he begged -her to come with him in his ship the ‘Ellida,’ but Ingeborg, -though she loved him, thought that she owed obedience to her -brothers, and they bade each other farewell; but before he -went Frithiof clasped on her arm the wonderful bracelet. So -then they parted, and Frithiof sailed away and had more adventures -than I can tell you, but at last he returned with the -tribute money, and now he thought Ingeborg would indeed -be his. But when he came in sight of Framnaes, he found -that his house and everything belonging to him had been -burned to the ground.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, no, Frithiof; there was his horse and his dog left,” -corrected Sigrid. “Don’t you remember how they came up to -him?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“So they did, but all else was gone; and, worst of all, Ingeborg, -they told him, had been forced by her brothers to marry -King Ring, who, if she had not become his wife, would have -taken the kingdom from Helge and Halfdan. Then Frithiof -<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>was in despair, and cried out, ‘Who dare speak to me of -the fidelity of women?’ And it so happened that that very -day was Midsummer-day, and he knew that King Helge, -Ingeborg’s brother, would be in the Temple of Balder. He -sought him out, and went straight up to him and said, ‘You -sent me for the lost tribute and I have gained it, but either you -or I must die. Come, fight me! Think of Framnaes that you -burned. Think of Ingeborg whose life you have spoiled!’ -And then in great wrath he flung the tribute-money at Helge’s -head, and Helge fell down senseless. Just then Frithiof -caught sight of the bracelet he had given Ingeborg on the -image of Balder, and he tore it off, but in so doing upset the -image, which fell into the flames on the altar. The fire spread, -and spread so that at last the whole temple was burned, and -all the trees of the grove. Next day King Helge gave chase -to Frithiof, but luckily in the night Frithiof’s friend had scuttled -all the King’s ships, and so his effort failed, and Frithiof -sailed out to sea in the ‘Ellida.’ Then he became a Viking, -and lived a hard life, and won many victories. At last he -came home to Norway and went to King Ring’s court at -Yule-tide, disguised as an old man; but they soon found out -that he was young and beautiful, and he doffed his disguise, -and Ingeborg trembled as she recognized him. Ring knew -him not, but liked him well, and made him his guest. One -day he saved Ring when his horse and sledge had fallen into -the water. But another day it so happened that they went out -hunting together, and Ring being tired fell asleep, while Frithiof -kept guard over him. As he watched, a raven came and sung -to him, urging him to kill the King; but a white bird urged -him to flee from temptation, and Frithiof drew his sword and -flung it far away out of reach. Then the King opened his eyes, -and told Frithiof that for some time he had known him, and -that he honored him for resisting temptation. Frithiof, however, -felt that he could no longer bear to be near Ingeborg, -since she belonged not to him, and soon he came to take leave -of her and her husband. But good King Ring said that the -time of his own death was come, and he asked Frithiof to take -his kingdom and Ingeborg, and to be good to his son. Then -he plunged his sword in his breast, and so died. Before long -the people met to elect a new king, and would have chosen -Frithiof, but he would only be regent till Ring’s son should be -of age. Then Frithiof went away to his father’s grave, and -prayed to Balder, and he built a wonderful new temple for the -god, but still peace did not come to him. And the priest told -<span class='pageno' id='Page_28'>28</span>him that the reason of this was because he still kept anger and -hatred in his heart toward Ingeborg’s brothers. Helge was -dead, but the priest prayed him to be reconciled to Halfdan. -They were standing thus talking in the new temple when Halfdan -unexpectedly appeared, and when he caught sight of his -foe, he turned pale and trembled. But Frithiof, who for the -first time saw that forgiveness is greater than vengeance, -walked up to the altar, placed upon it his sword and shield, -and returning, held out his hand to Halfdan, and the two were -reconciled. At that moment there entered the temple one -dressed as a bride, and Frithiof lifted up his eyes and saw that -it was Ingeborg herself. And Halfdan, his pride of birth forgotten -and his anger conquered by his foe’s forgiveness, led -his sister to Frithiof and gave her to be his wife, and in the -new Temple of Balder the Good the lovers received the blessing -of the priest.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How well you tell it! It is a wonderful story,” said Blanche; -and there was real, genuine pleasure in her dark eyes as she -looked across at him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was such a contrast to her ordinary life, this quiet Norway, -where all was so simple and true and trustworthy, where -no one seemed to strain after effects. And there was something -in Frithiof’s strength, and spirit, and animation which -appealed to her greatly. “My Viking is adorable!” she used -to say to herself; and gradually there stole into her manner -toward him a sort of tender reverence. She no longer teased -him playfully, and their talks together in those long summer -days became less full of mirth and laughter, but more earnest -and absorbing.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil saw all this, and she breathed more freely. “Certainly -she loves him,” was her reflection.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid, too, no longer doubted; indeed, Blanche had altogether -won her heart, and somehow, whenever they were together, -the talk always drifted round to Frithiof’s past, or -Frithiof’s future, or Frithiof’s opinions. She was very happy -about it, for she felt sure that Blanche would be a charming -sister-in-law, and love and hope seemed to have developed -Frithiof in a wonderful way; he had suddenly grown manly -and considerate, nor did Sigrid feel, as she had feared, that his -new love interfered with his love for her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>They were bright days for every one, those days at Balholm, -with their merry excursions to the priest’s garden and the fir-woods, -to the saeter on the mountain-side, and to grand old -Munkeggen, whose heights towered above the little wooden hotel. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_29'>29</span>Herr Falck, who had joined them toward the end of the -week, and who climbed Munkeggen as energetically as any one, -was well pleased to see the turn affairs had taken; and every -one was kind, and discreetly left Frithiof and Blanche to themselves -as they toiled up the mountain-side; indeed, Knut, the -landlord’s brother, who as usual had courteously offered his -services as guide, was so thoughtful for the two lovers who -were lingering behind, that he remorselessly hurried up a stout -old American lady, who panted after him, to that “Better -resting-place,” which he always insisted was a little further on.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Will there be church to-morrow?” asked Blanche, as they -rested half-way. “I should so like to go to a Norwegian service.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There will be service at some church within reach,” said -Frithiof; “but I do not much advise you to go; it will be very -hot, and the place will be packed.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why? Are you such a religious people?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The peasants are,” he replied. “And of course the women. -Church-going and religion, that is for women; we men do not -need that sort of thing.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She was a little startled by his matter-of-fact, unabashed tone.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What, are you an agnostic? an atheist?” she exclaimed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, no, not at all,” he said composedly. “I believe in -a good Providence but with so much I am quite satisfied, you -see. What does one need with more? To us men religion, -church-going, is—is—how do you call it in English? I think -you say ‘An awful bore,’ Is it not so?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The slang in foreign accent was irresistible. She was a little -shocked, but she could not help laughing.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How you Norwegians speak out!” she exclaimed. “Many -Englishmen feel that, but few would say it so plainly.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“So! I thought an Englishman was nothing if not candid. -But for me I feel no shame. What more would one have than -to make the most of life? That is my religion. I hear that in -England there is a book to ask whether life is worth living? For -me I can’t understand that sort of thing. It is a question that -would never have occurred to me. Only to live is happiness -enough. Life is such a very good thing. Do you not -agree?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sometimes,” she said, rather wistfully.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Only sometimes? No, no, always—to the last breath!” -cried Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You say that because things are as you like; because you -are happy,” said Blanche.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_30'>30</span>“It is true, I am very happy,” he replied. “Who would not -be happy walking with you?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Something in his manner frightened her a little. She went -on breathlessly and incoherently.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You wouldn’t say that life is a very good thing if you were -like our poor people in East London, for instance.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Indeed, no,” he said gravely. “That must be a great -blot on English life. Here in Norway we have no extremes. -No one is very poor, and our richest men have only what would -be counted in England a moderate income.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Perhaps that is why you are such a happy people.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Perhaps,” said Frithiof, but he felt little inclined to consider -the problem of the distribution of wealth just then, and the -talk drifted round once more to that absorbing personal talk -which was much more familiar to them.</p> - -<p class='c000'>At length the top of the mountain was reached, and a merry -little picnic ensued. Frithiof was the life of the party, and -there was much drinking of healths and clinking of glasses, and -though the cold was intense every one seemed to enjoy it, and -to make fun of any sort of discomfort.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Come!” said Sigrid to Cecil Boniface, “you and I must add -a stone to the cairn. Let us drag up this great one and put it -on the top together in memory of our friendship.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>They stood laughing and panting under the shelter of the -cairn when the stone was deposited, the merry voices of the -rest of the party floating back to them.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you not think we are dreadful chatterers, we Norwegians?” -said Sigrid.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I think you are delightful,” said Cecil simply.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Something in her manner touched and pleased Sigrid. She -had grown to like this quiet English girl. They were silent -for some minutes, looking over that wonderful expanse of blue -fjords and hoary mountains, flecked here and there on their -somber heights by snow-drifts. Far down below them a row-boat -could be seen on the water, looking scarcely bigger than -the head of a pin: and as Cecil watched the lovely country -steeped in the golden sunshine of that summer afternoon, -thoughts of the Frithiof Saga came thronging through her -mind, till it almost seemed to her that in another moment she -should see the dragon ship the “Ellida,” winging her way over -the smooth blue waters.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Knut suggested before long that if they were to be home in -time for supper it might be best to start at once, and the merry -party broke up into little groups. Herr Falck was deep in conversation -<span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span>with Mr. Morgan, Cyril and Florence as usual kept -to themselves, Knut piloted the American lady in advance -of the others, while Roy Boniface joined his sister and Sigrid, -pausing on the way for a little snow-balling in a great snowdrift -just below the summit. Little Swanhild hesitated for a -moment, longing to walk with Blanche, for whom she had formed -the sort of adoring attachment with which children of her age -often honor some grown-up girl; but she was laughingly carried -off by some good-natured friends from Bergen, who divined -her intentions, and once more Frithiof and Blanche were -left alone.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And you must really go on Monday?” asked Frithiof, with -a sigh.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well,” she said, glancing up at him quickly, “I have been -very troublesome to you, I’m sure—always needing help in -climbing! You will be glad to get rid of me, though you are -too polite to tell me so.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How can you say such things?” he exclaimed, and again -something in his manner alarmed her a little. “You know—you -must know what these days have been to me.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The lovely color flooded her cheeks, and she spoke almost -at random.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“After all, I believe I should do better if I trusted to my alpenstock!” -And laughingly she began to spring down the rough -descent, a little proud of her own grace and agility, and a little -glad to baffle and tease him for a few minutes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Take care! take care!” cried Frithiof, hurrying after her. -Then, with a stifled cry, he sprang forward to rescue her, for -the alpenstock had slipped on a stone, and she was rolling -down the steep incline. Even in the terrible moment itself he -had time to think of two distinct dangers—she might strike -her head against one of the bowlders, or, worse thought still, -might be unchecked, and fall over that side of Munkeggen -which was almost precipitous. How he managed it he never -realized, but love seemed to lend him wings, and the next thing -he knew was that he was kneeling on the grass only two or three -feet from the sheer cliff-like side, with Blanche in his arms.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Are you hurt?” he questioned breathlessly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No,” she replied, trembling with excitement. “Not hurt -at all, only shaken and startled.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He lifted her a little further from the edge. For a minute -she lay passively, then she looked up into his eyes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How strong you are,” she said, “and how cleverly you -caught me! Yet now that it is over you look quite haggard -<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>and white. I am really not hurt at all. It punished me well -for thinking I could get on without you. You see I couldn’t!” -and a lovely, tender smile dawned in her eyes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She sat up and took off her hat, smoothing back her disordered -hair. A sort of terror seized Frithiof that in another -minute she would propose going on, and, urged by this fear, -he spoke rapidly and impetuously.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If only I might always serve you!” he cried. “Oh, Blanche, -I love you! I love you! Will you not trust yourself to me?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Blanche had received already several offers of marriage; -they had been couched in much better terms, but they had -lacked the passionate ardor of Frithiof’s manner. All in a moment -she was conquered; she could not even make a feint of -resistance, but just put her hand in his.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I will always trust you,” she faltered.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then, as she felt his strong arm round her and his kisses on -her cheek, there flashed through her mind a description she -had once read of—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in6'>“a strong man from the North,</div> - <div class='line'>Light-locked, with eyes of dangerous gray.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>It was a love worth having, she thought to herself; a love to -be proud of!</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But Frithiof,” she began, after a timeless pause, “we must -keep our secret just for a little while. You see my father is -not here, and—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Let me write to him and ask his consent,” exclaimed -Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, no, do not write. Come over to England in October -and see him yourself, that will be so much better.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Must we wait so long?” said Frithiof, his face clouding.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is only a few weeks; papa will not be at home till then. -Every one is away from London, you know. Don’t look so -anxious; I do not know your face when it isn’t happy—you -were never meant to be grave. As for papa, I can make him -do exactly what I like, you need not be afraid that he will not -consent. Come! I have promised to trust to you, and yet -you doubt me.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Doubt you!” he cried. “Never! I trust you, before all -the world; and if you tell me to wait—why then—I must -obey.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How I love you for saying that,” cried Blanche, clinging -to him. “To think that you who are so strong should say that -to me! It seems wonderful. But indeed, indeed, you need -<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>not doubt me. I love you with my whole heart. I love you -as I never thought it possible to love.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof again clasped her in his arms, and there came to his -mind the sweet words of Uhland:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Gestorben war ich</span></div> - <div class='line'><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Vor Liebeswonn,</span></div> - <div class='line'><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Begraben lag ich</span></div> - <div class='line'><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">In Ihren Armen;</span></div> - <div class='line'><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Erwechet ward ich</span></div> - <div class='line'><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Von Ihren Küssen,</span></div> - <div class='line'><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Den Himmel sah ich</span></div> - <div class='line'><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">In Ihren Augen.</span>”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span> - <h2 id='IV' class='c005'>CHAPTER IV.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>“We were beginning to think some accident had happened -to you,” said Sigrid, who stood waiting at the door of the -hotel.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And so it did,” said Blanche, laughing, “I think I should -have broken my neck if it hadn’t been for your brother. It -was all the fault of this treacherous alpenstock which played -me false.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And then, with a sympathetic little group of listeners, Blanche -gave a full account of her narrow escape.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And you are really not hurt at all? Not too much shaken -to care to dance to-night?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Not a bit,” said Blanche merrily. “And you promised -to put on your peasant costume and show us the <i><span lang="no" xml:lang="no">spring dans</span></i>, -you know.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“So I did. I must make haste and dress, then,” and Sigrid -ran upstairs, appearing again before long in a simply made -dark skirt, white sleeves and chemisette, and red bodice, richly -embroidered in gold. Her beautiful hair was worn in two -long plaits down her back, and the costume suited her to perfection. -There followed a merry supper in the <em>dépendence</em> -where all meals were served; then every one adjourned to the -hotel <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">salon</span></i>, the tables and chairs were hastily pushed aside, -and dancing began.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Herr Falck’s eyes rested contentedly on the slim little figure -in the maize-colored dress who so often danced with his -son; and, indeed, Blanche looked more lovely than ever that -evening, for happiness and excitement had brightened her -dark eyes, and deepened the glow of color in her cheeks. -The father felt proud, too, of his children, when, in response -to the general entreaty, Frithiof and Sigrid danced the <i><span lang="no" xml:lang="no">spring -dans</span></i> together with its graceful evolutions and quaint gestures. -Then nothing would do but Frithiof must play to them on -the violin, after which Blanche volunteered to teach every -one Sir Roger de Coverly, and old and young joined merrily -in the country dance, and so the evening passed on all -too rapidly to its close. It was a scene which somehow lived -<span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>on in Cecil’s memory; the merry dancers, the kindly landlord, -Ole Kvikne, sitting near the door and watching them, the expression -of content visible in Herr Falck’s face as he sat beside -him, the pretty faces and picturesque attire of Sigrid and -Swanhild, the radiant beauty of Blanche Morgan, the unclouded -happiness of Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The evening had done her good; its informality, its hearty -unaffected happiness and merriment made it a strange contrast -to any other dance she could recollect; yet even here there was -a slight shadow. She could not forget those words which she -had overheard on board the steamer, could not get rid of the -feeling that some trouble hung over the Falck family, and -that hidden away, even in this Norwegian paradise, there -lurked somewhere the inevitable serpent. Even as she mused -over it, Frithiof crossed the room and made his bow before -her, and in another minute had whirled her off. Happiness -shone in his eyes, lurked in the tones of his voice, added -fresh spirit to his dancing; she thought she had never before -seen such an incarnation of perfect content. They talked of -Norwegian books, and her interest in his country seemed to -please him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You can easily get English translations of our best novelists,” -he said. “You should read Alexander Kielland’s books, -and Bjornsen’s. I have had a poem of Bjornsen’s ringing all -day in my head; we will make Sigrid say it to us, for I only -know the chorus.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then as the waltz came to an end he led her toward his sister, -who was standing with Roy near the piano.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We want you to say us Bjornsen’s poem, Sigrid, in which -the refrain is, ‘To-day is just a day to my mind.’ I can’t remember -anything but the chorus.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But it is rather a horrid little poem,” said Sigrid, hesitating.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, let us have it, please let us have it,” said Blanche, -joining them. “You have made me curious now.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>So Sigrid, not liking to refuse, repeated first the poem itself -and then the English translation:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“The fox lay under the birch-tree’s root</div> - <div class='line in4'>Beside the heather;</div> - <div class='line'>And the hare bounded with lightsome foot</div> - <div class='line in4'>Over the heather;</div> - <div class='line'>‘To-day is just a day to my mind,</div> - <div class='line'>All sunny before and sunny behind</div> - <div class='line in4'>Over the heather!’</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>And the fox laughed under the birch-tree’s root</div> - <div class='line in4'>Beside the heather;</div> - <div class='line'>And the hare frolicked with heedless foot</div> - <div class='line in4'>Over the heather;</div> - <div class='line'>‘I am so glad about everything!’</div> - <div class='line'>‘So that is the way you dance and spring</div> - <div class='line in4'>Over the heather!’</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>And the fox lay in wait by the birch-tree’s root</div> - <div class='line in4'>Beside the heather;</div> - <div class='line'>And the hare soon tumbled close to his foot</div> - <div class='line in4'>Over the heather;</div> - <div class='line'>‘Why, bless me! is that <em>you</em>, my dear!</div> - <div class='line'>However did you come dancing here</div> - <div class='line in4'>Over the heather?’”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“I had forgotten that it ended so tragically,” said Frithiof, -with a slight shrug of the shoulders. “Well, never mind, it is -only a poem; let us leave melancholy to poets and novelists, -and enjoy real life.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Just then a polka was struck up and he hastily made his bow -to Blanche.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And yet one needs a touch of tragedy in real life,” she observed, -“or it becomes so dreadfully prosaic.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh,” said Frithiof, laughing, as he bore her off; “then for -Heaven’s sake let us be prosaic to the end of the chapter.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil heard the words, they seemed to her to fit in uncannily -with the words of the poem; she could not have explained, -and she did not try to analyze the little thrill of pain that shot -through her heart at the idea. Neither could she have justified -to herself the shuddering repulsion she felt when Cyril Morgan -drew near, intercepting her view of Frithiof and Blanche.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“May I have the pleasure of this dance?” he said, in his -condescending tone.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Thank you, but I am so tired,” she replied. “Too tired -for any more to-night.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” said Sigrid, glancing at her. “You look worn out. -Munkeggen is a tiring climb. Let us come upstairs, it is high -time that naughty little sister of mine was in bed.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The reward of virtue,” said Cyril Morgan, rejoining his -cousin Florence. “I have been polite to the little <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">bourgeoise</span></i> -and it has cost me nothing. It is always best in a place like -this to be on good terms with every one. We shall never be -likely to come across these people again, the acquaintance is -not likely to bore us.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>His words were perfectly true. That curiously assorted -gathering of different nationalities would never again meet, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>yet those days of close intimacy were destined to influence forever, -either for good or for evil, the lives of each one.</p> - -<p class='c000'>All through the Sunday Blanche had kept in bed, for though -the excitement had kept her up, on the previous night, she inevitably -suffered from the effects of her fall. It was not till the -Monday morning, just before the arrival of the steamer, that -Frithiof could find the opportunity for which he had impatiently -waited. They walked through the little garden, ostensibly -to watch for the steamer from the mound by the flagstaff, -but they only lingered there for a minute, glancing anxiously -down the fjord where in the distance could be seen the unwelcome -black speck. On the further side of the mound, down -among the trees and bushes, was a little sheltered seat. It was -there that they spent their last moments, there that Blanche -listened to his eager words of love, there that she again bade -him wait till October, at the same time giving him such hope -and encouragement as must surely have satisfied the most -<i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">exigeant</span></i> lover.</p> - -<p class='c000'>All too soon the bustle of departure reached them, and the -steam-whistle—most hateful and discordant of sounds—rang -and resounded among the mountains.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I must go,” she exclaimed, “or they will be coming to look -for me. This is our real good-by. On the steamer it will be -just a hand-shake, but now—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And she lifted a lovely, glowing face to his.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then, presently, as they walked down to the little pier, she -talked fast and gayly of all they would do when he came to -England; she talked because, for once, he was absolutely -silent, and because she was afraid that her uncle would guess -their secret; perhaps it was a relief to her that Frithiof volunteered -to run back to the hotel for Mr. Morgan’s opera-glass, -which had been left by mistake in the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">salon</span></i>, so that, literally, -there was only time for the briefest of farewells on the steamer. -He went through it all in a business-like fashion, smiling -mechanically in response to the good wishes, then, with a heavy -heart, stepping on shore. Herr Falck, who was returning to -Bergen by the same boat, which took the other travelers only -as far as Vadheim, was not ill pleased to see his son’s evident -dejection; he stood by the bulwarks watching him and saying -a word or two now and then to Blanche, who was close by him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why see!” he exclaimed, “the fellow is actually coming -on board again. We shall be carrying him away with us if he -doesn’t take care.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“A thousand pardons!” Frithiof had exclaimed, shaking -<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>hands with Cecil and Roy Boniface. “I did not see you -before. A pleasant journey to you. You must come again to -Norway some day, and let us all meet once more.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<i><span lang="no" xml:lang="no">Vaer saa god!</span></i>” exclaimed one of the sailors; and Frithiof -had to spring down the gangway.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“To our next merry meeting,” said Roy, lifting his hat; -and then there was a general waving of handkerchiefs from -the kindly little crowd on the pier and from the parting guests, -and, in all the babel and confusion, Frithiof was conscious -only of Blanche’s clear “<i><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Auf wiedersehen!</span></i>” and saw nothing -but the sweet dark eyes, which to the very last dwelt on -him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, that is over!” he said to Sigrid, pulling himself -together, and stifling a sigh.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Perhaps they will come here next year,” suggested Sigrid -consolingly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Perhaps I shall go to England next autumn,” said Frithiof -with a smile.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“So soon!” she exclaimed involuntarily.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He laughed, for the words were such a curious contradiction -to the ones which lurked in his own mind.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh! you call two months a short time!” he exclaimed; -“and to me it seems an eternity. You will have to be very -forbearing, for I warn you such a waiting time is very little to -my taste.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then why did you not speak now, before she went away?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You wisest of advisers!” he said, with a smile: “I did -speak yesterday.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yesterday!” she cried eagerly. “Yesterday, on Munkeggen?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes; all that now remains is to get Mr. Morgan’s consent -to our betrothal.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, Frithiof, I am so glad! so very glad! How pleased -father will be! I think you must write and let him know.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If he will keep it quite secret,” said Frithiof; “but of -course not a word must be breathed until her father has consented. -There is no engagement as yet, only we know that we -love each other.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That ought to be enough to satisfy you till the autumn. -And it was so nice of you to tell me, Frithiof. Oh, I don’t -think I could have borne it if you had chosen to marry some -girl I didn’t like. As for Blanche, there never was any one -more sweet and lovely.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>It seemed that Frithiof’s happiness was to bring happiness -<span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>to the whole family. Even little Swanhild guessed the true -state of things, and began to frame visions of the happy future -when the beautiful English girl should become her own sister; -while as to Herr Falck, the news seemed to banish entirely the -heavy depression which for some time had preyed upon him. -And so, in spite of the waiting, the time slipped by quickly to -Frithiof, the mere thought of Blanche’s love kept him rapturously -happy, and at the pretty villa in Kalvedalen there was -much laughter and mirth, and music and singing—much eager -expectation and hope, and much planning of a future life -which should be even more full and happy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>At length, when the afternoons closed in early, and the long -winter was beginning to give signs of its approach, Frithiof took -leave of his home, and, on one October Saturday, started on -his voyage to England. It was, in a sense, the great event of -his life, and they all instinctively knew that it was a crisis, so -that Sigrid drew aside little Swanhild at the last, and left the -father and son to have their parting words alone.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I look to you, Frithiof,” the father said eagerly, “I look -to you to carry out the aims in which I myself have failed—to -live the life I could wish to have lived. May God grant you -the wife who will best help you in the struggle! I sometimes -think, Frithiof, that things might have gone very differently -with me had your mother been spared.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you not let this depression influence you too much, -father?” said Frithiof. “Why take such a dark view of your -own life? I shall only be too happy if I make as much of the -world as you have done. I wish you could have come to England -too. I think you want change and rest.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ah!” said Herr Falck, laughing, “once over there you will -not echo that wish. No, no, you are best by yourself when -you go a-wooing, my son. Besides, I could not possibly leave -home just now; we shall have the herring-fleet back from Iceland -before many days.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then, as the signal was given that all friends of the passengers -must leave the steamer, he took Frithiof’s hand and held -it fast in his.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“God bless you, my boy—I think you will bring honor to -our name, sooner or later. Now, Sigrid, wish him well, and -let us be off.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He called little Swanhild to him, and walked briskly down -the gangway, then stood on the quay, talking very cheerfully, -his momentary depression quite past. Before long the steamer -began to glide off, and Frithiof, even in the midst of his bright -<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>expectations, felt a pang as he waved a farewell to those he -left behind him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“A happy return to <i><span lang="no" xml:lang="no">Gamle Norge</span></i>!” shouted Herr Falck.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And Sigrid and Swanhild stood waving their handkerchiefs -till the steamer could no longer be seen.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am a fool to mind going away!” reflected Frithiof. “In -three weeks’ time I shall be at home again. And the next -time I leave Bergen, why, who knows, perhaps it will be to attend -my own wedding!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And with that he began to pace the deck, whistling, as he -walked, “The Bridal Song of the Hardanger.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span> - <h2 id='V' class='c005'>CHAPTER V.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>The event to which we have long eagerly looked forward is -seldom all that we have expected, and Frithiof, who for the last -two months had been almost hourly rehearsing his arrival in -England, felt somewhat depressed and disillusioned when, one -chilly Monday morning, he first set foot on English soil. The -Southerner, arriving at Folkestone or Dover, with their white -cliffs and sunny aspect, gains a cheerful impression as he steps -ashore; but the Norwegian leaving behind him his mountains -and fjords, and coming straight to that most dingy and unattractive -town, Hull, is at great disadvantage.</p> - -<p class='c000'>A fine, drizzling rain was falling; in the early morning the -shabby, dirty houses looked their very worst. Swarms of grimy -little children had been turned out of their homes, and were making -their way to morning school, and hundreds of busy men and -women were hurrying through the streets, all with worn, anxious-looking -faces. As he walked to the railway station Frithiof felt -almost overpowered by the desolateness of the place. To be a -mere unit in this unthinking, unheeding crowd, to be pushed -and jostled by the hurrying passengers, who all walked as if -their very lives depended on their speed, to hear around him -the rapidly spoken foreign language, with its strange north-country -accent, all made him feel very keenly that he was indeed -a foreigner in a strange land. He was glad to be once -more in a familiar-looking train, and actually on his way to -London; and soon all these outer impressions faded away in -the absorbing consciousness that he was actually on his way to -Blanche—that on the very next day he might hope to see her -again.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Fortunately the Tuesday proved to be a lovely, still, autumn -day. He did not like to call upon Mr. Morgan till the afternoon, -and, indeed, thought that he should scarcely find him at -home earlier, so he roamed about London, and looked at his -watch about four times an hour, till at length the time came -when he could call a hansom and drive to Lancaster Gate.</p> - -<p class='c000'>There are some houses which the moment you enter them -suggest to you the idea of money. The Morgans’ house was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>one of these; everything was faultlessly arranged; your feet -sank into the softest of carpets, you were served by the most -obsequious of servants, all that was cheap or common or ordinary -was banished from view, and you felt that the chair you -sat on was a very superior chair, that all the pictures and ornaments -were the very best that could be bought, and that ordinary -people who could not boast of a very large income were -only admitted into this aggressively superior dwelling on sufferance. -With all its grandeur, it was not a house which tempted -you to break the tenth commandment; it inspired you with a -kind of wonder, and if the guests had truly spoken the thought -which most frequently occurred to them, it would have been: -“I wonder now what he gave for this? It must have cost a -perfect fortune!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>As to Frithiof, when he was shown into the great empty -drawing-room with its luxurious couches and divans and its -wonderful collection of the very best upholstery and the most -telling works of art, he felt, as strongly as he had felt in the -dirty streets of Hull, that he was a stranger and a foreigner. -In the whole room there was nothing which suggested to him -the presence of Blanche; on the contrary, there was everything -which combated the vision of those days at Balholm and of -their sweet freedom. He felt stifled, and involuntarily crossed -the room and looked from the window at the green grass in -Kensington Gardens, and the tall elm-trees with their varying -autumn tints.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Before many minutes had passed, however, his host came -into the room, greeting him politely but somewhat stiffly. -“Glad to make your acquaintance,” he said, scanning him a -little curiously as he spoke. “I heard of you, of course, from -my brother. I am sure they are all very much indebted to -you for planning their Norwegian tour for them so well.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Had he also heard of him from Blanche? Had she indeed -prepared the way for him? Or would his request come as a -surprise? These were the thoughts which rushed through -Frithiof’s mind as he sat opposite the Englishman and noted his -regular features, short, neat-looking, gray beard, closely cropped -hair, and rather cold eyes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Any one watching the two could scarcely have conceived a -greater contrast: the young Norwegian, eager, hopeful, bearing -in his face the look of one who has all the world before him; -the middle-aged Englishman who had bought his experience, -and in whose heart enthusiasm, and eager enjoyment of life, -and confident belief in those he encountered, had long ceased -<span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>to exist. Nevertheless, though Mr. Morgan was a hard-headed -and a somewhat cold-blooded man, he felt a little sorry for his -guest, and reflected to himself that such a fine looking fellow -was far more fit for the post at Stavanger than his own son -Cyril.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is curious that you should have come to-day,” he remarked, -after they had exchanged the usual platitudes about -the weather and the voyage and the first impressions of England. -“Only to-day the final decision was arrived at about this -long-mooted idea of the new branch of our firm at Stavanger. -Perhaps you have heard rumors of it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have heard nothing at all,” said Frithiof. “My father -did not even mention it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is scarcely possible that he has heard nothing of the -idea,” said Mr. Morgan. “When I saw you I had thought he -had sent you over on that very account. However, you have -not as yet gone into the business, I understand?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am to be taken into partnership this autumn,” said -Frithiof. “I was of age the other day, and have only waited -for that.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Strange,” said Mr. Morgan, “that only this very morning -the telegram should have been sent to your father. Had I -known you were in England, I would have waited. One can -say things better face to face. And yet I don’t know how that -could have been either, for there was a sudden chance of getting -good promises at Stavanger, and delay was impossible. I -shall, of course, write fully to your father by the next mail, -and I will tell him that it is with great regret we sever our connection -with him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof was so staggered by this unexpected piece of news -that for a minute all else was driven from his mind.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He will be very sorry to be no longer your agent,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And I shall be sorry to lose him. Herr Falck has always -been most honorable. I have the greatest respect for him. -Still, business is business; one can’t afford to sentimentalize -in life over old connections. It is certainly best in the interest -of our firm to set up a branch of our own with its headquarters -at Stavanger. My son will go there very shortly.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The telegram is only just sent, you say?” asked Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The first thing this morning,” replied Mr. Morgan. “It -was decided on last night. By this time your father knows all -about it; indeed, I almost wonder we have had no reply from -him. You must not let the affair make any breach between us; -it is after all, a mere business necessity. I must find out from -<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>Mrs. Morgan what free nights we have, and you must come and -dine with us. I will write and let you know. Have you any -particular business in London? or have you only come for the -sake of traveling?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I came to see you, sir,” said Frithiof, his heart beating quickly, -though he spoke with his usual directness. “I came to ask -your consent to my betrothal with your daughter.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“With my daughter!” exclaimed Mr. Morgan. “Betrothal! -What, in Heaven’s name, can you be thinking of?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I do not, of course, mean that there was a definite engagement -between us,” said Frithiof, speaking all the more steadily -because of this repulse. “Of course we could not have thought -of that until we had asked your consent. We agreed that I -should come over this autumn and speak to you about it; nothing -passed at Balholm but just the assurance that we loved each -other.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Loved each other!” ejaculated Mr. Morgan, beginning to -pace the room with a look of perplexity and annoyance. -“What folly will the girl commit next?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>At this Frithiof also rose to his feet, the angry color rising -to his face. “I should never have spoken of my love to -your daughter had I not been in a position to support her,” -he said hotly. “By your English standards I may not, perhaps, -be very rich, but our firm is one of the leading firms in -Bergen. We come of a good old Norwegian family. Why -should it be a folly for your daughter to love me?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You misunderstand me,” said Mr. Morgan. “I don’t wish -to say one word against yourself. However, as you have alluded -to the matter I must tell you plainly that I expect my -daughter to make a very different marriage. Money I can provide -her with. Her husband will supply her with a title.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What!” cried Frithiof furiously, “you will force her to -marry some wretched aristocrat whom she can’t possibly love? -For the sake of a mere title you ruin her happiness.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I shall certainly do nothing of the kind,” said the Englishman, -with a touch of dignity. “Sit down, Herr Falck, and -listen to me. I would have spared you this had it been possible. -You are very young, and you have taken things for -granted too much. You believed that the first pretty girl that -flirted with you was your future wife. I can quite fancy that -Blanche was well pleased to have you dancing attendance on -her in Norway, but it was on her part nothing but a flirtation, -she does not care for you in the least.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I do not believe it,” said Frithiof hotly.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>“Don’t think that I wish to excuse her,” said Mr. Morgan. -“She is very much to be blamed. But, she is pretty and winsome, -she knows her own power, and it pleases her to use it; -women are all of them vain and selfish. What do they care -for the suffering they cause?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You shall not say such things of her,” cried Frithiof desperately. -“It is not true. It can’t be true!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>His face had grown deathly pale, and he was trembling with -excitement. Mr. Morgan felt sorry for him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My poor fellow,” he said kindly, “don’t take it so hard. -You are not the first man who has been deceived. I am heartily -sorry that my child’s foolish thoughtlessness should have -given you this to bear. But, after all, it’s a lesson every one -has to learn; you were inexperienced and young.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is not possible!” repeated Frithiof in terrible agitation, -remembering vividly her promises, her words of love, her -kisses, the expression of her eyes, as she had yielded to his -eager declaration of love. “I will never believe it possible till -I hear it from her own lips.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>With a gesture of annoyance, Mr. Morgan crossed the room -and rang the bell. “Well, let it be so, then,” he said coldly. -“Blanche has treated you ill; I don’t doubt it for a moment, -and you will have every right to hear the explanation from -herself.” Then, as the servant appeared, “Tell Miss Morgan -that I want her in the drawing-room. Desire her to come at -once.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The minutes of waiting which followed were the worst -Frithiof had ever lived through. Doubt, fear, indignation, -and passionate love strove together in his heart, while mingled -with all was the oppressive consciousness of his host’s presence, -and of the aggressive superiority of the room and its contents.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Perhaps the waiting was not altogether pleasant to Mr. Morgan; -he poked the fire and moved about restlessly. When, at -last, light footsteps were heard on the stairs, and Blanche entered -the room, he turned toward her with evident displeasure -in his face.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She wore a dress of reddish brown with a great deal of plush -about it, and something in the way it was made suggested the -greatest possible contrast to the little simple traveling-dress she -had worn in Norway. Her eyes were bright and eager, her -loveliness as great as ever.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You wanted me, papa?” she began; then, as she came forward -and recognized Frithiof, she gave a little start of dismay -and the color burned in her cheeks.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>“Yes, I wanted you,” said Mr. Morgan gravely. “Herr -Falck’s son has just arrived.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She struggled hard to recover herself.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am very glad to see you again,” she said, forcing up a -little artificial laugh and holding out her hand.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But Frithiof had seen her first expression of dismay and it -had turned him into ice; he would not take her proffered -hand, but only bowed formally. There was a painful silence.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“This is not the first time, Blanche, that you have learned -what comes of playing with edged tools,” said Mr. Morgan -sternly. “I heard from others that you had flirted with Herr -Falck’s son in Norway; I now learn that it was by your own -suggestion that he came to England to ask my consent to an -engagement, and that you allowed him to believe that you -loved him. What have you to say for yourself?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>While her father spoke, Blanche had stood by with bent -head and downcast eyes; at this direct question she looked up -for a moment.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I thought I did care for him just at the time,” she faltered. -“It—it was a mistake.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, then, did you not write and tell him so? It was the -least you could have done,” said her father.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It was such a difficult letter to write,” she faltered. “I -kept on putting it off, and hoping that he, too, would find out -his mistake. And then sometimes I thought I could explain it -all better to him if he came.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof made a step or two forward; his face was pale and -rigid; the blue seemed to have died out of his eyes—they -looked like steel. “I wait for your explanation,” he said, in a -voice which, in spite of its firmness, betrayed intense agitation.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mr. Morgan without a word quitted the room, and the two -were left alone. Again there was a long, expressive silence. -Then, with a sob, Blanche turned away, sinking down on an -ottoman and covering her face with her hands. Her tears instantly -melted Frithiof; his indignation and wounded pride gave -pace to love and tenderness; a sort of wild hope rose in his mind.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Blanche! Blanche!” he cried. “It isn’t true! It can’t -be all over! Others have been urging you to make some grand -marriage—to be the wife perhaps of some rich nobleman. But -he can not love you as I love you. Oh! have you forgotten -how you told me I might trust to you? There is not a moment -since then that you have not been in my thoughts.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I hoped so you would forget,” she sobbed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How could I forget? What man could help remembering -<span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>you day and night? Oh, Blanche, don’t you understand that -I love you? I love you!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I understand only too well,” she said, glancing at him, her -dark eyes brimming over with tears.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He drew nearer.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And you will love me once more,” he said passionately. -“You will not choose rank and wealth; you will—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, hush! hush!” she cried. “It has all been a dreadful -mistake. I never really loved you. Oh, don’t look like that! -I was very dull in Norway—there was no one else but you. I -am sorry; very sorry.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He started back from her as if she had dealt him some mortal -blow, but Blanche went on, speaking quickly and incoherently, -never looking in his face.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“After we went away I began to see all the difficulties so -plainly—our belonging to different countries, and being accustomed -to different things; but still I did really think I liked -you till we got to Christiania. There, on the steamer coming -home, I found that it had all been a mistake.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She paused. All this time she had carefully kept the fingers -of her left hand out of view; the position was too constrained -not to attract Frithiof’s notice.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He remembered that, in the wearing of betrothal or wedding-rings, -English custom reversed the Norwegian, and turned -upon her almost fiercely.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why do you try to hide that from me?” he cried. “Are -you already betrothed to this other man?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It was only last Sunday,” she sobbed. “And I meant to -write to you; I did indeed.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Once more she covered her face with her hands, this time -not attempting to hide from Frithiof the beautiful circlet of -brilliants on her third finger.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It seemed to him that giant hands seized on him then and -crushed out of him his very life. Yet the pain of living went -on remorselessly, and as if from a very great distance he heard -Blanche’s voice.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am engaged to Lord Romiaux,” she said. “He had -been in Norway on a fishing tour, but it was on the steamer -that we first met. And then almost directly I knew that at -Munkeggen it had all been quite a mistake, and that I had -never really loved you. We met again at one of the watering-places -in September, but it was only settled the day before yesterday. -I wish—oh, how I wish—that I had written to tell -you!”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>She stood up impulsively and drew nearer to him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Is there nothing I can do to make up for my mistake?” -she said, lifting pathetic eyes to his.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Nothing.” he said bitterly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, don’t think badly of me for it,” she pleaded. “Don’t -hate me.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Hate you?” he exclaimed. “It will be the curse of my -life that I love you—that you have made me love you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He turned as though to go away.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Don’t go without saying good-by,” she exclaimed; and -her eyes said more plainly than words, “I do not mind if you -kiss me just once more.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He paused, ice one minute, fire the next, yet through it all -aware that his conscience was urging him to go without delay.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Blanche watched him tremulously; she drew yet nearer.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Could we not still be friends?” she said, with a pathetic -little quiver in her voice.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No,” he cried vehemently, yet with a certain dignity in -his manner; “no, we could not.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then, before Blanche could recover enough from her sense -of humiliation at this rebuff to speak, he bowed to her and left -the room.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She threw herself down on the sofa and buried her face in -the cushions. “Oh, what must he think of me? what must he -think of me?” she sobbed. “How I wish I had written to -him at once and saved myself this dreadful scene! How -could I have been so silly! so dreadfully silly! To be afraid -of writing a few words in a letter! My poor Viking! he -looked so grand as he turned away. I wish we could have -been friends still; it used to be so pleasant in Norway; he was -so unlike other people; he interested me. And now it is all -over, and I shall never be able to meet him again. Oh, I have -managed very badly. If I had not been so imprudent on -Munkeggen he might have been my cavalier all his life, and I -should have liked to show him over here to people. I should -have liked to initiate him in everything.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The clock on the mantel-piece struck five. She started up -and ran across to one of the mirrors, looking anxiously at her -eyes. “Oh, dear! oh, dear! what shall I do?” she thought. -“Algernon will be here directly, and I have made a perfect -object of myself with crying.” Then, as the door-bell rang, -she caught up a couvrette, sunk down on the sofa, and covered -herself up picturesquely. “There is nothing for it but a -bad headache,” she said to herself.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span> - <h2 id='VI' class='c005'>CHAPTER VI.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>On the stairs Frithiof was waylaid by Mr. Morgan; it was -with a sort of surprise that he heard his own calm replies to -the Englishman’s polite speeches, and regrets, and inquiries as -to when he returned to Norway, for all the time his head was -swimming, and it was astonishing that he could frame a correct -English phrase. The thought occurred to him that Mr. Morgan -would be glad enough to get rid of him and to put an end -to so uncomfortable a visit; he could well imagine the shrug -of relief with which the Englishman would return to his fireside, -with its aggressively grand fenders and fire-irons, and -would say to himself, “Well, poor devil, I am glad he is gone! -A most provoking business from first to last.” For to the -Morgans the affair would probably end as soon as the door had -closed behind him, but for himself it would drag on and on -indefinitely. He walked on mechanically past the great houses -which, to his unaccustomed eyes, looked so palatial; every little -trivial thing seemed to obtrude itself upon him; he noticed -the wan, haggard-looking crossing sweeper, who tried his best -to find something to sweep on that dry, still day when even -autumn leaves seldom fell; he noticed the pretty spire of the -church, and heard the clock strike five, reflecting that one brief -half-hour had been enough to change his whole life—to bring -him from the highest point of hope and eager anticipation to -this lowest depth of wretchedness. The endless succession of -great, monotonous houses grew intolerable to him; he crossed -the road and turned into Kensington Gardens, aware, as the -first wild excitement died down in his heart, of a cold, desolate -blankness, the misery of which appalled him. What was -the meaning of it all? How could it possibly be borne? Only -by degrees did it dawn upon his overwrought brain that -Blanche’s faithlessness had robbed him of much more than her -love. It had left him stripped and wounded on the highway -of life; it had taken from him all belief in woman; it had -made forever impossible for him his old creed of the joy of -mere existence; it had killed his youth. Was he now to get -up, and crawl on, and drag through the rest of his life as best -<span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>might be? Why, what was life worth to him now? He had -been a fool ever to believe in it; it was as she herself had once -told him, he had believed that it was all-sufficient merely because -he had never known unhappiness—never known the agony -that follows when, for—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in4'>“The first time Nature says plain ‘No’</div> - <div class='line'>To some ‘Yes’ in you, and walks over you</div> - <div class='line'>In gorgeous sweeps of scorn.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>His heart was so utterly dead that he could not even think -of his home; neither his father nor Sigrid rose before him as -he looked down that long, dreary vista of life that lay beyond. -He could only see that Blanche was no longer his; that the -Blanche he had loved and believed in had never really existed; -that he had been utterly deceived, cheated, defrauded; and -that something had been taken from him which could never -return.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I will not live a day longer,” he said to himself; “not an -hour longer.” And in the relief of having some attainable -thing to desire ardently, were it only death and annihilation, -he quickened his pace and felt a sort of renewal of energy and -life within him, urging him on, holding before him the one aim -which he thought was worth pursuing. He would end it all -quickly, he would not linger on, weakly bemoaning his fate, or -railing at life for having failed him and disappointed his hopes; -he would just put an end to everything without more ado. As -to arguing with himself about the right or wrong of the matter, -such a notion never occurred to him, he just walked blindly -on, certain that some opportunity would present itself, buoyed -up by an unreasoning hope that death would bring him -relief.</p> - -<p class='c000'>By this time he had reached Hyde Park, and a vague memory -came back to him; he remembered that, as he drove to -Lancaster Gate, that afternoon, he had crossed a bridge. -There was water over there. It should be that way. And he -walked on more rapidly than before, still with an almost dazzling -perception of all the trifling little details, the color of the -dry, dusty road, the green of the turf, the dresses of those who -passed by him, the sound of their voices, the strange incongruity -of their perfectly unconcerned, contented faces. He -would get away from all this—would wait till it was dusk, when -he could steal down unnoticed to the water. Buoyed up by -this last hope of relief, he walked along the north shore of the -Serpentine, passed the Receiving House of the Royal Humane -<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>Society, with an unconcerned thought that his lifeless body -would probably be taken there, passed the boat-house with a -fervent hope that no one there would try a rescue, and at -length, finding a seat under a tree close to the water’s edge, sat -down to wait for the darkness. It need not be for long, for -already the sun was setting, and over toward the west he could -see that behind the glowing orange and russet of the autumn -trees was a background of crimson sky. The pretty little -wooded island and the round green boat-house on the shore -stood out in strong relief; swans and ducks swam about contentedly; -on the further bank was a dark fringe of trees; away -to the left the three arches of a gray-stone bridge. In the evening -light it made a fair picture, but the beauty of it seemed only -to harden him, for it reminded him of past happiness; he -turned with sore-hearted relief to the nearer view of the Serpentine -gleaming coldly as its waters washed the shore, and to -the dull monotony of the path in front of him with its heaps of -brown leaves. A bird sat singing in the beech-tree above him; -its song jarred on him just as much as the beauty of the sunset, -it seemed to urge him to leave the place where he was not -needed, to take himself out of a world which was meant for -beauty and brightness and success, a world which had no sympathy -for failure or misery. He longed for the song to cease, -and he longed for the sunset glory to fade, he was impatient -for the end; the mere waiting for that brief interval became to -him almost intolerable; only the dread of being rescued held -him back.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Presently footsteps on the path made him look up; a shabbily -dressed girl walked slowly by, she was absorbed in a newspaper -story and did not notice him; neither did she notice her -charge, a pale-faced, dark-eyed little girl of about six years old -who followed her at some distance, chanting a pretty, monotonous -little tune as she dragged a toy-cart along the gravel. -Frithiof, with the preternatural powers of observation which -seemed his that day, noticed in an instant every tiniest detail -of the child’s face and dress and bearing, the curious anatomy -of the wooden horse, the heap of golden leaves in the little -cart. As the child drew nearer, the words of the song became -perfectly audible to him. She sang very slowly, and in a sort -of unconscious way, as if she couldn’t help it:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Comfort every sufferer,</div> - <div class='line in4'>Watching late in pain—”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>She paused to put another handful of leaves into the cart, arranged -<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>them with great care, patted the wooden steed, and resumed -her song as if there had been no interruption—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Those who plan some evil,</div> - <div class='line in4'>From their sin restrain.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof felt as if a knife had been suddenly plunged into -him; he tried to hear more, but the words died away, he could -only follow the monotonous little tune in the clear voice, and -the rattling of the toy cart on the pathway. And so the child -passed on out of sight, and he saw her no more.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He was alone again, and the twilight for which he had -longed was fast closing in upon him; a sort of blue haze -seemed gathering over the park; night was coming on. What -was this horrible new struggle which was beginning within him? -“Evil,” “sin”; could he not at least do what he would with his -own life? Where was the harm in ending that which was -hopelessly spoiled and ruined? Was not suicide a perfectly -legitimate ending to a life?</p> - -<p class='c000'>A voice within him answered his question plainly:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“To the man with a diseased brain—the man who doesn’t -know what he is about—it is no worse an end than to die in -bed of a fever. But to you—you who are afraid of the suffering -of life, you who know quite well what you are doing—to -you it is sin.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Fight against it as he would, he could not stifle this new consciousness -which had arisen within him. What had led him, -he angrily wondered, to choose that particular place to wait in? -What had made that child walk past? What had induced her -to sing those particular words? Did that vague First Cause, -in whom after a fashion he believed, take any heed of trifles -such as those? He would never believe that. Only women -or children could hold such a creed: only those who led -sheltered, innocent, ignorant lives. But a man—a man who -had just learned what the world really was, who saw that the -weakest went to the wall, and might triumphed over right—a -man who had once believed in the beauty of life and had been -bitterly disillusioned—could never believe in a God who ordered -all things for good. It was a chance, a mere unlucky -chance, yet the child’s words had made it impossible for him -to die in peace.</p> - -<p class='c000'>As a matter of fact the sunset sky and fading light had -suggested to the little one’s untroubled mind the familiar evening -hymn with its graphic description of scenery, its beautiful -word-painting, its wide human sympathies; and that great -<span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>mystery of life which links us together, whether we know it or -not, gave to the child the power to counteract the influence of -Blanche Morgan’s faithlessness, and to appeal to one to whom -the sight of that same sunset had suggested only thoughts of -despair.</p> - -<p class='c000'>A wild confusion of memories seemed to rush through his -mind, and blended with them always were the welcome words -and the quiet little chant. He was back at home again talking -with the old pastor who had prepared him for confirmation; he -was a mere boy once more, unhesitatingly accepting all that he -was taught; he was standing in the great crowded Bergen -church and declaring his belief in Christ, and his entire willingness -to give up everything wrong; he was climbing a mountain -with Blanche and arguing with her that life—mere existence—was -beautiful and desirable.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Looking back afterward on the frightful struggle, it seemed -to him that for ages he had tossed to and fro in that horrible -hesitation. In reality all must have been over within a quarter -of an hour. There rose before him the recollection of his -father as he had last seen him standing on the deck of the -steamer, and he remembered the tone of his voice as he had -said:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I look to you, Frithiof, to carry out the aims in which I -myself have failed, to live the life that I could wish to have -lived.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He saw once again the wistful look in his father’s eyes, the -mingled love, pride, and anxiety with which he had turned to -him, loath to let him go, and yet eager to speed him on his -way. Should he now disappoint all his hopes? Should he, -deliberately and in the full possession of all his faculties, take -a step which must bring terrible suffering to his home people? -And then he remembered for the first time that already trouble -and vexation and loss had overtaken his father; he knew well -how greatly he would regret the connection with the English -firm, and he pictured to himself the familiar house in Kalvedalen -with a new and unfamiliar cloud upon it, till instead of -the longing for death there came to him a nobler longing—a -longing to go back and help, a longing to make up to his father -for the loss and vexation and the slight which had been put -upon him. He began to feel ashamed of the other wish, he -began to realize that there was still something to be lived for, -though indeed life looked to him as dim and uninviting as the -twilight park with its wreaths of gray mists, and its unpeopled -solitude.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>Yet still he would live; the other thought no longer allured -him, his strength and manliness were returning; with bitter -resolution he tore himself from the vision of Blanche which -rose mockingly before him, and getting up, made his way out -of the park.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Emerging once more into the busy world of traffic at Hyde -Park corner, the perception of his forlorn desolateness came to -him with far more force than in the quiet path by the Serpentine. -For the first time he felt keenly that he was in an unknown -city, and there came over him a sick longing for Norway, -for dear old Bergen, for the familiar mountains, the familiar -faces, the friendly greetings of passers-by. For a few minutes -he stood still, uncertain which road to take, wondering -how in the world he should get through the weary hours of his -solitary evening. Close by him a young man stood talking to -the occupants of a brougham which had drawn up by the pavement; -he heard a word or two of their talk, dimly, almost -unconsciously.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Is the result of the trial known yet?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, five years’ penal servitude, and no more than he -deserves.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The poor children! what will become of them?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Shall you be home by ten? We wont hinder you, then.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Quite by ten. Tell father that Sardoni is free for the -night he wanted him; I met him just now. Good-by.” -Then to the coachman “Home!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The word startled Frithiof back to the recollection of his -own affairs; he had utterly lost his bearings and must ask for -direction. He would accost this man who seemed a little less -in a hurry than the rest of the world.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Will you kindly tell me the way to the Arundel Hotel?” -he asked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The young man turned at the sound of his voice, looked -keenly at him for an instant, then held out his hand in cordial -welcome.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How are you?” he exclaimed. “What a lucky chance that -we should have run across each other in the dark like this! -Have you been long in England?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof, at the first word of hearty greeting, looked up with -startled eyes, and in the dim gas-light he saw the honest English -face and kindly eyes of Roy Boniface.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span> - <h2 id='VII' class='c005'>CHAPTER VII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>Meantime the brougham had bowled swiftly away and its -two occupants had settled themselves down comfortably as -though they were preparing for a long drive.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Are you warm enough, my child? Better let me have this -window down, and you put yours up,” said Mrs. Boniface, -glancing with motherly anxiety at the fair face beside her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You spoil me, mother dear,” said Cecil. “And indeed I -do want you not to worry about me. I am quite strong, if you -would only believe it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, well, I hope you are,” said Mrs. Boniface, with a -sigh. “But any way it’s more than you look, child.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And the mother thought wistfully of two graves in a distant -cemetery where Cecil’s sisters lay; and she remembered with -a cruel pang that only a few days ago some friend had remarked -to her, with the thoughtless frankness of a rapid talker, “Cecil -is looking so pretty just now, but she’s got the consumptive -look in her face, don’t you think?” And these words lay -rankling in the poor mother’s heart, even though she had been -assured by the doctors that there was no disease, no great delicacy -even, no cause whatever for anxiety.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am glad we have seen Doctor Royston,” said Cecil, -“because now we shall feel quite comfortable, and you wont -be anxious any more, mother. It would be dreadful, I think, -to have to be a sort of semi-invalid all one’s life, though I suppose -some people just enjoy it, since Doctor Royston said that -half the girls in London were invalided just for want of sensible -work. I rather believe, mother, that is what has been -the matter with me,” and she laughed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You, my dear!” said Mrs. Boniface; “I am sure you are -not at all idle at home. No one could say such a thing of -you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But I am always having to invent things to do to keep myself -busy,” said Cecil. “Mother, I have got a plan in my -head now that would settle my work for five whole years, and -I do so want you to say ‘yes’ to it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It isn’t that you want to go into some sisterhood?” asked -Mrs. Boniface, her gentle gray eyes filling with tears.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>“Oh, no, no,” said Cecil emphatically. “Why, how could I -ever go away from home and leave you, darling, just as I am -getting old enough to be of use to you? It’s nothing of that -kind, and the worst of it is that it would mean a good deal of -expense to father, which seems hardly fair.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He wont grudge that,” said Mrs. Boniface. “Your father -would do anything to please you, dear. What is this plan? -Let me hear about it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, the other night when I was hearing all about those -poor Grantleys opposite to us—how the mother had left her -husband and children and gone off no one knows where, and -then how the father had forged that check and would certainly -be imprisoned; I began to wonder what sort of a chance the -children had in the world. And no one seemed to know or to -care what would become of them, except father, and he said -we must try to get them into some asylum or school.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It isn’t many asylums that would care to take them, I expect,” -said Mrs. Boniface. “Poor little things, there’s a hard -fight before them! But what was your plan?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, mother, it was just to persuade father to let them -come to us for the five years. Of course it would be an expense -to him, but I would teach them, and help to take care of them; -and oh, it would be so nice to have children about the house! -One can never be dull where there are children.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I knew she was dull at home,” thought the mother to herself. -“It was too much of a change for her to come back from -school, from so many educated people and young friends, to -an ignorant old woman like me and a silent house. Not that -the child would ever allow it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But of course, darling,” said Cecil, “I wont say a word -more about it if you think it would trouble you or make the -house too noisy.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There is plenty of room for them, poor little mites,” said -Mrs. Boniface. “And the plan is just like you, dear. There’s -only one objection I have to it. I don’t like your binding yourself -to work for so many years—not just now while you are so -young. I should have liked you to marry, dear.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But I don’t think that is likely,” said Cecil. “And it does -seem so stupid to let the time pass on, and do nothing for years -and years just because there is a chance that some man whom -you could accept may propose to you. The chances are quite -equal that it may not be so, and then you have wasted a great -part of your life.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I wish you could have fancied Herbert White,” said Mrs. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>Boniface wistfully. “He would have made such a good husband.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I hope he will to some one else. But that would have been -impossible, mother, quite, quite impossible.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Cecil, dearie, is there—is there any one else?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No one, mother,” said Cecil quietly, and the color in her -cheeks did not deepen, and Mrs. Boniface felt satisfied. Yet, -nevertheless, at that very moment there flashed into Cecil’s -mind the perception of the real reason which had made it impossible -for her to accept the offer of marriage that a week or -two ago she had refused. She saw that Frithiof Falck would -always be to her a sort of standard by which to measure the -rest of mankind, and she faced the thought quietly, for there -never had been any question of love between them; he would -probably marry the pretty Miss Morgan, and it was very unlikely -that she should ever meet him again.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The man whom I could accept must be that sort of man,” -she thought to herself. “And there is something degrading in -the idea of standing and waiting for the doubtful chance that -such a one may some day appear. Surely we girls were not -born into the world just to stand in rows waiting to get married?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And I am sure I don’t know what I should do without you -if you did get married,” said Mrs. Boniface, driving back the -tears which had started to her eyes, “so I don’t know why I -am so anxious that it should come about, except that I should -so like to see you happy.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And so I am happy, perfectly happy,” said Cecil, and as -she spoke she suddenly bent forward and kissed her mother. -“A girl would have to be very wicked not to be happy with -you and father and Roy to live with.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I wish you were not cut off from so much,” said Mrs. Boniface. -“You see, dear, if you were alone in the world people -would take you up—I mean the style of people you would care -to be friends with—but as long as there’s the shop, and as long -as you have a mother who can’t talk well about recent books, -and who is not always sure how to pronounce things—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Mother! mother!” cried Cecil, “how can you say such -things? As long as I have you, what do I want with any one -else?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mrs. Boniface patted the girl’s hand tenderly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I like to talk of the books with you, dearie,” she said; -“you understand that. There’s nothing pleases me better than -to hear you read of an evening, and I’m very much interested -<span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>in that poor Mrs. Carlyle, though it does seem to me it’s a -comfort to be in private life, where no biographers can come -raking up all your foolish words and bits of quarrels after you -are dead and buried. Why, here we are at home. How quick -we have got down this evening! As to your plan, dearie, I’ll -just talk it over with father the very first chance I have.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Thank you, mother. I do so hope he will let us have -them.” And Cecil sprang out of the carriage with more animation -in her face than Mrs. Boniface had seen there for a -long time.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mrs. Boniface was a Devonshire woman, and, notwithstanding -her five-and-twenty years of London life, she still preserved -something of her western accent and intonation; she had also -the gentle manner and the quiet consideration and courtesy -which seem innate in most west-country people. As to education, -she had received the best that was to be had for tradesmen’s -daughters in the days of her youth, but she was well -aware that it did not come up to modern requirements, and -had taken good care that Cecil should be brought up very -differently. There was something very attractive in her homely -simplicity; and though she could not help regretting that -Cecil, owing to her position, was cut off from much that other -girls enjoyed, nothing would have induced her to try to push -her way in the world,—she was too true a lady for that, and, -moreover, beneath all her gentleness had too much dignity and -independence of character. So it had come to pass that they -lived a very quiet life, with few intimate friends and not too -many acquaintances; but perhaps they were none the less happy -for that. Certainly there was about the home a sense of peace -and rest not too often to be met with in this bustling nineteenth -century.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The opportunity for suggesting Cecil’s plan to Mr. Boniface -came soon after they reached home. In that house things were -wont to be quickly settled; they were not great at discussions, -and perhaps this accounted in a great measure for the peace of -the domestic atmosphere. Certainly there is nothing so productive -of family quarrels as the habit of perpetually talking -over the various arrangements, household or personal, and -many a good digestion must have been ruined, and many a -temper soured by the baneful habit of arguing the <em>pros</em> and -<em>cons</em> of some vexed question during breakfast or dinner.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil was in the drawing-room, playing one of Chopin’s -Ballads, when her father came into the room. He stood by -the fire till she had finished, watching her thoughtfully. He -<span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>was an elderly man, tall and spare, with a small, shapely head, -white hair and trim white beard. His gray eyes were honest -and kindly, like his son’s, and the face was a good as well as a -refined face. He was one of the deacons of a Congregational -chapel, and came of an old Nonconformist family, which for -many generations had pleaded and suffered for religious liberty. -Robert Boniface was true to his principles, and when his children -grew up, and, becoming old enough to go thoroughly into -the question, declared their wish to join the Church of England, -he made not the slightest objection. What was more, he -would not even allow them to see that it was a grief to him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is not to be supposed that every one should see from one -point of view,” he had said to his wife. “We are all of us -looking to the same sun, and that is the great thing.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Such division must always be a little sad, but mutual love -and mutual respect made them in this case a positive gain. -There were no arguments, but each learned to see and admire -what was good in the other’s view, to hold stanchly to what was -deemed right, and to live in that love which practically nullifies -all petty divisions and differences.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And so I hear that you want to be mothering those little -children over the way,” said Mr. Boniface, when the piece was -ended.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil crossed the room and stood beside him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What do you think about it, father?” she asked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I think that before you decide you must realize that it will -be a great responsibility.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have thought of that,” she said. “And of course there -is the expense to be thought of.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Never mind about the expense; I will undertake that part -of the matter if you will undertake the responsibility. Do you -quite realize that even pretty little children are sometimes cross -and naughty and ill?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She laughed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, yes; I have seen those children in all aspects, and -they are rather spoiled. But I can’t bear to think that they -will be sent to some great institution, with no one to care for -them properly.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then you are willing to undertake your share of the bargain?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Quite.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Very well, then, that is settled. Let us come across and -see if any one has stepped in before us.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil, in great excitement, flew upstairs to tell her mother, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>and reappeared in a minute or two in her hat and jacket. -Then the father and daughter crossed the quiet suburban road -to the opposite house, where such a different life-story had been -lived. The door was opened to them by the nurse; she -had evidently been crying, and even as they entered the passage -they seemed conscious of the desolation of the whole -atmosphere.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, miss, have you heard the verdict?” said the servant, -who knew Cecil slightly, and was eager for sympathy. “And -what’s to become of my little ones no one seems to know.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That is just what we came to inquire about,” said Mr. -Boniface, “We heard there were no relations to take charge -of them. Is that true?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There’s not a creature in the world to care for them, sir,” -said the nurse. “There’s the lawyer looking through master’s -papers now, sir, and he says we must be out of this by next -week, and that he must look up some sort of school where they’ll -take them cheap. A school for them little bits of things, sir, -isn’t it enough to break one’s heart? And little Miss Gwen -so delicate, and only a lawyer to choose it, one as knows nothing -but about parchments and red tape, sir, and hasn’t so much -as handled a child in his life, I’ll be bound.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If Mr. Grantley’s solicitor is here I should like to speak -to him for a minute,” said Mr. Boniface. “I’ll be with you -again before long, Cecil; perhaps you could see the children.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He was shown into the study which had belonged to the -master of the house, and unfolded Cecil’s suggestion to the -lawyer, who proved to be a much more fatherly sort of man -than the nurse had represented. He was quite certain that -his client would be only too grateful for so friendly an act.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Things have gone hardly with poor Grantley,” he remarked. -“And such an offer will be the greatest possible -surprise to him. The poor fellow has not had a fair chance; -handicapped with such a wife, one can almost forgive him for -going to the bad. I shall be seeing him once more to-morrow, -and will let you know what he says. But of course there can -be but one answer—he will thankfully accept your help.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Meanwhile Cecil had been taken upstairs to the nursery; it -looked a trifle less desolate than the rest of the house, yet lying -on the table among the children’s toys she saw an evening -paper with the account of the verdict and sentence on John -Grantley.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The nurse had gone into the adjoining room, but she quickly -returned.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>“They are asleep, miss, but you’ll come in and see them, -wont you?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil had wished for this, and followed her guide into the -dimly lighted night nursery, where in two little cribs lay her -future charges. They were beautiful children, and as she -watched them in their untroubled sleep and thought of the -mother who had deserted them and disgraced her name, and -the father who was that moment beginning his five years of -penal servitude, her heart ached for the little ones, and more -and more she longed to help them.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Lancelot, the elder of the two, was just four years old; he -had a sweet, rosy, determined little face with a slightly Jewish -look about it, his curly brown hair was long enough to fall -back over the pillow, and in his fat little hand he grasped a toy -horse, which was his inseparable companion night and day. -The little girl was much smaller and much more fragile-looking, -though in some respects the two were alike. Her baby face -looked exquisite now in its perfect peace, and Cecil did not -wonder that the nurse’s tears broke forth again as she spoke -of the little two-year-old Gwen being sent to school. They -were still talking about the matter when Mr. Boniface rejoined -them; the lawyer also came in, and, to the nurse’s -surprise, even looked at the sleeping children. “Quite human-like,” -as she remarked afterward to the cook.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Don’t you distress yourself about the children,” he said -kindly. “It will be all right for them. Probably they will only -have to move across the road. We shall know definitely -about it to-morrow; but this gentleman has very generously -offered to take care of them.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The nurse’s tearful gratitude was interrupted by a sound -from one of the cribs. Lance, disturbed perhaps by the voices, -was talking in his sleep.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Gee-up,” he shouted, in exact imitation of a carter, as he -waved the toy-horse in the air.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Every one laughed, and took the hint: the lawyer went back -to his work, and Mr. Boniface and Cecil, after a few parting -words with the happy servant, recrossed the road to Rowan -Tree House.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, father, it is so very good of you,” said Cecil, slipping -her arm into his; “I haven’t been so happy for an age!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And I am happy,” he replied, “that it is such a thing as -this which pleases my daughter.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>After that there followed a delightful evening of anticipation, -and Mrs. Boniface entered into the plan with her whole heart and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>talked of nursery furniture put away in the loft, and arranged -the new nursery in imagination fifty times over—always with -improvements. And this made them talk of the past, and she -began to tell amusing stories of Roy and Cecil when they were -children, and even went back to remembrances of her own -nursery life, in which a stern nurse who administered medicine -with a forcing spoon figured largely.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I believe,” said the gentle old lady, laughing, “that it was -due to that old nurse of mine that I never could bear theological -arguments. She began them when we were so young that we -took a fatal dislike to them. I can well remember, as a little -thing of four years old, sitting on the punishment chair in the -nursery when all the others were out at play, and wishing that -Adam and Eve hadn’t sinned.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You all sound very merry,” said Roy, opening the door -before the laugh which greeted this story had died away.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, how nice and early you are, Roy!” exclaimed Cecil. -“Oh! mother has been telling us no end of stories, you ought -to have been here to listen to them. And, Roy, we are most -likely going to have those little children over the way to live -with us till their father is out of prison again.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Roy seemed grave and preoccupied, but Cecil was too happy -to notice that, and chattered on contentedly. He scarcely -heard her, yet a sense of strong contrast made the home-likeness -of the scene specially emphasized to him. He looked at -his father leaning back in the great arm-chair, with reading-lamp -and papers close by him, but with his eyes fixed on Cecil -as she sat on the rug at his feet, the firelight brightening her -fair hair; he looked at his mother on the opposite side of the -hearth, in the familiar dress which she almost always wore—black -silk with soft white lace about the neck and bodice, and -a pretty white lace cap. She was busy with her netting, but -every now and then glanced up at him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are tired to-night, Roy,” she said, when Cecil’s story -had come to an end.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Just a little,” he owned. “Such a curious thing happened -to me. It was a good thing you caught sight of me at Hyde -Park Corner and stopped to ask about the trial, Cecil, for otherwise -it would never have come about. Who do you think I -met just as you drove on?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I can’t guess,” said Cecil, rising from her place on the -hearth-rug as the gong sounded for supper.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“One of our Norwegian friends,” said Roy. “Frithiof -Falck.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>“What! is he actually in England?” said Cecil, taking up -the reading-lamp to carry it into the next room.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, poor fellow,” said Roy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Something in his tone made Cecil’s heart beat quickly; she -could not have accounted for the strength of the feeling which -suddenly overwhelmed her; she hardly knew what it was she -feared so much, or why such a sudden panic had seized upon -her; she trembled from head to foot, and was glad as they -crossed the hall to hand the lamp to Roy, glancing up at him as -she did so, apprehensively.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why do you say poor fellow?” she asked. “Oh, Roy, -what is the matter? what—what has happened to him?”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span> - <h2 id='VIII' class='c005'>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>“The house seems quiet without Frithiof,” remarked Herr -Falck on the Monday after his son’s departure.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof at that very moment was walking through the streets -of Hull, feeling lonely and desolate enough. They felt desolate -without him at Bergen, and began to talk much of his -return, and to wonder when the wedding would be, and to -settle what presents they would give Blanche.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The dining-room looked very pleasant on that October -morning. Sigrid, though never quite happy when her twin -was away, was looking forward eagerly to his return, and was -so much cheered by the improvement in her father’s health and -spirits that she felt more at rest than she had done for some -time. Little Swanhild, whose passion for Blanche increased -daily, was in the seventh heaven of happiness, and though she -had not been told everything, knew quite well that the general -expectation was that Frithiof would be betrothed to her ideal. -As for Herr Falck he looked eager and hopeful, and it seemed -as if some cloud of care had been lifted off him. He talked -more than he had done of late, teased Swanhild merrily about -her lessons, and kept both girls laughing and chattering at the -table till Swanhild had to run off in a hurry, declaring that she -should be late for school.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You should not tell such funny stories in the morning, -little father!” she said laughingly, as she stopped for the customary -kiss and “<i><span lang="no" xml:lang="no">tak for maden</span></i>” (thanks for the meal) on her -way out of the room.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ah, but to laugh is so good for the digestion,” said Herr -Falck. “You will read English all the better in consequence. -See if you don’t.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Are you busy to-day, father?” asked Sigrid, as the door -closed behind the little girl.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Not at all. I shall take a walk before going to the office. -I tell you what, Sigrid, you shall come with me and get a new -English story at Beyer’s, to cheer you in Frithiof’s absence. -What was the novel some one told you gave the best description -of English home life?”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span>“‘Wives and Daughters,’” said Sigrid.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, let us get it then, and afterward we will take a turn -above Walkendorf’s Tower, and see if there is any sign of our -vessels from Iceland.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You heard good news of them last month, did you not?” -asked Sigrid.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No definite news, but everything was very hopeful. They -sent word by the steamer to Granton, and telegraphed from -there to our station in Öifjord.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What did they say?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That as yet there was no catch of herrings, but that everything -was most promising, as plenty of whales were seen every -day at the mouth of the fjord. Oh, I am perfectly satisfied. -I have had no anxiety about the expedition since then.” So -father and daughter set out together. It was a clear frosty -morning, the wintry air was invigorating, and Sigrid thought -she had never seen her father look so well before; his step -seemed so light, his brow so smooth, his eyes so unclouded. -Beyer’s shop had fascinations for them both; she lingered long -in the neighborhood of the Tauchnitz shelves, while Herr -Falck discussed the news with some one behind the counter, -and admired the pictures so temptingly displayed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Look here, Sigrid!” he exclaimed. “Did you ever see a -prettier little water-color than that? Bergen in winter, from -the harbor. What is the price of it? A hundred kroner? I -must really have it. It shall be a present to you in memory of -our walk.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid was delighted with the picture, and Herr Falck himself -seemed as pleased with it as a child with a new toy. They -talked away together, planning where it should hang at home -and saying how it was just the sort of thing Frithiof would like.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is quite a pity he did not see it when he was away in -Germany, he would have liked to have it when he was suffering -from <i><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Heimweh</span></i>,” said Sigrid.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, all that sort of thing is over for him, I hope,” said -Herr Falck. “No need that he should be away from Bergen -any more, except now and then for a holiday. And if ever you -marry a foreigner, Sigrid, you will be able to take Bergen with -you as a consolation.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>They made their way up to a little wooded hill above the -fortress, which commanded a wide and beautiful view.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ah!” cried Herr Falck. “Look there, Sigrid! Look, -look! there is surely a vessel coming.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She gazed out seaward.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_66'>66</span>“You have better eyes than I have, father. Whereabouts? -Oh! yes, now I see, ever so far away. Do you think it is one -of yours?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I can’t tell yet,” said Herr Falck; and glancing at him she -saw that he was in an agony of impatience, and that the old -troubled look had come back to his face.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Again the nameless fear which had seized her in the summer -took possession of her. She would not bother him with questions, -but waited silently beside him, wondering why he was so -unusually excited, wishing that she understood business matters, -longing for Frithiof, who would perhaps have known all about -it and could have reassured her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, yes,” cried Herr Falck at length, “I am almost sure -it is one of our Öifjord vessels. Yes! I am certain it is the -‘Solid.’ Now the great question is this—is she loaded or only -ballasted?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The fresh, strong wind kept blowing Sigrid’s fringe about -distractingly; sheltering her eyes with her hand, she looked -again eagerly at the approaching vessel.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I think she is rather low in the water, father, don’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I hope so—I hope so,” said Herr Falck, and he took off -his spectacles and began to wipe the dim glasses with fingers -that trembled visibly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The ship was drawing nearer and nearer, and every moment -Sigrid realized more that it was not as she had first -hoped. Undoubtedly the vessel was high in the water. She -glanced apprehensively at her father.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I can’t bear this any longer, Sigrid,” he exclaimed. “We -will go down to Tydskebryggen, and take a boat and row out -to her.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>They hurried away, speaking never a word. Sigrid feared -that her father would send her home, thinking it would be cold -for her on the water, but he allowed her to get into the little -boat in silence, perhaps scarcely realizing her presence, too -much taken up with his great anxiety to think of anything -else. As they threaded their way through the busy harbor, -she began to feel a little more cheerful. Perhaps, after all, the -matter was not so serious. The sun shone brightly on the -sparkling water; the sailors and laborers on the vessels and -the quays shouted and talked at their work; on a steamer, -which they passed, one of the men was cleaning the brass-work -and singing blithely the familiar tune of “<span lang="no" xml:lang="no">Sönner av Norge</span>.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We must hope for the best,” said Herr Falck, perhaps -also feeling the influence of the cheerful tune.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_67'>67</span>Just as they neared the “Solid” the anchor dropped.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You had better wait here,” said Heir Falck, “while I go -on board. I’ll not keep you long, dear.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Nevertheless, anxious waiting always does seem long, and -Sigrid, spite of her sealskin jacket, shivered as she sat in the -little boat. It was not so much the cold that made her shiver, -as that horrible nameless dread, that anxiety which weighed so -much more heavily because she did not fully understand it.</p> - -<p class='c000'>When her father rejoined her, her worst fears were realized. -He neither looked at her nor spoke to her, but, just giving a -word of direction to the boatman, sat down in his place with -folded arms and bent head. She knew instantly that some terrible -disaster must have happened, but she did not dare to ask -what it was; she just sat still listening to the monotonous stroke -of the oars, and with an uneasy wonder in her mind as to what -would happen next. They were nearing the shore, and at last -her father spoke.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Pay the man, Sigrid,” he said, and with an unsteady hand -he gave her his purse. He got out of the boat first and she -fancied she saw him stagger, but the next moment he recovered -himself and turned to help her. They walked away -together in the direction of the office.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You must not be too anxious, dear child,” he said. “I -will explain all to you this evening. I have had a heavy -loss.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But, little father, you look so ill,” pleaded Sigrid. “Must -you indeed go to the office? Why not come home and -rest?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Rest!” said Herr Falck dreamily. “Rest? No, not just -yet—not just yet. Send the carriage for me this afternoon, -and say nothing about it to any one—I’ll explain it to you -later on.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>So the father and daughter parted, and Sigrid went home to -bear as best she could her day of suspense. Herr Falck -returned later on, looking very ill, and complaining of headache. -She persuaded him to lie down in his study, and would -not ask him the question which was trembling on her lips. -But in the evening he spoke to her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are a good child, Sigrid, a good child,” he said, -caressing her hand. “And now you must hear all, though I -would give much to keep it from you. The Iceland expedition -has failed, dear; the vessels have come back empty.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Does it mean such a very great loss to you, father?” she -asked.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_68'>68</span>“I will explain to you,” he said, more eagerly; “I should -like you to understand how it has come about. For some time -trade has been very bad; and last year and the year before I -had some heavy losses connected with the Lofoten part of the -business.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He seemed to take almost a pleasure in giving her all sorts -of details which she could not half-understand; she heard in a -confused way of the three steamers sent to Nordland in the -summer with empty barrels and salt for the herrings; she heard -about buying at the Bourse of Bergen large quantities, so that -Herr Falck had ten thousand barrels at a time, and had been -obliged to realize them at ruinous prices.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You do not understand all this, my Sigrid,” he said, smiling -at her puzzled face. “Well, I’ll tell you the rest more -simply. Things were looking as bad as possible, and when in -the summer I heard that Haugesund had caught thousands of -barrels of herrings in the fjords of Iceland, I made up my mind -to try the same plan, and to stake all on that last throw. I -chartered sailing vessels, hired hands, bought nets, and the -expedition set off—I knew that if it came back with full barrels -I should be a rich man, and that if it failed, there was no help -for it—my business must go to pieces.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid gave a little cry. “You will be bankrupt?” she -exclaimed. “Oh, surely not that, father—not that!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She remembered all too vividly the bankruptcy of a well-known -timber merchant some years before; she knew that he -had raised money by borrowing on the Bank of Norway and -on the Savings Bank of Bergen, and she knew that it was the -custom of the land that the banks, avoiding risk in that way, -demanded two sureties for the loan, and that the failure of a -large firm caused distress far and wide to an extent hardly conceivable -to foreigners.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There is yet one hope,” said Herr Falck. “If the rumor -I heard in the summer is false, and if I can still keep the connection -with Morgans, that guarantees me seven thousand two -hundred kroner a year, and in that case I have no doubt we -could avoid open bankruptcy.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But how?” said Sigrid. “I don’t understand.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The Morgans would never keep me as their agent if I were -declared a bankrupt, and, to avoid that, I think my creditors -would accept as payment the outcome of all my property, and -would give me what we call voluntary agreement; it is a form -of winding up a failing concern which is very often employed. -They would be the gainers in the long run, because of course -<span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span>they would not allow me to keep my seven thousand two hundred -kroner untouched, so in any case, my child, I have -brought you to poverty.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He covered his face with his hands. Sigrid noticed that the -veins about his temples stood out like blue cords, so much -were they enlarged.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She put her arm about him, kissing his hair, his hands, his -forehead.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I do not mind poverty, little father. I mind only that you -are so troubled,” she said. “And surely, surely they will not -take the agency from you after all these years! Oh, poverty -will be nothing, if only we can keep from disgrace—if only -others need not be dragged down too!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>They were interrupted by a tap at the door, and Swanhild -stole in, making the pretty little courtesy without which no -well-bred Norwegian child enters or leaves a room.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Mayn’t I come and say good-night to you, little father?” -she asked. “I got on ever so well at school, just as you said, -after our merry breakfast.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The sight of the child’s unconscious happiness was more -than he could endure; he closed his eyes that she might not -see the scalding tears which filled them.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How dreadfully ill father looks,” said Swanhild uneasily.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“His head is very bad,” said Sigrid. “Kiss him, dear, and -then run to bed.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But Herr Falck roused himself.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I too will go up,” he said. “Bed is the best place, eh, -Swanhild? God bless you, little one; good-night. What, are -you going to be my walking-stick?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And thus, steadying himself by the child, he went up to his -room.</p> - -<p class='c000'>At breakfast the next morning he was in his place as usual, -but he seemed very poorly, and afterward made no suggestion -as to going down to the office, but lay on the sofa in his study, -drowsily watching the flames in his favorite English fireplace. -Sigrid went about the house busy with her usual duties, and -for the time so much absorbed that she almost forgot the great -trouble hanging over them. About eleven o’clock there was a -ring at the door-bell; the servant brought in a telegram for -Herr Falck. A sort of wild hope seized her that it might be -from Frithiof. If anything could cheer her father on that day -it would be to hear that all was happily settled, and, taking it -from the maid, she bore it herself into her father’s room. He -rose from the sofa as she entered.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>“I am better, Sigrid,” he said. “I think I could go to the -office. Ah! a telegram for me?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It has come this minute,” she said, watching him as he sat -down before his desk, adjusted his spectacles, and tore open -the envelope. If only Frithiof could send news that would -cheer him! If only some little ray of brightness would come -to lighten that dark day! She had so persuaded herself that -the message must be from Frithiof that the thought of the business -anxieties had become for the time quite subservient. The -telegram was a long one.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How extravagant that boy is!” she thought to herself. -“Why, it would have been enough if he had just put ‘All -right.’”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then a sudden cry broke from her, for her father had bowed -his head on his desk like a man who is overwhelmed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Father, father!” she cried, “oh! what is the matter?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>For a minute or two neither spoke nor moved. At last, with -an effort, he raised himself. He looked up at her with a face -of fixed despair, with eyes whose anguish wrung her heart.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sigrid,” he said, in a voice unlike his own, “they have taken -the agency from me. I am bankrupt!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She put her hand in his, too much stunned to speak.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Poor children!” he moaned. “Ah! my God! my God! -Why—?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The sentence was never ended. He fell heavily forward: -whether he was dead or only fainting she could not tell.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She rushed to the door calling for help, and the servants -came hurrying to the study. They helped to move their master -to the sofa, and Sigrid found a sort of comfort in the assurances -of her old nurse that it was nothing but a paralytic seizure, that -he would soon revive. The good old soul knew nothing, nor -was she so hopeful as she seemed, but her words helped Sigrid -to keep up; she believed them in the unreasoning sort of way -in which those in trouble always do catch at the slightest hope -held out to them.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I will send Olga for the doctor,” she said breathlessly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ay, and for your uncle, too,” said the nurse. “He’s your -own mother’s brother, and ought to be here.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Perhaps,” said Sigrid hesitatingly. “Yes, Olga, go to -Herr Grönvold’s house and just tell them of my father’s illness. -But first for the doctor—as quick as you can.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>There followed a miserable time of waiting and suspense. -Herr Falck was still perfectly unconscious; there were signs -of shock about his face, which was pale and rigid, the eyelids -<span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>closed, the head turned to one side. Sigrid took his cold hand -in hers, and sat with her fingers on the pulse; she could just -feel it, but it was very feeble and very rapid. Thus they waited -till the doctor came. He was an old friend, and Sigrid felt -almost at rest when she had told him all he wanted to know as -to the beginning of the attack and the cause.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You had better send for your brother at once,” he said. -“I suppose he will be at the office?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, no!” she said, trembling. “Frithiof is in England. -But we will telegraph to him to come home.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My poor child,” said the old doctor kindly, “if he is in -England it would be of no possible use; he would not be in -time.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She covered her face with her hands, for the first time utterly -breaking down.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh! is there no hope?” she sobbed. “No hope at all?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Remember how much he is spared,” said the doctor -gently. “He will not suffer. He will not suffer at all any -more.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And so it proved; for while many went and came, and while -the bad news of the bankruptcy caused Herr Grönvold to pace -the room like one distracted, and while Sigrid and Swanhild -kept their sad watch, Herr Falck lay in painless quiet—his face -so calm that, had it not been for an occasional tremor passing -through the paralyzed limbs, they would almost have thought -he was already dead.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The hours passed on. At length little Swanhild, who had -crouched down on the floor with her head in Sigrid’s lap, -became conscious of a sort of stir in the room. She looked up -and saw that the doctor was bending over her father.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is over,” he said, in a hushed voice as he stood up and -glanced toward the two girls.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And Swanhild, who had never seen any one die, but had -read in books of death struggles and death agonies, was filled -with a great wonder.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It was so quiet,” she said, afterward to her sister. “I never -knew people died like that; I don’t think I shall ever feel -afraid about dying again. But oh, Sigrid!” and the child broke -into a passion of tears, “we have got to go on living all alone—all -alone!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid’s breast heaved. Alas! the poor child little knew all -the troubles that were before them; as far as possible she must -try to shield her from the knowledge.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We three must love each other very much, darling,” she -<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>said, folding her arms about Swanhild. “We must try and be -everything to each other.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The words made her think of Frithiof, and with a sick longing -for his presence she went downstairs again to speak to her -uncle, and to arrange as to how the news should be sent to -England. Herr Grönvold had never quite appreciated his -brother-in-law, and this had always made a barrier between -him and his nephew and nieces. He was the only relation, -however, to whom Sigrid could turn, and she knew that he was -her father’s executor, and must be consulted about all the -arrangements. Had not she and Frithiof celebrated their -twenty-first birthday just a week ago, Herr Grönvold would -have been their guardian, and naturally he would still expect -to have the chief voice in the family counsels.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She found him in the sitting-room. He was still pale and -agitated. She knew only too well that although he would not -say a word against her dead father, yet in his heart he would -always blame him, and that the family disgrace would be more -keenly felt by him than by any one. The sight of him entirely -checked her tears; she sat down and began to talk to him -quite calmly. All her feeling of youth and helplessness was -gone now—she felt old, strangely old; her voice sounded like -the voice of some one else—it seemed to have grown cold and -hard.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What must we do about telling Frithiof, uncle?” she said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have thought of that,” said Herr Grönvold. “It is impossible -that he could be back in time for the funeral. This is -Tuesday afternoon, and he could not catch this week’s steamer, -which leaves Hull at nine o’clock to-night. The only thing is -to telegraph the news to him, poor boy. His best chance now -is to stay in England and try to find some opening there, for -he has no chance here at all.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid caught her breath.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You mean that he had better not even come back?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Indeed, I think England is the only hope for him,” said -Herr Grönvold, perhaps hardly understanding what a terrible -blow he was giving to his niece. “He is absolutely penniless, -and over here the feeling will be so strong against the very -name of Falck that he would never work his way up. I will -gladly provide for you and Swanhild until he is able to make a -home for you; but he must stay in England, there is no help -for that.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She could not dispute the point any further; her uncle’s -words had shown her only too plainly the true meaning of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>word “bankrupt.” Why, the very chair she was sitting on was -no longer her own! A chill passed over her as she glanced -round the familiar room. On the writing-table she noticed -her housekeeping books, and realized that there was no longer -any money to pay them with; on the bookshelf stood the -clock presented a year or two ago to her father by the clerks -in his office—that too must be parted with; everything most -sacred, most dear to her, everything associated with her happy -childhood and youth must be swept away in the vain endeavor -to satisfy the just claims of her father’s creditors. In a sort of -dreadful dream she sat watching her uncle as he wrote the -message to Frithiof, hesitating long over the wording of -the sad tidings, and ever and anon counting the words carefully -with his pen. It would cost a good deal, that telegram -to England. Sigrid knew that her uncle would pay for it, -and the knowledge kept her lips sealed. It was absurd to -long so to send love and sympathy at the rate of thirty öre -a word! Why, in the whole world she had not so much as a -ten-öre piece! Her personal possessions might, perhaps, legally -belong to her, but she knew that there was something within -her which would utterly prevent her being able to consider -them her own. Everything must go toward those who would -suffer from her father’s failure; and Frithiof would feel just -as she did about the matter, of that she was certain.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There, poor fellow,” said Herr Grönvold, “that will give -him just the facts of the case: and you must write to him, -Sigrid, and I, too, will write by the next mail.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am afraid he cannot get a letter till next Monday,” said -Sigrid.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, there is no help for that,” said Herr Grönvold. “I -shall do all that can be done with regard to the business; that -he will know quite well, and his return later on would be a -mere waste of time and money. He must seek work in London -without delay, and I have told him so. Do you think this is -clear?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He handed her the message he had written, and she read it -through, though each word was like a stab.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Quite clear,” she said, returning it to him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her voice was so tired and worn that it attracted his notice -for the first time.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My dear,” he said kindly, “it has been a terrible day for -you; you had better go to bed and rest. Leave everything to -me. I promise you all shall be attended to.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are very kind,” she said, yet with all the time a terrible -<span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>craving for something more than this sort of kindness, for -something which was perhaps beyond Herr Grönvold’s power -to give.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Would you like your aunt or one of your cousins to spend -the night here?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No,” she said; “I am better alone. They will come to-morrow. -I—I will rest now.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Very well. Good-by, then, my dear. I will send off the -telegram at once.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She heard the door close behind him with a sense of relief, -yet before many minutes had passed, the dreadful quiet of the -house seemed almost more than she could endure.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, Frithiof, Frithiof! why did you ever go to England?” -she moaned.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And as she sat crouched together in one of the deep easy-chairs, -it seemed to her that the physical faintness, the feeling -that everything was sliding away from her, was but the shadow -of the bitter reality. She was roused by the opening of the -door. Her old nurse stole in.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“See here, Sigrid,” said the old woman. “The pastor has -come. You will see him in here?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t think I can,” she said wearily.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He is in the dining-room talking to Swanhild,” said the -nurse: “you had better just see him a minute.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But still Sigrid did not stir. It was only when little Swanhild -stole in, with her wistful, tear-stained face, that she even -tried to rouse herself.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sigrid,” said the child, “Herr Askevold has been out all -day with some one who was dying; he is very tired and -has had no dinner; he says if he may he will have supper -with us.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid at once started to her feet; her mind was for the -moment diverted from her own troubles; it was the thought of -the dear old pastor, tired and hungry, yet coming to them, -nevertheless, which touched her heart. Other friends might -perhaps forsake them in their trouble and disgrace, but not -Herr Askevold. Later on, when she thought it over, she knew -that it was for the sake of inducing them to eat, and for the -sake of helping them through that terrible first meal without -their father, that he had come in just then. She only felt the -relief of his presence at the time, was only conscious that she -was less desolate because the old white-haired man, who had -baptized her as a baby and confirmed her as a girl, was sitting -with them at the supper-table. His few words of sympathy as -<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>he greeted her had been the first words of comfort which had -reached her heart, and now, as he cut the bread and helped -the fish, there was something in the very smallness and fineness -of his consideration and care for them which filled her with far -more gratitude than Herr Grönvold’s offer of a home. They -did not talk very much during the meal, but little Swanhild -ceased to wonder whether it was wrong to feel so hungry on -such a day, and, no longer ashamed of her appetite, went on -naturally and composedly with her supper; while Sigrid, with -her strong Norwegian sense of hospitality, ate for her guest’s -sake, and in thinking of his wants was roused from her state of -blank hopelessness.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Afterward she took him to her father’s room, her tears -stealing down quietly as she looked once more on the calm, -peaceful face that would never again bear the look of strained -anxiety which had of late grown so familiar to her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And Herr Askevold knelt by the bedside and prayed. She -could never quite remember in after-days what it was that he -said, perhaps she never very clearly took in the actual words; -but something, either in his tone or manner, brought to her the -sense of a presence altogether above all the changes that had -been or ever could be. This new consciousness seemed to fill -her with strength, and a great tenderness for Swanhild came -to her heart; she wondered how it was she could ever have -fancied that all had been taken from her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>As they rose from their knees and the old pastor took her -hand in his to wish her good-by, he glanced a little anxiously -into her eyes. But something he saw there comforted him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“God bless you, my child,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And again as they opened the front door to him and he -stepped out into the dark wintry night, he looked back, and -said:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“God comfort you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid stood on the threshold, behind her the lighted hall, -before her the starless gloom of the outer world, her arm was -round little Swanhild, and as she bade him good-night, she -smiled, one of those brave, patient smiles that are sadder than -tears.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The light behind her, and the dark before,” said the old -pastor to himself as he walked home wearily enough. “It is -like her life, poor child. And yet I am somehow not much -afraid for her. It is for Frithiof I am afraid.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span> - <h2 id='IX' class='c005'>CHAPTER IX.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>When Frithiof found that instead of addressing a stranger -at Hyde Park Corner, he had actually spoken to Roy Boniface, -his first feeling had been of mere blank astonishment. Then -he vehemently wished himself alone once more, and cursed the -fate which had first brought him into contact with the little -child by the Serpentine, and which had now actually thrown -him into the arms of a being who would talk and expect to be -talked to. Yet this feeling also passed; for as he looked down -the unfamiliar roads, and felt once more the desolateness of -a foreigner in a strange country, he was obliged to own that it -was pleasant to him to hear Roy’s well-known voice, and to -feel that there was in London a being who took some sort of -interest in his affairs.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I wish I had seen you a minute or two sooner; my mother -and my sister were in that carriage,” said Roy, “and they -would have liked to meet you. You must come and see us -some day, or are you quite too busy to spare time for such an -out-of-the-way place as Brixton?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Thank you. My plans are very uncertain,” said Frithiof. -“I shall probably only be over here for a few days.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Have you come across the Morgans?” asked Roy, “or any -of our other companions at Balholm?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>In his heart he felt sure that the young Norwegian’s visit -was connected with Blanche Morgan, for their mutual liking -had been common property at Balholm, and even the semiengagement -was shrewdly guessed at by many of the other -tourists.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof knew this, and the question was like a sword-thrust -to him. Had it not been so nearly dark Roy could hardly -have failed to notice his change of color and expression. But -he had great self-control, and his voice was quite steady, -though a little cold and monotonous in tone, as he replied:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have just been to call on the Morgans, and have only -just learned that their business relations with our firm are at -an end. The connection is of so many years’ standing that I -am afraid it will be a great blow to my father.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>Roy began to see daylight, and perceived, what had first -escaped his notice, that some great change had passed over his -companion since they parted on the Sogne Fjord; very possibly -the business relations might affect his hopes, and make -the engagement no longer possible.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That was bad news to greet you,” he said with an uneasy -consciousness that it was very difficult to know what to say. -“Herr Falck would feel a change of that sort keenly, I should -think. What induced them to make it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Self-interest,” said Frithiof, still in the same tone. “No -doubt they came to spy out the land in the summer. As the -head of the firm remarked to me just now, it is impossible to -sentimentalize over old connections—business is business, and -of course they are bound to look out for themselves—what -happens to us is, naturally, no affair of theirs.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Roy would not have thought much of the sarcasm of this -speech if it had been spoken by any one else, but from the -lips of such a fellow as Frithiof Falck, it startled him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>They were walking along Piccadilly, each of them turning -over in his mind how he could best get away from the other, -yet with an uneasy feeling that they were in some way linked -together by that summer holiday, and that if they parted now -they would speedily regret it. Roy, with the increasing consciousness -of his companion’s trouble only grew more perplexed -and ill at ease. He tried to picture to himself the -workings of the Norwegian’s mind, and as they walked on in -silence some faint idea of the effect of the surroundings upon -the new-comer began to dawn upon him. What a contrast -was all this to quiet Norway! The brightly lighted shops, the -busy streets, the hurry and bustle, the ever-changing crowd of -strange faces.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you know many people in London?” he asked, willing -to shift his responsibility if possible.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No,” said Frithiof, “I do not know a soul.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He relapsed into silence. Roy’s thoughts went back to his -first day at Bergen; he seemed to live it all through once -more; he remembered how Frithiof Falck had got the Linnæa -for them, how he had taken them for shelter to his father’s -house; the simplicity and the happiness of the scene came -back to him vividly, and he glanced at his companion as though -to verify his past impressions. The light from a street lamp -fell on Frithiof at that moment, and Roy started; the Norwegian -had perhaps forgotten that he was not alone, at any rate -he wore an expression which had not hitherto been visible. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>There was something about his pale, set face which alarmed -Roy, and scattered to the winds all his selfishness and awkward -shyness.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then you will of course dine with me,” he said, “since -you have no other engagement.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And Frithiof, still wishing to be alone, and yet still dreading -it, thanked him and accepted the invitation.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The ice once broken, they got on rather better, and as they -dined together Roy carefully abstained from talking of the -days at Balholm, but asked after Sigrid and Swanhild and Herr -Falck, talked of the winter in Norway, of skating, of Norwegian -politics, of everything he could think of which could divert his -friend’s mind from the Morgans.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What next,” he said, as they found themselves once more -in the street. “Since you go back soon we ought to make the -most of the time. Shall we come to the Savoy? You must -certainly hear a Gilbert and Sullivan opera before you -leave.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am not in the mood for it to-night,” said Frithiof. “And -it has just struck me that possibly my father may telegraph instructions -to me—he would have got Morgan’s telegram this -morning. I will go back to the Arundel and see.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>This idea seemed to rouse him. He became much more like -himself, and as they walked down the Strand the conversation -dragged much less. For the first time he spoke of the work -that awaited him on his return to Bergen, and Roy began to -think that his scheme for diverting him from his troubles had -been on the whole a success.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We must arrange what day you will come down to us at -Brixton,” he said, as they turned down Arundel Street. -“Would to-morrow suit you?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“As far as I know, it would,” said Frithiof; “but if you -will just come into the hotel with me we will find out if there -is any message from my father. If there is nothing, why, I am -perfectly free. It is possible, though, that he will have business -for me to see to.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Accordingly they went into the hotel together, and Frithiof -accosted a waiter in the entrance hall.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Anything come for me since I went out?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, sir, I believe there is, sir. Herr Falck, is it not?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He brought forward a telegram and handed it to Frithiof, -who hurriedly tore open the orange envelope and began eagerly -to read. As he read, every shade of color left his face; the -telegram was in Norwegian, and its terse, matter of-fact statement -<span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>overwhelmed him. Like one in some dreadful dream he -read the words:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Father bankrupt, owing to failure Iceland expedition, also -loss Morgan’s agency.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>There was more beyond, but this so staggered him that he -looked up from the fatal pink paper with a sort of wild hope -that his surroundings would reassure him, that he should find -it all a mistake. He met the curious eyes of the waiter, he -saw two girls in evening-dress crossing the vestibule.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We ought to be at the Lyceum by this time!” he heard -one of them say to the other. “How annoying of father to be -so late!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The girl addressed had a sweet sunshiny face.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, he will soon be here,” she said, smiling, but as her -eyes happened to fall on Frithiof she grew suddenly grave and -compassionate; she seemed to glance from his face to the -telegram in his hand, and her look brought him a horrible perception -that after all this was real waking existence. It was a -real telegram he held, it was all true, hideously true. His -father was bankrupt.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Shame, misery, bitter indignation with the Morgans, a sickening -perception that if Blanche had been true to him the -worst might have been averted, all this seethed in his mind. -With a desperate effort he steadied his hand and again bent his -eye on the pink paper and the large round-hand scrawl. Oh, yes, -there was no mistake, he read the fatal words again:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Father bankrupt, owing to failure Iceland expedition, also -loss Morgan’s agency.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>By this time he had partly recovered, was sufficiently himself -again to feel some sort of anxiety to read the rest of the message. -Possibly there was something he might do to help his -father. He read on and took in the next sentence almost at a -glance.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“Shock caused cerebral hemorrhage. He died this afternoon.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>Frithiof felt a choking sensation in his throat; if he could -not get out into the open air he felt that he should die, and by -an instinct he turned toward the door, made a step or two forward, -then staggered and caught at Roy Boniface to save himself -from falling.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>Roy held him up and looked at him anxiously. “You have -had bad news?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof tried to speak, but no words would come; he gasped -for breath, felt his limbs failing, saw a wavy, confused picture -of the vestibule, the waiter, the two girls, an elderly gentleman -joining them, then felt himself guided down on to the floor, never -quite losing consciousness, yet helpless either to speak or move -and with a most confused sense of what had passed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is in Norwegian,” he heard Roy say. “Bad news from -his home, I am afraid.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Poor fellow!” said another voice. “Open the door some -one. It’s air he wants.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I saw there was something wrong, father,” this was in a -girl’s voice. “He looked quite dazed with trouble as he -read.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You’ll be late for the Lyceum,” thought Frithiof, and making -an effort to get up, he sunk for a moment into deeper depths -of faintness; the voices died away into indistinctness, then -came a consciousness of hands at his shoulders and his feet; -he was lifted up and carried away somewhere.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Struggling back to life again in a few moments, he found -that he was lying on a bed, the window was wide open, and a -single candle flickered wildly in the draught. Roy Boniface -was standing by him holding a glass of water to his lips. With -an effort he drank.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are better, sir?” asked the waiter. “Anything I can -do for you, sir? Any answer to the telegram?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The telegram! What do you mean?” exclaimed Frithiof. -Then as full recollection came back to him, he turned his face -from the light with a groan.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The gentleman had, perhaps, better see a doctor,” suggested -the waiter to Roy. But Frithiof turned upon him -sharply.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am better. You can go away. All I want is to be -alone.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The man retired, but Roy still lingered. He could not -make up his mind to leave any one in such a plight, so he -crossed the room and stood by the open window looking out -gravely at the dark river with its double row of lights and their -long shining reflections. Presently a sound in the room made -him turn. Frithiof had dragged himself up to his feet, with -an impatient gesture he blew out the flickering candle, then -walked with unsteady steps to the window and dropped into a -chair.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>“So you are here still?” he said, with something of relief -in his tone.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I couldn’t bear to leave till you were all right again,” said -Roy. “Wont you tell me what is the matter, Falck?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My father is dead,” said Frithiof, in an unnaturally calm -voice.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Dead!” exclaimed Roy, and his tone had in it much more -of awe and regret. He could hardly believe that the genial, -kindly Norwegian who had climbed Munkeggen with them only -a few weeks before was actually no longer in the world.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He is dead,” repeated Frithiof quietly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But how was it?” asked Roy. “It must have been so -sudden. You left him well only three days ago. How was it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“His Iceland expedition had failed,” said Frithiof; “that -meant a fatal blow to his business; then, this morning, there -came to him Morgan’s telegram about the agency. It was that -that killed him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Good God!” exclaimed Roy, with indignation in his voice.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Leave out the adjective,” said Frithiof bitterly. “If -there’s a God at all He is hard and merciless. Business is -business, you see—one can’t sentimentalize over old connections. -God allows men like Morgan to succeed, they always -do succeed, and He lets men like my father be dragged down -into shame and dishonor and ruin.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Roy was silent; he had no glib, conventional sentences -ready to hand. In his own mind he frankly admitted that -the problem was beyond him. He knew quite well that far -too often in business life it was the pushing, unscrupulous, -selfish man who made his fortune, and the man of Herr Falck’s -type, sensitive, conscientious, altogether honorable, who had -to content himself with small means, or who, goaded at last to -rashness, staked all on a desperate last throw and failed. It -was a problem that perplexed him every day of his life, the -old, old problem which Job dashed his heart against, and for -which only Job’s answer will suffice. Vaguely he felt that -there must be some other standard of success than that of the -world; he believed that it was but the first act of the drama -which we could at present see; but he honestly owned that -the first act was often perplexing enough.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Nevertheless, it was his very silence which attracted Frithiof; -had he spoken, had he argued, had he put forth the usual -platitudes, the two would have been forever separated. But -he just leaned against the window-frame, looking out at the -dark river, musing over the story he had just heard, and wondering -<span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>what the meaning of it could be. The “Why?” which -had been the last broken ejaculation of the dead man echoed -in the hearts of these two who had been brought together so -strangely. Into Roy’s mind there came the line, “’Tis held -that sorrow makes us wise.” But he had a strong feeling that -in Frithiof’s case sorrow would harden and imbitter; indeed, -it seemed to him already that his companion’s whole nature -was changed. It was almost difficult to believe that he was -the same high-spirited boy who had been the life of the party -at Balholm, who had done the honors of the villa in Kalvedalen -so pleasantly. And then as he contrasted that bright, -homely room at Bergen with this dark, forlorn hotel room in -London, a feeling that he must get his companion away into -some less dreary atmosphere took possession of him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Don’t stay all alone in this place,” he said abruptly. -“Come home with me to-night.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are very good,” said Frithiof, “but I don’t think I -can do that. I am better alone, and indeed must make up my -mind to-night as to the future.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You will go back to Norway, I suppose?” asked Roy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, I suppose so; as soon as possible. To-morrow I -must see if there is any possibility of getting back in fair -time. Unluckily, it is too late for the Wilson Line steamer, -which must be starting at this minute from Hull.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I will come in to-morrow, then, and see what you have -decided on,” said Roy. “Is there nothing I can do for you -now?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Nothing, thank you,” said Frithiof. And Roy, feeling -that he could be of no more use, and that his presence was -perhaps a strain on his friend, wished him good-night and -went out.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The next day he was detained by business and could not -manage to call at the Arundel till late in the afternoon. Noticing -the same waiter in the hall who had been present on the -previous evening, he inquired if Frithiof were in.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Herr Falck has gone, sir,” said the man; “he went off about -an hour ago.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Gone!” exclaimed Roy, in some surprise. “Did he leave -any message?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, sir; none at all. He was looking very ill when he -came down this morning, but went out as soon as he had had -breakfast, and didn’t come back till four o’clock. Then he -called for his bill and ordered his portmanteau to be brought -down and put on a hansom, and as he passed out he gave me -<span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>a trifle, and said he had spoken a bit sharp to me last night, -he was afraid, and thanked me for what I had done for him. -And so he drove off, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You didn’t hear where he was going to?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, sir; I can’t say as I did. The cab, if I remember -right, turned along the Embankment, toward Charing Cross.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Thank you,” said Roy. “Very possibly he may have -gone back to Norway by the Continent.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And with a feeling of vague disappointment he turned away.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span> - <h2 id='X' class='c005'>CHAPTER X.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>When Roy Boniface had gone Frithiof sat for a long time -without stirring. He had longed to be alone, and yet the -moment he had got his wish the most crushing sense of desolation -overwhelmed him. He, too, was keenly conscious of that -change in his own nature which had been quite apparent to -Roy. It seemed to him that everything had been taken from -him in one blow—love, hope, his father, his home, his stainless -name, his occupation, his fortune, and even his old self. It -was an entirely different character with which he now had to -reckon, and an entirely new life which he had to live. Both -character and surroundings had been suddenly changed very -much for the worse. He had got to put up with them, and -somehow to endure life. That was the only thing clear to him. -The little child by the Serpentine had given him so much -standing-ground, but he had not an inch more at present; all -around him was a miserable, cheerless, gray mist. Presently, -becoming aware that the cold wind from the river was no -longer reviving him but chilling him to the bone, he roused -himself to close the window. Mechanically he drew down the -blind, struck a light, and noticing that on the disordered bed -there lay the crumpled pink paper which had brought him the -bad news, he picked it up, smoothed it out, and read it once -more.</p> - -<p class='c000'>There was still something which he had not seen in the first -horrible shock of realizing his father’s death. With darkening -brow he read the words which Herr Grönvold had weighed so -carefully and counted so often.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I will provide for your sisters till you can. Impossible for -you to return in time for funeral. My advice is try for work -in London. No opening here for you, as feeling will be strong -against family.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was only then that he actually took in the fact that he was -penniless—indeed, far worse than penniless—weighed down by -a load of debts which, if not legally his, were his burden none -the less. There were, as he well knew, many who failed with a -light heart, who were bankrupt one week and starting afresh -<span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>with perfect unconcern the next, but he was too much his -father’s son to take the disaster that way. The disgrace and -the perception of being to blame which had killed Herr Falck -now fell upon him with crushing force; he paced the room like -one distracted, always with the picture before him of what was -now going on in Bergen, always with the thought of the suffering -and misery which would result from the failure of a firm so -old and so much respected as his father’s.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And yet it was out of this very torture of realization -that his comfort at last sprung—such comfort at least as he -was at present capable of receiving. We must all have some -sort of future to look to, some sort of aim before us, or life -would be intolerable. The veriest beggar in the street concentrates -his thought on the money to be made, or the shelter -to be gained for the coming night. And there came, fortunately, -to Frithiof, jilted, ruined, bereaved as he was, one strong -desire—one firm resolve. He would pay off his father’s debts -to the last farthing; he would work, he would slave, he would -deny himself all but the bare necessities of life. The name of -Falck should yet be redeemed; and a glow of returning hope -rose in his heart as he remembered his father’s parting words, -“I look to you, Frithiof, to carry out the aims in which I myself -have failed, to live the life I could wish to have lived.” -Yet how different all had been when those words had been -spoken! The recollection of them did him good—brought -him, as it were, back to life again—but at the same time they -were the most cruel pain.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He saw again the harbor at Bergen, the ships, the mountains, -the busy quay; he saw his father so vividly that it seemed -to him as if he must actually be before him at that very moment, -the tone of his voice rang in his ears, the pressure of his -hand seemed yet to linger with him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>What wonder that it should still be so fresh in his memory? -It was only three days ago. Only three days! Yet the time -to look back on now seemed more like three years. With -amazement he dwelt on the fact, thinking, as we mostly do in -sudden trouble, how little time it takes for things to happen. -It is a perception that does not come to us in the full swing of -life, when all seems safe and full of bright promise, any more -than in yachting it troubles us to reflect that there is only a -plank between ourselves and the unfathomed depths of the -sea. We expect all to go well, we feel no fear, we enjoy life -easily, and when disaster comes its rude haste astounds us—so -much is changed in one sudden, crushing blow.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>He remembered how he had whistled the “Bridal Song of -the Hardanger,” as he cheerfully paced the deck full of -thoughts of Blanche and of the bright future that was opening -before him. The tune rang in his ears now with a mournful -persistence. He buried his face in his hands, letting the -flood of grief sweep over him, opposing to it no thought of -comfort, no recollection of what was still left to him. If -Blanche had been faithful to him all might have been different; -her father would never have taken away the agency if -she had told him the truth when she first got home; the Iceland -expedition might have failed, but his father could have -got voluntary agreement with his creditors, he himself might -perhaps have been put at the head of the branch at Stavanger, -all would have been well.</p> - -<p class='c000'>In bitter contrast he called up a picture of the desolate -house in Kalvedalen, thought of Herr Grönvold making the -final arrangements, and alternately pitying and blaming his -brother-in-law; thought of Sigrid and Swanhild in their sorrow -and loneliness; thought of his father lying cold and still. -Choking sobs rose in his throat as more and more clearly he -realized that all was indeed over, that he should never see his -father again. But his eyes were dry and tearless, the iron had -entered into his soul, and all the relief that was then possible -for him lay in a prompt endeavor to carry out the resolve -which he had just made.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Perhaps he perceived this, for he raised himself, banished the -mind pictures which had absorbed him so long, and began to -think what his first practical step must be. He would lose no -time, he would begin that very moment. The first thing must -of course be retrenchment; he must leave the Arundel on the -morrow and must seek out the cheapest rooms to be had. -Lying on the table was that invaluable book “Dickens’ Dictionary -of London.” He had bought it at Hull on the previous -day, and had already got out of it much amusement and -much information. Now, in grim earnest, he turned over its -well-arranged pages till he came to the heading “Lodgings,” -running his eye hurriedly over the paragraph, and pausing over -the following sentence: “Those who desire still cheaper -accommodation must go further afield, the lowest priced of all -being in the northeast and southeast districts, in either of -which a bed and sitting-room may be had at rents varying from -ten shillings, and even less, to thirty shillings.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He turned to the maps at the beginning, and decided to try -the neighborhood of Vauxhall and Lambeth.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>Next came the question of work. And here the vastness of -the field perplexed him, where to turn he had not the slightest -idea. Possibly Dickens might suggest something. He turned -over the pages, and his eye happened to light on the words, -“Americans in distress, Society for the relief of.” He scanned -the columns closely, there seemed to be help for every one on -earth except a Norwegian. There was a home for French -strangers; a Hungarian aid society; an Italian benevolent; -sixteen charities for Jews; an association of Poles; a Hibernian -society; a Netherlands benevolent; a Portuguese and -Spanish aid; and a society for distressed Belgians. The only -chance for him lay in the “Universal Beneficence Society,” a -title which called up a bitter smile to his lips, or the “Society -of Friends of Foreigners in Distress.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He made up his mind to leave these as a last resource, and -turning to the heading of Sweden and Norway looked out the -address of the consulate. He must go there the first thing the -next day, and get what advice and help he could. There was -also in Fleet Street a Scandinavian club; he would go there -and get a list of the members; it was possible that he might -meet with some familiar name, and at any rate he should hear -his own language spoken, which in itself would be a relief. -This arranged, he tried to sleep, but with little success; his -brain was too much overwrought with the terrible reversals of -fortune he had met with that day, with the sorrows that had -come to him, not as</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in4'>“Single spies,</div> - <div class='line'>But in battalions!”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>Whenever he did for a few minutes sink into a doze, it was -only to be haunted by the most horrible dreams, and when -morning came he was ill and feverish, yet as determined as -before to go through with the programme he had marked out.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Swedish minister received him very kindly, and listened -to as much of his story as would bear telling, with great patience. -“It is a very hard case,” he said. “The English firm perhaps -consulted their own pockets in making this new arrangement, -but to break off an old connection so suddenly, and as it -chanced at such a trying moment, was hard lines. What sort -of people are they, these Morgans? You have met them?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, yes,” said Frithiof, coloring. “One of the brothers -was in Norway this summer, came to our house, dined with us, -professed the greatest friendliness, while all the time he must -have known what the firm was meditating.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>“Doubtless came to see how the land lay,” said the minister. -“And what of the other brother?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I saw him yesterday,” replied Frithiof. “He was very -civil; told me the telegram had been sent off that morning -about the affair, as it would not bear delay, and spoke very -highly of my father. Words cost nothing, you see.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The consul noted the extreme bitterness of the tone, and -looked searchingly into the face of his visitor. “Poor fellow!” -he reflected; “he starts in life with a grievance, and there is -nothing so bad for a man as that. A fine, handsome boy, too. -If he stays eating his heart out in London he will go to the -dogs in no time.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“See,” he said, “these Morgans, though they may be keen -business men, yet they are after all human. When they learn -at what an unlucky time their telegram arrived, it is but natural -that they should regret it. Their impulse will be to help you. -I should advise you to go to them at once and talk the affair -over with them. If they have any proper feeling they will offer -you some sort of employment in this new Stavanger branch, or -they might, perhaps, have some opening for you in their London -house.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I can not go to them,” said Frithiof, in a choked voice. -“I would rather die first.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I can understand,” said the consul, “that you feel very -bitter, and that you resent the way in which they have behaved. -But still I think you should try to get over that. After all, -they knew nothing of your father’s affairs; they did not intentionally -kill him. That the two disasters followed so closely -on each other was but an accident.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Still I could never accept anything from them; it is out of -the question,” said Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Excuse me if I speak plainly,” said the consul. “You are -very young, and you know but little of the world. If you -allow yourself to be governed by pride of this sort you can not -hope to get on. Now turn it over in your mind, and if you -do not feel that you can see these people, at any rate write to -them.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I cannot explain it all to you, sir,” said Frithiof. “But -there are private reasons which make that altogether impossible.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The blood had mounted to his forehead, his lips had closed -in a straight line; perhaps it was because they quivered that -he compressed them so.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“A woman in the question,” reflected the consul. “That -<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>complicates matters. All the more reason that he should leave -London.” Then, aloud: “If you feel unable to apply to them, -I should recommend you strongly to try America. Every one -flocks to London for work, but as a matter of fact London -streets just now are not paved with gold; everything is at a -standstill; go where you will, you will hear that trade is bad, -that employment is scarce, and that living is dear.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If I could hear of any opening in America, I would go at -once,” said Frithiof. “But at Bergen we have heard of late -that it is no such easy thing even over there to meet with work. -I will not pay the expenses of the voyage merely to be in my -present state, and hundreds of miles further from home.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What can you do?” asked the consul. “Is your English -pretty good?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I can write and speak it easily. And, of course, German -too. I understand book-keeping.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Any taste for teaching?” asked the consul.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“None,” said Frithiof decidedly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then the only thing that seems open to you is the work of -a secretary, or a clerkship, or perhaps you could manage translating, -but that is not easy work to get. Everything now is -overcrowded, so dreadfully overcrowded. However, of course -I shall bear you in mind, and you yourself will leave no stone unturned. -Stay, I might give you a letter of introduction to Herr -Sivertsen: he might possibly find you temporary work. He is -the author of that well-known book on Norway, you know. -Do you know your way about yet?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Pretty well,” said Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then there is his address—Museum Street. You had -better take an omnibus at the Bank. Any of the Oxford Street -ones will put you down at the corner, by Mudie’s. Let me -know how you get on: I shall be interested to hear.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then, with a kindly shake of the hand, Frithiof found himself -dismissed; and somewhat cheered by the interview, he made -his way to the address which had been given him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Herr Sivertsen’s rooms were of the gloomiest: they reeked -of tobacco, they were ill-lighted, and it seemed to Frithiof that -the window could not have been opened for a week. An oblique -view of Mudie’s library was the only object of interest to -be seen without, though, by craning one’s neck, one could get -just a glimpse of the traffic in Oxford Street. He waited for -some minutes, wondering to himself how a successful author -could tolerate such a den, and trying to imagine from the room -what sort of being was the inhabiter thereof. At length the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>door opened, and a gray-haired man of five and fifty, with a -huge forehead and somewhat stern, square-jawed face, entered.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have read the consul’s letter,” he said, greeting Frithiof, -and motioning him to a chair. “You want what is very hard -to get. Are you aware that thousands of men are seeking employment -and are unable to meet with it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I know it is hard,” said Frithiof. “Still I have more chance -here than in Norway, and anyhow I mean to get it.” The emphatic -way in which he uttered these last words made the author -look at him more attentively.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am tired to death of young men coming to me and wanting -help,” he remarked frankly. “You are an altogether -degenerate race, you young men of this generation; in my -opinion you don’t know what work means. It’s money that -you want, not work.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” said Frithiof dryly, “you are perfectly right. It is -money that I want.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Now Herr Sivertsen had never before met with this honest -avowal. In reply to the speech which he had made to many -other applicants he had always received an eager protestation that -the speaker was devoted to work, that he was deeply interested -in languages, that Herr Sivertsen’s greatest hobbies were his hobbies -too. He liked this bold avowal in his secret heart, though -he had no intention of letting this be seen. “Just what I -said!” he exclaimed. “A pleasure-seeking, money-grubbing -generation. What is the result? I give work to be done, and -as long as you can get gold you don’t care how the thing is -scamped. Look here!” He took up a manuscript from the -table. “I have paid the fellow who did this. He is not only -behind time, but when at last the work is sent in it’s a miserable -performance, bungled, patched, scamped, even the handwriting -a disgrace to civilization. It’s because the man takes -no pride in the work itself, because he has not a spark of interest -in his subject. It just means to him so many shillings, that -is all.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I can at least write a clear hand,” said Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That may be; but will you put any heart into your work? -Do you care for culture? for literature? Do you interest yourself -in progress? do you desire to help on your generation?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“As far as I am concerned,” said Frithiof bitterly, “the -generation will have to take care of itself. As for literature, I -know little of it and care less; all I want is to make money.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Did I not tell you so?” roared Herr Sivertsen. “It is the -accursed gold which you are all seeking after. You care only -<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>for money to spend on your own selfish indulgences. You are -all alike! All! A worthless generation!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof rose.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“However worthless, we unluckily have to live,” he said -coldly. “And as I can’t pretend to be interested in ‘culture,’ -I must waste no more time in discussion.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He bowed and made for the door.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Stay,” said Herr Sivertsen: “it will do no harm if you -leave your address.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Thank you, but at present I have none to give,” said -Frithiof. “Good-morning.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He felt very angry and very sore-hearted as he made his way -down Museum Street. To have met with such a rebuff from a -fellow-countryman seemed to him hard, specially in this time -of his trouble. He had not enough insight into character to -understand the eccentric old author, and he forgot that Herr -Sivertsen knew nothing of his circumstances. He was too abrupt, -too independent, perhaps also too refined to push his way -as an unknown foreigner in a huge metropolis. He was utterly -unable to draw a picturesque description of the plight he was -in, he could only rely on a sort of dogged perseverance, a fixed -resolve that he must and would find work; and in spite of -constant failures this never left him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He tramped down to Vauxhall and began to search for lodgings, -looked at some half-dozen sets, and finally lighted on a -clean little house in a new-looking street a few hundred yards -from Vauxhall Station. There was a card up in the window -advertising rooms to let. He rang the bell and was a little -surprised to find the door opened to him by a middle-aged -woman who was unmistakably a lady, though her deeply lined -face told of privation and care, possibly also of ill-temper. He -asked the price of the rooms.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“A sitting-room and bedroom at fifteen shillings a week,” -was the reply.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is too much, and besides I only need one room,” he -said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am afraid we can not divide them.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He looked disappointed. An idea seemed to strike the landlady.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There is a little room at the top you might have,” she said; -“but it would not be very comfortable. It would be only five -shillings a week, including attendance.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Allow me to see it,” said Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He felt so tired and ill that if she had shown him a pig-sty -<span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>he would probably have taken it merely for the sake of settling -matters. As it was, the room, though bare and comfortless, -was spotlessly clean, and, spite of her severe face, he rather -took to his landlady.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My things are at the Arundel Hotel,” he explained. “I -should want to come in at once. Does that suit you?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, yes,” she said, scanning him closely. “Can you give -us any references?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You can, if you wish, refer to the Swedish consul at 24 -Great Winchester Street.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, you are a Swede,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No; I am a Norwegian, and have only been in London -since yesterday.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The landlady seemed satisfied, and having paid his five shillings -in advance, Frithiof went off to secure his portmanteau, -and by five o’clock was installed in his new home.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was well that he had lost no time in leaving his hotel, for -during the next two days he was unable to quit his bed, and -could only console himself with the reflection that at any rate -he had a cheap roof over his head and that his rent would not -ruin him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Perhaps the cold night air from the river had given him a -chill on the previous night, or perhaps the strain of the excitement -and suffering had been too much for him. At any rate -he lay in feverish wretchedness, tossing through the long days -and weary nights, a misery to himself and an anxiety to the -people of the house.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He discovered that his first impression had been correct. -Miss Turnour, the landlady, was well born; she and her two -sisters—all of them now middle-aged women—were the daughters -of a country gentleman, who had either wasted his substance -in speculation or on the turf. He was long since dead, -and had left behind him the fruits of his selfishness, three helpless -women, with no particular aptitudes and brought up to no -particular profession. They had sunk down and down in the -social scale, till it seemed that there was nothing left them but -a certain refinement of taste, which only enabled them to suffer -more keenly, and the family pedigree, of which they were -proud, clinging very much to the peculiar spelling of their -name, and struggling on in their little London house, quarreling -much among themselves, and yet firmly determined that -nothing on earth should part them. Frithiof dubbed them the -three Fates. He wondered sometimes whether, after long years -of poverty, he and Sigrid and Swanhild should come to the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_93'>93</span>same miserable condition, the same hopeless, cold, hard spirit, -the same pinched, worn faces, the same dreary, monotonous -lives.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The three Fates did not take much notice of their lodger. -Miss Turnour often wished she had had the sense to see that -he was ill before admitting him. Miss Caroline, the youngest, -flatly declined waiting on him, as it was quite against her feelings -of propriety. Miss Charlotte, the middle one of the three, -who had more heart than the rest, tried to persuade him to see -a doctor.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No,” he replied, “I shall be all right in a day or two. It -is nothing but a feverish attack. I can’t afford doctor’s bills.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She looked at him a little compassionately; his poverty -touched a chord in her own life.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Perhaps the illness has come in order that you may have -time to think,” she said timidly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She was a very small little woman, like a white mouse, but -Frithiof had speedily found that she was the only one of the -three from whom he could expect any help. She was the -snubbed one of the family, partly because she was timid and -gentle, partly because she had lately adopted certain religious -views upon which the other two looked down with the most -supreme contempt.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof was in no mood to respond to her well-meant efforts -to convert him, and used to listen to her discourses about the -last day with a stolid indifference which altogether baffled her. -It seemed as if nothing could possibly rouse him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ah,” she would say, as she left the room with a sad little -shake of the head, “<em>I</em> shall be caught up at the second advent. -I’m not at all sure that <em>you</em> will be.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The eldest Miss Turnour did not trouble herself at all about -his spiritual state; she thought only of the risk they were running -and the possible loss of money.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I hope he is not sickening with any infectious disease,” she -used to remark a dozen times a day.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And Miss Charlotte said nothing, but silently thanked -Heaven that she had not been the one to accept the new -lodger.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_94'>94</span> - <h2 id='XI' class='c005'>CHAPTER XI.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>There is no suffering so severe as that which we perceive to -be the outcome of our own mistaken decision. Suffering caused -by our own sin is another matter; we feel in some measure -that we deserve it. But to have decided hastily, or too hopefully, -or while some false view of the case was presented to us, -and then to find that the decision brings grievous pain and sorrow, -this is cruelly hard.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was this consciousness of his own mistake which preyed -upon Frithiof’s mind as he tossed through those long solitary -hours. Had he only insisted on speaking to Blanche’s uncle -at Balholm, or on at once writing to her father, all might have -been well—his father yet alive, the bankruptcy averted, Blanche -his own. Over and over in his mind he revolved the things -that might have happened but for that fatal hopefulness which -had proved his ruin. He could not conceive now why he had -not insisted on returning to England with Blanche. It seemed -to him incredible that he had stayed in Norway merely to celebrate -his twenty-first birthday, or that he had been persuaded -not to return with the Morgans because Mr. Morgan would be -out of town till October. His sanguine nature had betrayed -him, just as his father had been betrayed by his too great hopefulness -as to the Iceland expedition. Certainly it is true that -sanguine people in particular have to buy their experience by -bitter pain and loss.</p> - -<p class='c000'>By the Saturday morning he was almost himself again as far -as physical strength was concerned, and his mind was healthy -enough to turn resolutely away from these useless broodings -over the past, and to ask with a certain amount of interest. -“What is to be done next?” All is not lost when we are able -to ask ourselves that question; the mere asking stimulates us -to rise and be going, even though the direction we shall take -be utterly undecided.</p> - -<p class='c000'>When Miss Charlotte came to inquire after her patient, she -found to her surprise that he was up and dressed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What!” she exclaimed. “You are really well then?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Quite well, thank you,” he replied, in the rather cold tone -<span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span>of voice which had lately become habitual to him. “Have -you a newspaper in the house that you would be so good as to -lend me?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Certainly,” said Miss Charlotte, her face lighting up as she -hastened out of the room, returning in a minute with the special -organ of the religious party to which she belonged. “I think -this might interest you,” she began timidly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t want to be interested,” said Frithiof dryly. “All -I want is to look through the advertisements. A thousand -thanks; but I see this paper is not quite what I need.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Are you sure that you know what you really need?” -she said earnestly, and with evident reference to a deeper -subject.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Had she not been such a genuine little woman, he would -have spoken the dry retort, “Madame, I need money,” which -trembled on his lips; but there was no suspicion of cant about -her, and he in spite of his bitterness still retained much of his -Norwegian courtesy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You see,” he said, smiling a little, “if I do not find work -I can not pay my rent, so I must lose no time in getting some -situation.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The word “rent” recalled her eldest sister to Miss Charlotte’s -mind, and she resolved to say no more just at present as to -the other matters. She brought him one of the daily papers, -and with a little sigh of disappointment removed the religious -“weekly,” leaving Frithiof to his depressing study of the column -headed “Situations Vacant.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Alas! how short it was compared to the one dedicated to -“Situations Wanted.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>There was an editor-reporter needed, who must be a “first-class -all-round man”; but Frithiof could not feel that he was -deserving of such epithets, and he could not even write shorthand. -There was a “gentleman needed for the canvassing and -publishing department of a weekly,” but he must be possessed -not only of energy but of experience. Agents were needed for -steel pens, toilet soap, and boys’ clothes, but no novices need -apply. Even the advertisement for billiard hands was qualified -by the two crushing words, “experienced only.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“A correspondence clerk wanted” made him look hopefully -at the lines which followed, but unluckily a knowledge of Portuguese -was demanded as well as of French and German; while -the corn merchant who would receive a gentleman’s son in an -office of good position was prudent enough to add the words, -“No one need apply who is unable to pay substantial premium.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>Out of the whole list there were only two situations for which -he could even inquire, and he soon found that for each of -these there were hundreds of applicants. At first his natural -hopefulness reasserted itself, and each morning he would set -out briskly, resolving to leave no stone unturned, but when -days and weeks had passed by in the monotonous search, his -heart began to fail him; he used to start from the little back -street in Vauxhall doggedly, dull despair eating at his heart, -and a sickening, ever-present consciousness that he was only -an insignificant unit struggling to find standing room in a -world where selfishness and money-grubbing reigned supreme.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Each week brought him of course letters from Norway, his -uncle sent him letters of introduction to various London firms, -but each letter brought him only fresh disappointment. As -the consul had told him, the market was already overcrowded, -and though very possibly he might have met with work in the -previous summer when all was well with him, no one seemed -inclined to befriend this son of a bankrupt, with his bitter tone -and proud bearing; the impression he gave every one was that -he was an Ishmaelite with his hand against every man, and it -certainly did seem that at present every man’s hand was against -him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>People write so much about the dangers of success and prosperity, -and the hardening effects of wealth, that they sometimes -forget the other side of the picture. Failure is always -supposed to make a man patient and humble and good; it rarely -does so, unless to begin with his spirit has been wakened -from sleep. The man whose faith has been a mere conventionality, -or the man who like Frithiof has professed to believe -in life, becomes inevitably bitter and hard when all things are -against him. It is just then when a man is hard and bitter, just -then when everything else has failed him, that the devil comes -to the fore offering pleasures which in happier times would have -had no attraction.</p> - -<p class='c000'>At first certain aspects of London life had startled Frithiof; -but he speedily became accustomed to them; if he thought of -them at all it was with indifference rather than disgust. One -day however, he passed with seeming abruptness into a new -state of mind. Sick with disappointment after the failure of a -rather promising scheme suggested to him by one of the men -to whom his uncle had written, he walked through the crowded -streets too hopeless and wretched even to notice the direction -he had taken, and with a miserable perception that his last -good card was played, and that all hope of success was over. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>His future was an absolute blank, his present a keen distress, -his past too bright in contrast to bear thinking of.</p> - -<p class='c000'>After all, had he not been a fool to struggle so long against -his fate? Clearly every one was against him. He would fight -no longer; he would give up that notion—that high-flown, -unpractical notion of paying off his father’s debts. To gain an -honest living was apparently impossible, the world afforded -him no facilities for that, but it afforded him countless opportunities -of leading another sort of life. Why should he not -take what he could get? Life was miserable and worthless -enough, but at least he might put an end to the hideous monotony -of the search after work, at least he might plunge into a -phase of life which would have at any rate the charm of novelty.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was one of those autumn days when shadow and sun -alternate quickly; a gleam of sunshine now flooded the street -with brightness. It seemed to him that a gleam of light had -also broken the dreariness of his life. Possibly it might be a -fleeting pleasure, but why should he not seize upon it? His -nature, however, was not one to be hurried thoughtlessly into -vice. If he sinned he would do so deliberately. He looked -the two lives fairly in the face now, and in his heart he knew -which attracted him most. The discovery startled him. “The -pleasing veil which serves to hide self from itself” was suddenly -torn down, and he was seized with the sort of terror which -we most of us have experienced:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“As that bright moment’s unexpected glare</div> - <div class='line'>Shows us the best and worst of what we are.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“Why not? why not?” urged the tempter. And the vague -shrinking seemed to grow less; nothing in heaven or earth -seemed real to him; he felt that nothing mattered a straw. As -well that way as any other. Why not?</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was the critical moment of his life; just as in old pictures -one sees an angel and a devil struggling hard to turn the balance, -so now it seemed that his fate rested with the first influence -he happened to come across.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Why should he not say, “Evil, be thou my good,” once and -for all, and have done with a fruitless struggle? That was the -thought which seethed in his mind as he slowly made his way -along the Strand, surely the least likely street in London where -one might expect that the good angel would find a chance of -turning the scale. The pushing crowd annoyed him; he paused -for a minute, adding another unit to the little cluster of men -which may always be seen before the window of a London picture-dealer. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>He stopped less to look at the picture than for the -sake of being still and out of the hurrying tide. His eye wandered -from landscape to landscape with very faint interest until -suddenly he caught sight of a familiar view, which stirred his -heart strangely. It was a picture of the Romsdalshorn; he -knew it in an instant, with its strange and beautiful outline, -rising straight and sheer up into a wintry blue sky. A -thousand recollections came thronging back upon him, all the -details of a holiday month spent in that very neighborhood -with his father and Sigrid and Swanhild. He tried to drag -himself away, but he could not. Sigrid’s face kept rising before -him as if in protest against that “Why not?” which still -claimed a hearing within him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If she were here,” he thought to himself, “I might keep -straight. But that’s all over now, and I can’t bear this life any -longer. I have tried everything and have failed. And, after -all, who cares? It’s the way of the world. I shant be worse -than thousand of others.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Still the thought of Sigrid held him in check, the remembrance -of her clear blue eyes seemed to force him to go deeper -down beneath the surface of the sullen anger and disappointment -which were goading him on to an evil life. Was it after -all quite true? Had he really tried everything?</p> - -<p class='c000'>Two or three times during his wanderings he had thought of -Roy Boniface, and had wondered whether he should seek him -out again; but in his trouble he had shrunk from going to -comparative strangers, and, as far as business went, it was -scarcely likely that Roy could help him. Besides, of the rest -of the family he knew nothing; for aught he knew the father -might be a vulgar, purse-proud tradesman—the last sort of man -to whom he could allow himself to be under any obligation.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Again came the horrible temptation, again that sort of terror -of his own nature. He turned once more to the picture of the -Romsdalshorn; it seemed to be the one thing which could witness -to him of truth and beauty and a life above the level of the -beasts.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Very slowly and gradually he began to see things as they -really were; he saw that if he yielded to this temptation he -could never again face Sigrid with a clear conscience. He -saw, too, that his only safeguard lay in something which would -take him out of himself. “I <em>will</em> get work,” he said, almost -fiercely. “For Sigrid’s sake I’ll have one more try.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And then all at once the evil imaginings faded, and there -rose up instead of them a picture of what might be in the future, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>of a home he might make for Sigrid and Swanhild here in -London, where he now roamed about so wretchedly, of a life -which should in every way be a contrast to his present misery. -But he felt, as thousands have felt before him, that he was -handicapped in the struggle by his loneliness, and perhaps it -was this consciousness more than any expectation of finding -work which made him swallow his pride and turn his steps -toward Brixton.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span> - <h2 id='XII' class='c005'>CHAPTER XII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>By the time he reached Brixton it was quite dusk. Roy had -never actually given him his address; but he made inquiries at a -shop in the neighborhood, was offered the loan of a directory, -and having found what he needed was soon making his way up -the well-swept carriage-drive which led to Rowan Tree House. -He was tired with the walk and with his lonely day of wasted -work and disappointment. When he saw the outlines of the -big, substantial house looming out of the twilight he began to -wish that he had never come, for he thought to himself that it -would be within just such another house as the Morgans’, with -its hateful air of money, like the house of Miss Kilmansegg in -the poem:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Gold, and gold, and everywhere gold.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>To his surprise the door was suddenly flung open as he approached, -and a little boy in a velvet tunic came dancing out -on to the steps to meet him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Roy! Roy!” shouted the little fellow merrily, “I’ve come -to meet you!” Then speedily discovering his mistake, he -darted back into the doorway, hiding his face in Cecil’s -skirt.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She stood there with a little curly-headed child in her arms, -and her soft gray eyes and the deep blue baby eyes looked -searching out into the semi-darkness. Frithiof thought the -little group looked like a picture of the Holy Family. Somehow -he no longer dreaded the inside of the house. For the -first time for weeks he felt the sort of rest which is akin to -happiness as Cecil recognized him, and came forward with a -pretty eagerness of manner to greet him, too much astonished -at his sudden appearance for any thought of shyness to intervene.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We thought you must have gone back to Norway,” she exclaimed. -“I am so glad you have come to see us. The children -thought it was Roy who opened the gate. He will be -home directly. He will be so glad to see you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I should have called before,” said Frithiof, “but my days -<span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>have been very full, and then, too, I was not quite sure of your -address.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He followed her into the brightly lighted hall, and with a -sort of satisfaction shut out the damp November twilight.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We have so often spoken of you and your sisters,” said Cecil, -“but when Roy called at the Arundel and found that you had -left without giving any address, we thought you must have -gone back to Bergen.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Did he call on me again there?” said Frithiof. “I remember -now he promised that he would come, I ought to have thought -of it; but somehow all was confusion that night, and afterward -I was too ill.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It must have been terrible for you all alone among strangers -in a foreign country,” said Cecil, the ready tears starting to -her eyes. “Come in and see my mother; she has often heard -how good you all were to us in Norway.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She opened a door on the left of the entrance hall and took -him into one of the prettiest rooms he had ever seen: the soft -crimson carpet, the inlaid rosewood furniture, the bookshelves -with their rows of well-bound books, all seemed to belong to -each other, and a delightfully home-like feeling came over him -as he sat by the fire, answering Mrs. Boniface’s friendly inquiries; -he could almost have fancied himself once more in his -father’s study at Bergen—the room where so many of their long -winter evenings had been passed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>They sat there talking for a good half-hour before Roy and -his father returned, but to Frithiof the time seemed short -enough. He scarcely knew what it was that had such a charm -for him; their talk was not particularly brilliant, and yet it -somehow interested him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mrs. Boniface was one of those very natural, homely people -whose commonplace remarks have a sort of flavor of their own, -and Cecil had something of the same gift. She never tried to -make an impression, but went on her way so quietly, that it -was often not until she was gone that people realized what she -had been to them. Perhaps what really chased away Frithiof’s -gloom, and banished the look of the Ishmaelite from his face, -was the perception that these people really cared for him, that -their kindness was not labored formality but a genuine thing. -Tossed about for so long among hard-headed money-makers, -forced every day to confront glaring contrasts of poverty and -wealth, familiarized with the sight of every kind of evil, it was -this sort of thing that he needed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And surely it is strange that in these days when people are -<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>willing to devote so much time and trouble to good works, so -few are willing to make their own homes the havens of refuge -they might be. A home is apt to become either a mere place -of general entertainment, or else a selfishly guarded spot where -we may take our ease without a thought of those who are alone -in the world. Many will ask a man in Frithiof’s position to -an at-home or a dance, but very few care to take such a one -into their real home and make him one of themselves. They -will talk sadly about the temptations of town life, but they will -not in this matter stir an inch to counteract them.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mrs. Boniface’s natural hospitality and goodness of heart -fitted her admirably for this particular form of kindness; moreover, -she knew that her daughter would prove a help and not -a hindrance, for she could in all things trust Cecil, who was -the sort of girl who can be friends with men without flirting -with them. At last the front door opened and footsteps sounded -in the hall; little Lance ran out to greet Mr. Boniface and Roy, -and Frithiof felt a sudden shame as he remembered the purse-proud -tradesman that foolish prejudice had conjured up in his -brain—a being wholly unlike the kindly, pleasant-looking man -who now shook hands with him, seeming in a moment to know -who he was and all about him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And so you have been in London all this time!” exclaimed -Roy. “Whereabouts are you staying?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Close to Vauxhall Station,” replied Frithiof. “Two or -three times I thought of looking you up, but there was always -so much to do.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You have found work here, then?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, indeed; I wish I had. It seems to me one may starve -in this place before finding anything to do.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Gwen wishes to say good-night to you, Herr Falck,” said -Cecil, leading the little girl up to him; and the bitter look -died out of Frithiof’s face for a minute as he stooped to kiss -the baby mouth that was temptingly offered to him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It will be hard if in all London we can not find you something,” -said Mr. Boniface. “What sort of work do you -want?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I would do anything,” said Frithiof. “Sweep a crossing -if necessary.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>They all laughed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Many people say that vaguely,” said Mr. Boniface. “But -when one comes to practical details they draw back. The mud -and the broom look all very well in the distance, you see.” -Then as a bell was rung in the hall: “Let us have tea first, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>and afterward, if you will come into my study we will talk the -matter over. We are old-fashioned people in this house, and -keep to the old custom of tea and supper. I don’t know how -you manage such things in Norway, but to my mind it seems -that the middle of the day is the time for the square meal, as -they say in America.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>If the meal that awaited them in the dining-room was not -“square,” it was at any rate very tempting; from the fine -damask table cloth to the silver gypsy kettle, from the delicately -arranged chrysanthemums to the Crown Derby cups -and saucers, all bespoke a good taste and the personal supervision -of one who really cared for beauty and order. The -very food looked unlike ordinary food, the horseshoes of fancy -bread, the butter swan in its parsley-bordered lake, the honeycomb, -the cakes hot and cold, and the beautiful bunches of -grapes from the greenhouse, all seemed to have a sort of character -of their own. For the first time for weeks Frithiof felt -hungry. No more was said of the unappetizing subject of the -dearth of work, nor did they speak much of their Norwegian -recollections, because they knew it would be a sore subject -with him just now.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“By the way, Cecil,” remarked Mr. Boniface, when presently -a pause came in the general talk, “I saw one of your heroes -this morning. Do you go in for hero-worship in Norway, -Herr Falck? My daughter here is a pupil after Carlyle’s own -heart.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We at any rate read Carlyle,” said Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But who can it have been?” exclaimed Cecil. “Not -Signor Donati?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The very same,” said Mr. Boniface.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But I thought he was singing at Paris?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“So he is; he only ran over for a day or two on business, -and he happened to look in this morning with Sardoni, who -came to arrange about a song of his which we are going to -publish.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sardoni seems to me the last sort of man one would expect -to write songs,” said Roy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But in spite of it he has written a very taking one,” said -Mr. Boniface, “and I am much mistaken if it does not make -a great hit. If so his fortune is made, for you see he can write -tenor songs for himself and contralto songs for his wife, and -they’ll get double royalties that way.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But Signor Donati, father, what did he say? What is he -like?”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>“Well, he is so unassuming and quiet that you would never -think it possible he’s the man every one is raving about. And, -except for that, he’s really very much like other people, talked -business very sensibly, and seemed as much interested about -this song of Sardoni’s as if there had never been anything -out of the way in his own life at all. I took to him very -much.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Can’t you get him to sing next summer?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I tried, but it is out of the question. He has signed an -agreement only to sing for Carrington. But he has promised -me to sing at one of our concerts the year after next.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Fancy having to make one’s arrangements so long beforehand!” -exclaimed Cecil. “You must certainly hear him, Herr -Falck, when you have a chance; they say he is the finest baritone -in Europe.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He made us all laugh this morning,” said Mr. Boniface. -“I forget now what started it, something in the words of the -song, I fancy, but he began to tell us how yesterday he had -been down at some country place with a friend of his, and as -they were walking through the grounds they met a most comical -old fellow in a tall hat.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“‘Halloo!’ exclaimed his friend, ‘here’s old Sykes the mole-catcher, -and I do declare he’s got another beaver! Where on -earth does he get them?’</p> - -<p class='c000'>“‘In England,’ said Donati to his friend, ‘it would hardly -do to inquire after his hatter, I suppose.’</p> - -<p class='c000'>“At which the other laughed of course, and they agreed together -that just for a joke they would find out. So they began -to talk to the old man, and presently the friend remarked:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“‘I say, Sykes, my good fellow, I wish you’d tell me how -you manage to get such a succession of hats. Why, you are -rigged out quite fresh since I saw you on Monday.’</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The old mole-catcher gave a knowing wink, and after a -little humming and hawing he said:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“‘Well, sir, yer see I changed clothes yesterday with a gentleman -in the middle of a field.’</p> - -<p class='c000'>“‘Changed clothes with a gentleman!’ they exclaimed. -‘What do you mean?’</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And the mole-catcher began to laugh outright, and leading -them to a gap in the hedge, pointed away into the distance.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“‘There he be, sir; there he be,’ he said, laughing till he -almost choked. ‘It be naught but a scarecrow; but the scarecrows -they’ve kep’ me in clothes for many a year.’”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof broke out into a ringing boyish laugh; it was the first -<span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>time he had laughed for weeks. Cecil guessed as much, and -blessed Signor Donati for having been the cause; but as she -remembered what the young Norwegian had been only a few -months before, she could not help feeling sad—could not help -wondering what sorrow had changed him so terribly. Had -Blanche Morgan been faithful to him? she wondered. Or had -his change of fortune put an end to everything between them? -In any case he must greatly resent the way in which his father -had been treated by the English firm, and that alone must -make matters very difficult for the two lovers.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Musing over it all, she became silent and abstracted, and on -returning to the drawing-room took up a newspaper, glancing -aimlessly down the columns, and wondering what her father -and Roy would advise Frithiof to do, and how the discussion -in the study was prospering.</p> - -<p class='c000'>All at once her heart began to beat wildly, for she had -caught sight of some lines which threw a startling light on -Frithiof’s changed manner, lines which also revealed to her the -innermost recesses of her own heart.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“The marriage arranged between Lord Romiaux and Miss -Blanche Morgan, only daughter of Austin Morgan, Esq., will -take place on the 30th instant, at Christ Church, Lancaster -Gate.”</p> - -<p class='c007'>She was half-frightened at the sudden rage which took possession -of her, at the bitterness of the indignation which burned -in her heart. What right had Blanche Morgan to play with -men? to degrade love to a mere pastime? to make the most -sacred thing in the world the sport of a summer holiday? to -ruin men’s lives for her own amusement? to lure on a mere -boy and flatter and deceive him; then quietly to throw him -over?</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And how about yourself?” said a voice in her heart. “Are -you quite free from what you blame in Blanche Morgan? Will -you not be tempted to hope that he may like you? Will you -not try to please him? Will it not be a pleasure to you if he -cares for your singing?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“All that is quite true,” she admitted. “I do care to please -him; I can’t help it; but oh, God! let me die rather than do -him harm!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her quiet life with the vague feeling of something wanting -in it had indeed been changed by the Norwegian holiday. -Now, for the first time, she realized that her uneventful girlhood -was over; she had become a woman, and, woman-like, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>she bravely accepted the pain which love had brought into her -life, and looked sadly, perhaps, yet unshrinkingly into the -future, where it was little likely that anything but grief and -anxiety awaited her. For she loved a man who was absolutely -indifferent to her, and her love had given her clear insight. -She saw that he was a man whose faith in love, both human -and divine, had been crushed out of him by a great wrong; -a man whose whole nature had deteriorated and would continue -to deteriorate, unless some unforeseen thing should interfere -to change his whole view of life.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But the scalding tears which rose to her eyes were not tears -of self-pity; they were tears of sorrow for Frithiof, of disappointment -about his ruined life, of a sad humility as she thought -to herself: “Oh! if only I were fit to help him! If only!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Meanwhile in the study a very matter-of-fact conversation -was being held.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What I want to find out,” said Mr. Boniface, “is whether -you are really in earnest in what you say about work. There -are thousands of young men saying exactly the same thing, but -when you take the trouble to go into their complaint you find -that the real cry is not ‘Give me work by which I can get an -honest living!’ but ‘Give me work that does not clash with -my tastes—work that I thoroughly like.’”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have no particular tastes,” said Frithiof coldly. “The -sort of work is quite indifferent to me as long as it will bring -in money.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are really willing to begin at the bottom of the ladder -and work your way up? You are not above taking a step -which would place you much lower in the social scale.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“A fellow living on the charity of a relation who grudges -every farthing, as taking something away from his own children, -is not likely to trouble much about the social scale,” said -Frithiof bitterly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Very well. Then I will, at any rate, suggest my plan for -you, and see what you think of it. If you care to accept it -until something better turns up, I can give you a situation in -my house of business. Your salary to begin with would be but -small; the man who leaves me next Monday has had only five -and-twenty shillings a week, and I could not, without unfair -favoritism, give you more at first. But every man has a chance -of rising, and I am quite sure that you, with your advantages, -would do so. You understand that, as I said, it is mere work -that I am offering you. Doubtless standing behind a counter -will not be very congenial work to one brought up as you have -<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>been; but you might do infinitely worse, and I can at least -promise you that you will be treated as a man—not, as in many -places you would find it, as a mere ‘hand.’”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Possibly, when he first arrived in London, Frithiof might -have scouted such a notion if it had been proposed to him, -but now his first question was whether he was really qualified -for the situation. Those hard words which had so often -confronted him—“Experienced only”—flashed into his -mind.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have had a good education,” he said, “and, of course, -understand book-keeping and so forth, but I have had no experience.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I quite understand that,” said Mr. Boniface. “But you -would soon get into the way of things. My son would show -you exactly what your work would be.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Of course I would,” said Roy. “Think it over, Falck, for -at any rate it would keep you going for a time while you look -round for a better opening.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, there is no need to make up your mind to-night. -Sleep upon it, and let me know how you decide to-morrow. If -you think of accepting the situation, then come and see me in -Regent Street between half-past one and two o’clock. We -close at two on Saturdays. And in any case, whether you -accept or refuse this situation, I hope you will come and spend -Saturday to Monday with us here.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are very good,” said Frithiof, thinking to himself how -unlike these people were to any others he had come across in -London. Miss Charlotte Turnour had tried to do him good; -it was part of her creed to try to do good to people. The -Bonifaces, on the other hand, had simply been friendly and -hospitable to him, had shown him that they really cared for -him, that they were sorry for his sorrow, and anxious over his -anxieties. But from Rowan Tree House he went away with a -sense of warmth about the heart, and from Miss Charlotte he -invariably turned away hardened and disgusted. Perhaps it -was that she began at the wrong end, and, like so many people -in the world, offered the hard crust of dogmatic utterances to -one who was as yet only capable of being nourished on the real -substance of the loaf—a man who was dying for want of love, -and who no more needed elaborate theological schemes than -the starving man in the desert needs the elaborate courses of a -dinner-party.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It is God’s way to reveal Himself through man, though we -are forever trying to improve upon His way, and endeavoring -<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>to convert others by articles of religion instead of the beauty -of holiness.</p> - -<p class='c000'>As Frithiof walked home to Vauxhall he felt more at rest -than he had done for many days. They had not preached at -him; they had not given him unasked-for advice; they had -merely given one of the best gifts that can be given in this -world, the sight of one of those homes where the kingdom of -heaven has begun—a home, that is, where “righteousness and -peace and joy” are the rule, and whatever contradicts this -reign of love the rare exception.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span> - <h2 id='XIII' class='c005'>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>The gloomy little lodging-house felt desolate enough to him -as he unlocked the door with his latch-key and climbed the -creaking stairs to his sparsely furnished room. Evidently the -three Miss Turnours were having a very animated quarrel, for -their voices were pitched in that high key which indicates a -stormy atmosphere, and even their words reached him distinctly -as he passed by the bedroom which was the arena of -strife.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But, my dear Caroline—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Don’t talk nonsense, my dear, you know perfectly well—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you mean to say, my dear—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I wonder,” thought Frithiof, “whether they ever allow each -other to finish a sentence. It’s like the catch that they used to -sing at Balholm, about ‘Celia’s Charms.’ If any one ever writes -a catch called ‘The Quarrel,’ he must take care to stick in -plenty of ‘my dears!’”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Strict economy in gas was practiced by the Miss Turnours, -and Frithiof had to grope about for matches. “Attendance,” -too, did not apparently include drawing down the blind, or -turning down the bed. The room looked most bare and comfortless, -and the dismal gray paper, with its oblong slabs, supposed -by courtesy to represent granite, was as depressing as -the dungeon of Giant Despair’s castle.</p> - -<p class='c000'>To stay here with nothing to do—to fag through weary days -of disappointing search after work, and then to return to this -night after night, was but a sorry prospect. Would it not indeed -be well for him if he swallowed his pride and accepted this -offer of perfectly honorable work which had been made to -him? The idea was in many ways distasteful to him, and yet -dared he reject it?</p> - -<p class='c000'>Looking honestly into his own mind he detected there something -that urged him to snatch at this first chance of work, lest, -with fresh failure and disappointment, the very desire for work -should die within him, and he should sink into a state which -his better nature abhorred. The clatter of tongues still ascended -from below. He took off his boots, dropping first one -<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>and then the other with a resounding thud upon the floor, after -the manner of men. Then wondering whether consciousness -of his being within earshot would allay the storm, he threw -down both boots at once with a portentous noise outside his -room and shut and locked the door with emphasis. Still the -female battle continued. He threw himself down on the bed, -wondering what it was that made families so different. It was -not money which gave the tone to the Bonifaces’ house. The -Morgans were infinitely richer. It was not a great profession -of religion. The Miss Turnours were all ardently and disputatiously -religious. What was it?</p> - -<p class='c000'>He fell asleep before he had solved the problem, and had an -odd, confused dream. He dreamed that he was climbing the -Romsdalshorn, and that darkness had overtaken him. Below -him was a sheer precipice, and he could hear the roar of -wild beasts as they wandered to and fro thirsting for his -blood.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“They are bound to get me sooner or later,” he thought, -“for I can never hold out till daylight. I may as well let -myself go.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And the thought of the horror of that fall was so great that -he almost woke with it. But something seemed to him to quiet -him again. It was partly curiosity to understand the meaning -of a light which had dawned in the sky, and which deepened -and spread every moment. At last he saw that it had been -caused by the opening of a door, and in the doorway, with a -glory of light all about them, he saw the Madonna and the -Holy Child. A path of light traced itself from them on the -mountain-side to the place where he stood, and he struggled -up, no longer afraid to go forward, and without a thought of -the beasts or the precipice. And thus struggling on, all details -were lost in a flood of light, and warmth, and perfect content, -and a welcome that left nothing wanting.</p> - -<p class='c000'>A pushing back of chairs in the room below suddenly roused -him. With a sense of bewilderment, he found himself lying -on the hard lodging-house bed, and heard the quarrelsome -voices rising through the floor.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Still at it,” he thought to himself with a bitter smile. And -then he thought of the picture of the Romsdalshorn he had -seen that afternoon—he remembered a horrible temptation that -had seized him—remembered Cecil standing in the open door -with the child in her arms, remembered the perfect welcome -he had received from the whole house. Should he in his foolish -pride drift into the miserable state of these poor Turnours, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>and drag through life in poverty, because he was too well-born -to take the work he could get?</p> - -<p class='c000'>“These poor ladies would be happier even in service than -they are here, in what they call independence,” he reflected. -“I shall take this situation; it’s the first step up.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The next morning he went to the Swedish Embassy to ask -advice once more.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am glad to see you,” said the consul. “I was hoping you -would look in again, for I met old Sivertsen the other day, -and he was most anxious to have your address. He said you -went off in a hurry, and never gave him time to finish what he -was saying.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof smiled.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He did nothing but inveigh against the rising generation, -and I didn’t care to waste the whole morning over that.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You have too little diplomacy about you,” said the consul. -“You do not make the best of your own case. However, -Sivertsen seems to have taken a fancy to you, and I advise -you to go to him again; he will most likely offer you work. -If I were you, I would make up my mind to take whatever -honest work turns up, and throw pride to the winds. Leave -your address here with me, and if I hear of anything I’ll let -you know.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof, somewhat unwillingly, made his way to Museum -Street, and was ushered into the stuffy little den where Herr -Sivertsen sat smoking and writing serenely. He bowed stiffly, -but was startled to see the sudden change which came over the -face of the old Norwegian at sight of him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“So! You have come back, then!” he exclaimed, shaking -him warmly by the hand, just as though they had parted the -best of friends. “I am glad of it. Why didn’t you tell me -the real state of the case? Why didn’t you tell me you were -one of the victims of the accursed thirst for gold? Why -didn’t you tell me of the hardness and rapacity of the English -firm? But you are all alike—all! Young men nowadays can’t -put a decent sentence together; they clip their words as close -as if they were worth a mint of money. A worthless generation! -Sit down, now, sit down, and tell me what you can do.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof, perceiving that what had first seemed like boorishness -was really eccentricity, took the proffered chair, and tried -to shake off the mantle of cold reserve which had of late -fallen upon him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I could do translating,” he replied. “English, German, -or Norwegian. I am willing to do copying; but there, I suppose, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>the typewriters would cut me out. Any way, I have four -hours to spare in the evening, and I want them filled.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You have found some sort of work, then, already?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, I have got work which will bring me in twenty-five shillings -a week, but it leaves me free from eight o’clock, and I -want evening employment.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Herr Sivertsen gave a grunt which expressed encouragement -and approval. He began shuffling about masses of foolscap -and proofs which were strewn in wild confusion about the -writing-table. “These are the revised proofs of Scanbury’s -new book; take this page and let me see how you can render -it into Norwegian. Here are pen and paper. Sit down and -try your hand.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof obeyed. Herr Sivertsen seemed satisfied with the -result.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Put the same page into German,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof worked away in silence, and the old author paced -to and fro with his pipe, giving a furtive glance now and then -at the down-bent head with its fair, obstinate hair brushed erect -in Norwegian fashion, and the fine Grecian profile upon which -the dark look of trouble sat strangely. In spite of the sarcasm -and bitterness which disappointment had roused in Frithiof’s -nature the old author saw that such traits were foreign to his -real character—that they were but a thin veneer, and that beneath -them lay the brave and noble nature of the hardy Norseman. -The consul’s account of his young countryman’s story -had moved him greatly, and he was determined now to do what -he could for him. He rang the bell and ordered the Norwegian -maid-servant to bring lunch for two, adding an emphatic -“<span lang="sv" xml:lang="sv">Strax!</span>” (immediately), which made Frithiof look up from -his writing.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You have finished?” asked Herr Sivertsen.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Not quite. I can’t get this last bit quite to my mind. I -don’t believe there is an equivalent in German for that expression.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are quite right. There isn’t. I couldn’t get anything -for it myself. What have you put? Good! very good. It is -an improvement on what I had thought of. The sentence runs -better.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He took the paper from the table and mumbled through it -in an approving tone.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Good! you will do,” he said, at the end. “Now while we -lunch together we can discuss terms. Ha! what has she -brought us? Something that pretends to be German sausage! -<span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>Good heavens! The depravity of the age! <em>This</em> German -sausage indeed! I must apologize to you for having it on the -table, but servants are all alike nowadays—all alike! Not one -of them can understand how to do the marketing properly. A -worthless generation!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof began to be faintly amused by the old man, and as -he walked away from Museum Street with a week’s work under -his arm he felt in better spirits than he had done for some -time.</p> - -<p class='c000'>With not a little curiosity he sought out the Bonifaces’ shop -in Regent Street. It had a well-ordered, prosperous look about -it: double doors kept the draught from those within, the place -was well warmed throughout; on each side of the door was a -counter with a desk and stool, Mr. Boniface being one of those -who consider that sitting is as cheap as standing, and the monotony -of the long shelves full of holland-covered portfolios -was broken by busts of Beethoven, Mozart, Wagner, and other -great musicians. The inner shop was consecrated to instruments -of all kinds, and through this Frithiof was taken to Mr. -Boniface’s private room.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well,” said the shop-owner, greeting him kindly. “And -have you made your decision!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, sir, I have decided to accept the situation,” said -Frithiof. And something in his face and bearing showed -plainly that he was all the better for his choice.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I forget whether I told you about the hours,” said Mr. -Boniface. “Half-past eight in the morning till half-past seven -at night, an hour out of that for dinner, and half an hour for tea. -You will have of course the usual bank holidays, and we also -arrange that each of our men shall have a fortnight some time -during the summer.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are very thoughtful for your hands,” said Frithiof. -“It is few, I should fancy, who would allow so much.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t know that,” said Mr. Boniface. “A good many, I -fancy, try something of the sort, and I am quite sure that it invariably -answers. It is not in human nature to go on forever -at one thing—every one needs variety. Business becomes a -tread-mill if you never get a thorough change, and I like my -people to put their heart into the work. If you try to do that -you will be of real value, and are bound to rise.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Look,” said Roy, showing him a neatly drawn-out plan of -names and dates. “This is the holiday chart which we worked -out this summer. It takes my father quite a long time to arrange -it all and make each dovetail properly with the others.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>They lingered for a few minutes talking over the details of -the business, then Roy took Frithiof down into the shop again, -and in the uninterrupted quiet of the Saturday afternoon -showed him exactly what his future work would be. He was -to preside at the song-counter, and Roy initiated him into the -arrangement of the brown-holland portfolios with their black -lettering, showed him his desk with account-books, order-book, -and cash-box, even made him practice rolling up music in the -neat white wrappers that lay ready to hand—a feat which at -first he did not manage very quickly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am afraid all this must be very uncongenial to you,” -said Roy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Perhaps,” said Frithiof. “But it will do as well as anything -else. And indeed,” he added warmly, “one would put -up with a great deal for the sake of being under such a man -as Mr. Boniface.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The real secret of the success of the business is that he -personally looks after every detail,” said Roy. “All the men -he employs are fond of him; he expects them to do their best -for him, and he does his best for them. I think you may really -be happy enough here, though of course it is not at all the sort -of life you were brought up to expect.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Each thought involuntarily of the first time they had met, -and of Blanche Morgan’s ill-timed speech: “Only a shopkeeper!” -Roy understood perfectly well what it was that -brought the bitter look into his companion’s face, and, thinking -that they had stayed long enough for Frithiof to get a pretty -clear idea of the work which lay before him on Monday morning, -he proposed that they should go home together. He had -long ago got over the selfish desire to be quit of the responsibility -of being with the Norwegian; his first awkward shyness -had been, after all, natural enough, for those whose lives have -been very uneventful seldom understand how to deal with -people in trouble, and are apt to shrink away in unsympathetic -silence because they have not learned from their own sore need -what it is that human nature craves for in sorrow. But each -time he met Frithiof now he felt that the terrible evening at -the Arundel had broken down the barriers which hitherto had -kept him from friendship with any one out of his own family. -Mere humanity had forced him to stay as the solitary witness -of an overwhelming grief, and he had gained in this way a -knowledge of life and a sympathy with Frithiof, of which he -had been quite incapable before.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He began to know intuitively how things would strike -<span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>Frithiof, and as they went down to Brixton he prepared him -for what he shrewdly surmised would be the chief disagreeable -in his business life.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t think you heard,” he began “that there is another -partner in our firm—a cousin of my father’s—James Horner. -I dare say you will not come across him very much, but he is -fond of interfering now and then, and sometimes if my father -is away he gets fussy and annoying. He is not at all popular -in the shop, and I thought I would just warn you beforehand, -though of course you are not exactly expecting a bed of -roses.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>It would have been hard to say exactly what Frithiof was -expecting; his whole life had been unstrung, and this new -beginning represented to him merely a certain amount of -monotonous work to the tune of five-and-twenty shillings -a week.</p> - -<p class='c000'>When they reached Rowan Tree House they found a carriage -waiting at the door.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Talk of the angel and its wings appear,” said Roy. “The -Horners are calling here. What a nuisance!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof felt inclined to echo this sentiment when he found -himself in the pretty drawing-room once more and became -conscious of the presence of an overdressed woman and a -bumptious little man with mutton-chop whiskers and inquisitive -eyes, whose air of patronage would have been comical had -it not been galling to his Norwegian independence. Roy had -done well to prepare him, for nothing could have been so irritating -to his sensitive refinement as the bland self-satisfaction, -the innate vulgarity of James Horner. Mrs. Boniface and Cecil -greeted him pleasantly, and Mrs. Horner bowed her lofty bonnet -with dignity when he was introduced to her, and uttered a -platitude about the weather in an encouraging tone, which -speedily changed, however, when she discovered that he was -actually “one of the hands.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The Bonifaces have no sense of what is fitting,” she said -afterward to her husband. “The idea of introducing one of -the shopmen to me! I never go into Loveday’s drawing-room -without longing to leave behind me a book on etiquette.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She’s a well-meaning soul,” said James Horner condescendingly. -“But countrified still, and unpolished. It’s strange -after so many years of London life.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Not strange at all,” retorted Mrs. Horner snappishly. -“She never tries to copy correct models, so how’s it likely her -manners should improve. I’m not at all partial to Cecil either. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_116'>116</span>They’ll never make a stylish girl of her with their ridiculous -ideas about stays and all that. I’ll be bound her waist’s a -good five-and-twenty inches.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, well, my dear, I really don’t see much to find fault with -in Cecil.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But I do,” said Mrs. Horner emphatically. “For all her -quietness there’s a deal of obstinacy about the girl. I should -like to know what she means to do with that criminal’s children -that she has foisted on the family! I detest people who are -always doing <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">outré</span></i> things like that; it’s all of a piece with their -fads about no stays and Jaeger’s woolen clothes. The old customs -are good enough for me, and I’m sure rather than let -myself grow as stout as Loveday I’d tight-lace night as well -as day.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She’s not much of a figure, it’s true.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Figure, indeed!” echoed his wife. “A feather-bed tied -around with a string, that’s what she is.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But she makes the house very comfortable, and always has -a good table,” said Mr. Horner reflectively.</p> - -<p class='c000'>His wife tossed her head and flushed angrily, for she knew -quite well that while the Bonifaces spent no more on housekeeping -than she did, their meals were always more tempting, -more daintily arranged. She was somehow destitute of the -gift of devising nice little dinners, and could by no means compass -a pretty-looking supper.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It seems to me, you know,” said James Horner, “that we -go on year after year in a dull round of beef and mutton, mutton -and beef.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, really, Mr. H.,” she replied sharply, “if you want -me to feed you on game and all the delicacies of the season, -you must give me a little more cash, that’s all.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I never said that I wanted you to launch out into all the -delicacies of the season. Loveday doesn’t go in for anything -extravagant; but somehow one wearies of eternal beef and -mutton. I wish they’d invent another animal!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And till they do, I’ll thank you not to grumble, Mr. H. -If there’s one thing that seems to me downright unchristian it -is to grumble at things. Why, where’s that idiot of a coachman -driving us to? It’s half a mile further that way. He -really must leave us; I can’t stand having a servant one can’t -depend on. He has no brains at all.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She threw down the window and shouted a correction to the -coachman, but unluckily, in drawing in her head again, the -lofty bonnet came violently into contact with the roof of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_117'>117</span>carriage. “Dear! what a bother!” she exclaimed. “There’s -my osprey crushed all to nothing!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, Cecil would say it was a judgment on you,” said -James Horner, smiling. “Didn’t you hear what she was telling -us just now? they kill the parent birds by scores and leave -the young ones to die of starvation. It’s only in the breeding -season that they can get those feathers at all.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Pshaw! what do I care for a lot of silly little birds!” said -Mrs. Horner, passing her hand tenderly and anxiously over -the crushed bonnet. “I shall buy a fresh one on Monday, if -it’s only to spite that girl; she’s forever talking up some craze -about people or animals being hurt. It’s no affair of mine; -my motto is ‘Live and let live’; and don’t be forever ferreting -up grievances.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof breathed more freely when the Horners had left -Rowan Tree House, and indeed every one seemed to feel that -a weight had been removed, and a delightful sense of ease -took possession of all.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Cousin Georgina will wear ospreys to the bitter end, I -prophesy,” said Roy. “You’ll never convince her that anything -she likes is really hard on others.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Of course, many people have worn them before they knew -of the cruelty,” said Cecil, “but afterward I can’t think how -they can.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You see, people as a rule don’t really care about pain at a -distance,” said Frithiof. “Torture thousands of these herons -and egrets by a lingering death, and though people know it is -so they wont care; but take one person within hearing of their -cries, and that person will wonder how any human being can -be such a barbarian as to wear these so-called ospreys.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I suppose it is that we are so very slow to realize pain that -we don’t actually see.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“People don’t really want to stop pain till it makes them -personally uncomfortable,” replied Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That sounds horribly selfish.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Most things come round to selfishness when you trace -them out.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you really quite think that? I don’t think it can be true, -because it is not of one’s self that one thinks in trying to do -away with the sufferings of the world; reformers always know -that they will have to endure a great deal of pain themselves, -and it is the thought of lessening it for others that makes them -brave enough to go on.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But you must allow,” said Frithiof, “that to get up a big -<span class='pageno' id='Page_118'>118</span>subscription you must have a harrowing account of a catastrophe. -You must stir people’s hearts so that they wont be -comfortable again till they have given a guinea; it is their own -pain that prompts them to act—their own personal discomfort.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That may be, perhaps; but it is not altogether selfishness -if they really do give help; it must be a God-like thing that -makes them want to cure pain—a devil would gloat over it. -Why should you call it selfishness because the good pleases -them? ‘<i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Le bien me plaît</span></i>’ was a good enough motto for the -Steadfast Prince, why not for the rest of us?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But is it orthodox, surely, to do what you dislike doing?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” struck in Roy, “like the nursery rhyme about</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>‘The twelve Miss Pellicoes they say were always taught</div> - <div class='line'>To do the thing they didn’t like, which means the thing they ought.’”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“But that seems to me exactly what is false,” said Cecil. -“Surely we have to grow into liking the right and the unselfish, -and hating the thing that only pleases the lower part of us?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But the growth is slow with most of us,” said Mr. Boniface. -“There’s a specimen for you,” and he glanced toward -the door, where an altercation was going on between Master -Lance and the nurse who had come to fetch him to bed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, come, Lance, don’t make such a noise,” cried Cecil, -crossing the room and putting a stop to the sort of war-dance -of rage and passion which the little fellow was executing. -“Why, what do you think would happen to you if you were to -sit up late?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What?” asked Lance, curiosity gaining the upper hand and -checking the frenzy of impatience which had possessed him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You would be a wretched little cross white child, and -would never grow up into a strong man. Don’t you want to -grow big and strong so that you can take care of Gwen?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And I’ll take care of you, too,” he said benevolently. “I’ll -take you all the way to Norway, and row you in a boat, and -shoot the bears.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof smiled.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The trouble generally is to find bears to shoot.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, but Cecil did see where a bear had made its bed up -on Munkeggen, didn’t you, Cecil?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, yes, and you shall go with me some day,” she said, -hurrying the little fellow off because she thought the allusion -to Munkeggen would perhaps hurt Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Roy was on the point of taking up the thread of conversation -again about Norway, but she promptly intervened.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span>“I don’t know how we shall cure Lance of dancing with -rage like that; we have the same scene every night.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You went the right way to work just now,” said Mr. Boniface. -“You made him understand why his own wishes must -be thwarted; and you see he was quite willing to believe what -you said. You had a living proof of what you were arguing—he -did what he had once disliked because he saw that it was -the road to something higher, and better, and more really desirable -than his play down here. In time he will have a sort -of respectful liking for the road which once he hated.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The only drawback is,” said Frithiof, rather bitterly, “that -he may follow the road, and it may not lead him to what he expects; -he may go to bed like an angel, and yet, in spite of that, -lose his health, or grow up without a chance of taking you to -Norway or shooting bears.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, what then?” said Cecil quietly. “It will have led -him on in the right direction, and if he is disappointed of just -those particular things, why, he must look further and higher.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof thought of his dream and was silent.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I’m going to make tea, Roy,” said Mrs. Boniface, laying -down her netting, “and you had better show Herr Falck his -room. I hope you’ll often come and spend Sunday with us,” -she added, with a kindly glance at the Norwegian.</p> - -<p class='c000'>In the evening they had music. Roy and Cecil both sung -well; their voices were not at all out of the common, but no -pains had been spared on their training, and Frithiof liked the -comfortable, informal way in which they sung one thing after -another, treating him entirely as one of the family.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And now it is your turn,” said Cecil, after awhile. “Father, -where is that Amati that somebody sent you on approval? -Perhaps Herr Falck would try it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, do you play the violin?” said Mr. Boniface; “that is -capital. You’ll find it in my study cupboard, Cecil; stay, -here’s the key.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof protested that he was utterly out of practice, that it -was weeks since he had touched his violin, which had been left -behind in Norway; but when he actually saw the Amati he -couldn’t resist it, and it ended in his playing to Cecil’s accompaniment -for the rest of the evening.</p> - -<p class='c000'>To Cecil the hours seemed to fly, and Mrs. Boniface, after a -preliminary round of tidying up the room, came and stood by -her, watching her bright face with motherly contentment.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Prayer time, darling,” she said, as the sonata came to an -end; “and since it’s Saturday night we mustn’t be late.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>“Ten o’clock already?” she exclaimed; “I had no idea it -was so late! What hymn will you have, father?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The Evening Hymn,” said Mr. Boniface; and Frithiof, -wondering a little what was going to happen, obediently took -the place assigned him, saw with some astonishment that four -white-capped maid-servants had come into the drawing-room -and were sitting near the piano, and that Mr. Boniface was -turning over the leaves of a big Bible. He had a dim recollection -of having read something in an English poem about a -similar custom, and racked his brain to remember what it -could be until the words of a familiar psalm broke the stillness -of the room, and recalled him to the present.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh -my help,” read Mr. Boniface. And as he went on, the beautiful -old poem with its tender, reassuring cadences somehow -touched Frithiof, so that when they stood up to sing “Glory to -Thee, my God, this night,” he did not cavil at each line as he -would have done a little while before, but stood listening reverently, -conscious of a vague desire for something in which he -felt himself to be lacking. After all, the old beliefs which he -had dismissed so lightly from his mind were not without a -power and a beauty of their own.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I wish I could be like these people,” he thought to himself, -kneeling for the first time for years.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And though he did not hear a word of the prayer, and could -not honestly have joined in it if he had heard, his mind was -full of a longing which he could not explain. The fact was -that in the past he had troubled himself very little about the -matter, he had allowed the “<span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Zeitgeist</span>” to drive him as it -would, and following the fashion of his companions, with a -comfortable consciousness of having plenty to keep him -in countenance, he had thrown off the old faiths.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He owned as much to Cecil the next day when, after breakfast, -they chanced to be alone together for a few minutes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Have you found any Norwegian service in London, or will -you come with us?” she asked unconsciously.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh,” he replied, “I gave up that sort of thing long ago, -and while you are out I will get on with some translation I -have in hand.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I beg your pardon,” she said, coloring crimson; “I had no -idea, or I should not have asked.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But there was not the faintest shade of annoyance in Frithiof’s -face; he seemed puzzled at her confusion.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The services bored me so,” he explained. He did not add -<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>as he had done to Blanche that in his opinion religion was only -fit for women, perhaps because it would have been difficult to -make such a speech to Cecil, or perhaps because the recollection -of the previous evening still lingered with him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh,” said Cecil, smiling as she recognized the boyishness -of his remark; “I suppose every one goes through a stage of -being bored. Roy used to hate Sunday when he was little; -he used to have a Sunday pain which came on quite regularly -when we were starting to chapel, so that he could stay at -home.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I know you will all think me a shocking sinner to stay at -home translating this book,” said Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, we shant,” said Cecil quietly. “If you thought it -was right to go to church of course you would go. You look -at things differently.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He was a little startled by her liberality.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You assume by that that I always do what I know to be -right,” he said, smiling. “What makes you suppose any such -thing?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I can’t tell you exactly; but don’t you think one has a -sort of instinct as to people? without really having heard anything -about them, one can often know that they are good -or bad.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I think one is often horribly mistaken in people,” said -Frithiof moodily.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes; sometimes one gets unfairly prejudiced, perhaps, by -a mere likeness to another person whom one dislikes. Oh, I -quite allow that this sort of instinct is not infallible.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are much more liable to think too well of people than -not well enough,” said Frithiof. “You are a woman and have -seen but little of the world. Wait till you have been utterly -deceived in some one, and then your eyes will be opened, and -you will see that most people are at heart mean and selfish and -contemptible.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But there is one thing that opens one’s eyes to see what is -good in people,” said Cecil. “You can’t love all humanity and -yet think them mean and contemptible, you soon see that they -are worth a great deal.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is as you said just now,” said Frithiof, after a minute’s -silence, “we look at things differently. You look at the world -out of charitable eyes. I look at it seeing its baseness and -despising it. Some day you will see that my view is correct; -you will find that your kindly judgments are wrong. Perhaps -I shall be the first to undeceive you, for you are utterly wrong -<span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>about me. You think me good, but it is ten to one that I go -to the bad altogether; after all, it would be the easiest way -and the most amusing.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He had gone on speaking recklessly, but Cecil felt much too -keenly to be checked by any conventionality as to the duty of -talking only of surface matters.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are unjust to the world, yourself included!” she -exclaimed. “I believe that you have too much of the hardy -Norseman about you ever to hanker after a life of ease and -pleasure which must really ruin you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That speech only shows that you have formed too high an -estimate of our national character,” said Frithiof. “Perhaps -you don’t know that the Norwegians are often drunkards?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Possibly; and so are the English; but, in spite of that, is -not the real national character true and noble and full of a -sense of duty? What I meant about you was that I think you -do try to do the things you see to be right. I never thought -you were perfect.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then if I do the things that I see to be right I can only -see a very little, that’s certain,” he said lightly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Exactly so,” she replied, unable to help laughing a little at -his tone. “And I think that you have been too lazy to take -the trouble to try and see more. However, that brings us -round again to the things that bore you. Would you like to -write at this table in the window? You will be quite quiet in -here till dinner-time.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She found him pens and ink, tore a soiled sheet off the blotting-pad, -drew up the blind so as to let in just enough sunshine, -and then left him to his translating.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What a strange girl she is,” he thought to himself. “As -frank and outspoken as a boy, and yet with all sorts of little -tender touches about her. Sigrid would like her; they did -take to one another at Balholm, I remember.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then, with a bitter recollection of one who had eclipsed all -others during that happy week on the Sogne Fjord, the hard -look came back to his face, and taking up his pen he began to -work doggedly at Herr Sivertsen’s manuscript.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The next morning his new life began: he turned his back on -the past and deliberately made his downward step on the social -ladder, which nevertheless meant an upward step on the ladder -of honesty and success. Still there was no denying that -the loss of position chafed him sorely; he detested having to -treat such a man as James Horner as his master and employer; -he resented the free-and-easy tone of the other men employed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>on the premises. Mr. Horner, who was the sort of man who -would have patronized an archangel for the sake of showing off -his own superior affability, unluckily chanced to be in the shop -a good deal during that first week, and the new hand received -a large share of his notice. Frithiof’s native courtesy bore him -up through a good deal, but at last his pride got the better of -him, and he made it so perfectly apparent to the bumptious -little man that he desired to have as little to do with him as -possible, that James Horner’s bland patronage speedily changed -to active dislike.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What induced you to choose that Falck in Smith’s place?” -he said to Mr. Boniface, in a grumbling tone. He persisted -in dropping the broad “a” in Frithiof’s name, and pronouncing -it as if it rhymed with “talc”—a sound peculiarly offensive -to Norwegian ears.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He is a friend of Roy’s,” was the reply. “What is it that -you dislike about him? He seems to me likely to prove very -efficient.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, yes; he has his wits about him, perhaps rather too -much so, but I can’t stand the ridiculous airs the fellow gives -himself. Order him to do anything, and he’ll do it as haughtily -as though he were master and I servant; and as for treating -him in a friendly way it’s impossible; he’s as stand-offish as if -he were a Crœsus instead of a poor beggar without a penny to -bless himself with.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He is a very reserved fellow,” said Mr. Boniface; “and -you must remember that this work is probably distasteful to -him. You see he has been accustomed to a very different -position.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, his father was nothing but a fish merchant who went -bankrupt.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But out in Norway merchants rank much more highly than -with us. Besides, the Falcks are of a very old family.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, really I never expected to hear such a radical as you -speak up for old family and all that nonsense,” said James -Horner. “But I see you are determined to befriend this fellow, -so it’s no good my saying anything against it. I hope you may -find him all you expect. For my part I consider him a most -unpromising young man; there’s an aggressiveness about his -face and bearing that I don’t like at all. A dangerous, headstrong -sort of character, and not in the least fit for the position -you have given him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>With which sweeping condemnation Mr. Horner left the -room, and Roy, who had kept a politic silence throughout the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>scene, threw down his pen and went into a subdued fit of -laughter.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You should see them together, father, it’s as good as a -play,” he exclaimed. “Falck puts on his grand air and is -crushingly polite the moment Cousin James puts in an appearance, -and that nettles him and he becomes more and more -vulgar and fussy, and so they go poking each other up worse -and worse every minute.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It’s very foolish of Falck,” said Mr. Boniface. “If he -means to get on in life, he will have to learn the art of rising -above such paltry annoyances as airs of patronage and manners -that jar on him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Meanwhile, down below in the shop, Frithiof had forgotten -his last encounter with James Horner, and as he set things in -order for the Saturday afternoon closing, his thoughts were far -away. He sorted music and took down one portfolio after -another mechanically, while all the time it seemed to him that -he was wandering with Blanche through the sweet-scented -pine woods, hearing her fresh, clear voice, looking into the -lovely eyes which had stolen his heart. The instant two -o’clock sounded the hour of his release, he snatched up -his hat and hurried away; his dreams of the past had taken -so strong a hold upon him that he felt he must try for at -least one more sight of the face that haunted him so persistently.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He had touched no food since early morning, but he could -no more have eaten at that moment than have turned aside in -some other direction. Feeling as though some power outside -himself were drawing him onward, he followed with scarcely a -thought of the actual way, until he found himself within sight -of the Lancaster Gate House. A striped red and white awning -had been erected over the steps, he caught sight of it through -the trees, and his heart seemed to stand still. Hastily crossing -the wide road leading to the church, he gained a better view -of the pavement in front of Mr. Morgan’s house; dirty little -street children with eager faces were clustered about the railings, -and nurse-maids with perambulators flanked the red felt -which made a pathway to the carriage standing before the -door. He turned sick and giddy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Fine doings there, sir,” remarked the crossing-sweeper, -who was still sweeping up the autumn leaves just as he had -been doing when Frithiof had passed him after his interview -with Blanche. “They say the bride’s an heiress and a beauty -too. Well, well, it’s an unequal world!” and the old man -<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>stopped to indulge in a paroxysm of coughing, then held out a -trembling hand.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Got a copper about you, sir?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof, just because the old man made that remark about -an unequal world, dropped a sixpence into the outstretched -palm.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“God bless you, sir!” said the crossing-sweeper, beginning -to sweep up the fallen leaves with more spirit than ever.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Violets, sir, sweet violets?” cried a girl, whose eye had -caught the gleam of the silver coin.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She held the basket toward him, but he shook his head and -walked hurriedly away toward the church. Yet the incident -never left his memory, and to the end of his life the scent of -violets was hateful to him. Like one in a nightmare, he reached -the church door. The organ was crashing out a jubilant -march; there was a sort of subdued hum of eager anticipation -from the crowd of spectators.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Are you a friend of the bride, sir?” asked an official.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No,” he said icily.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then the side aisle, if you please, sir. The middle aisle is -reserved for friends only.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He quietly took the place assigned him and waited. It did -not seem real to him, the crowded church, the whispering -people; all that seemed real was the horrible sense of expectation.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, it will be well worth seeing,” remarked a woman, who -sat beside him, to her companion. “They always manages -things well in this place. The last time I come it was to see Lady -Graham’s funeral. Lor’! it was jest beautiful! After all, -there aint nothing that comes up to a real good funeral. It’s -so movin’ to the feelin’s, aint it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>An icy numbness crept over him, a most appalling feeling of -isolation. “This is like dying,” he thought to himself. And -then, because the congregation stood up, he too dragged himself -to his feet. The march had changed to a hymn. White-robed -choristers walked slowly up the middle aisle; their -words reached him distinctly:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Still in the pure espousal,</div> - <div class='line'>Of Christian man and maid.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>Then suddenly he caught sight of the face which had more -than once been pressed to his, of the eyes which had lured him -on so cruelly. It was only for a moment. She passed by with -her attendant bride-maids, and black darkness seemed to fall -<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>upon him, though he stood there outwardly calm, just like an -indifferent spectator.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Did you see her?” exclaimed his neighbor. “My! aint -she jest pretty! Satin dress, aint it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, bless your heart! not satin,” replied the other. -“’Twas brocade, and a guinea a yard, I shouldn’t wonder.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Yet through all the whispering and the subdued noise of the -great congregation he could hear Blanche’s clear voice. “I will -always trust you,” she had said to him on Munkeggen. Now -he heard her answer “I will” to another question.</p> - -<p class='c000'>After that, prayers and hymns seemed all mixed up in a wild -confusion. Now and then, between the heads of the crowd, -he caught a vision of a slim, white-robed figure, and presently -Mendelssohn’s “Wedding March” was struck up, and he knew -that she would pass down the aisle once more. Would her -face be turned in his direction? Yes; for a little child scattered -flowers before her, and she glanced round at it with a -happy, satisfied smile. As for Frithiof, he just stood there -passively, and no one watching him could have known of the -fierce anguish that wrung his heart. As a matter of fact, -nobody observed him at all; he was a mere unit in the crowd; -and with human beings all round him, yet in absolute loneliness, -he passed out of the church into the chill autumnal air, to</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in6'>“Take up his burden of life again,</div> - <div class='line'>Saying only, ‘It might have been.’”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XIV' class='c005'>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>The cemetery just outside the Stadsport at Bergen, which -had called forth the eager admiration of Blanche Morgan in -the previous summer, looked perhaps even lovelier now that -winter had come with its soft, white shroud. The trees, instead -of their green leaves, stretched out rime-laden branches against -the clear, frosty sky; the crosses on the graves were fringed -with icicles, which, touched here and there by the lovely rays -of the setting sun, shone ruby-red, or in the shade gleamed -clear as diamonds against the background of crisp white snow. -Away in the distance Ulriken reared his grand old head -majestically, a dark streak of precipitous rock showing out now -and then through the veil which hid his summer face; and to -the right, in the valley, the pretty Lungegaarsvand was one -great sheet of ice, over which skaters glided merrily.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>The body of Sigurd Falck rested beside that of his wife in -the midst of all this loveliness, and one winter afternoon Sigrid -and little Swanhild came to bring to the grave their wreaths -and crosses, for it was their father’s birthday. They had -walked from their uncle’s house laden with all the flowers they -had been able to collect, and now stood at the gate of the -cemetery, which opened stiffly, owing to the frost. Sigrid -looked older and even sadder than she had done in the first -shock of her father’s death, but little Swanhild had just the -same fair rosy face as before, and there was a veiled excitement -and eagerness in her manner as she pushed at the -cemetery gate; she was able to take a sort of pleasure in bringing -these birthday gifts, and even had in her heart a keen -satisfaction in the certainty that “their grave” would look -prettier than any of the others.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No one else has remembered his birthday,” she said, as -they entered the silent graveyard. “See, the snow is quite -untrodden. Sigrid when are they going to put father’s name -on the stone?” and she pointed to the slanting marble slab -which leaned against the small cross. “There is only mother’s -name still. Wont they put a bigger slab instead where there -will be room for both?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Not now,” said Sigrid, her voice trembling.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But why not, Sigrid? Every one else has names put. It -seems as if we had forgotten him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, no, no,” said Sigrid, with a sob. “It isn’t that, darling; -it is that we remember so well, and know what he would -have wished about it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t understand,” said the child wistfully.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is in this way,” said Sigrid, taking her hand tenderly. “I -can not have money spent on the tombstone, because he would -not have liked it. Oh, Swanhild!—you must know it some -day, you shall hear it now—it was not only his own money that -was lost, it was the money of other people. And till it is paid -back how can I alter this?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Swanhild’s eyes grew large and bright.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It was that, then, that made him die,” she faltered. “He -would be so sorry for the other people. Oh, Sigrid, I will be -so good: I don’t think I shall ever be naughty again. Why -didn’t you tell me before, and then I shouldn’t have been cross -because you wouldn’t buy me things?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I wanted to shield you and keep you from knowing,” said -Sigrid. “But after all, it is better that you should hear it from -me than from some outsider.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>“You will treat me like a baby, Sigrid, and I’m ten years -old after all—quite old enough to be told things.... And -oh, you’ll let me help to earn money and pay back the people, -wont you?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That is what Frithiof is trying to do,” said Sigrid, “but it -is so difficult and so slow. And I can’t think of anything we -can do to help.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Poor dear old Frithiof,” said Swanhild. And she gazed -over the frozen lake to the snow mountains which bounded the -view, as if she would like to see right through them into the -big London shop where, behind a counter, there stood a fair-haired -Norseman toiling bravely to pay off those debts of -which she had just heard. “Why, on father’s last two birthdays -Frithiof was away in Germany, but then we were looking -forward so to having him home again. There’s nothing to look -forward to now.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid could not reply, for she felt choked. She stood sadly -watching the child as she bent down, partly to hide her tears, -partly to replace a flower which had slipped out of one of the -wreaths. It was just that sense of having nothing to look forward -to which had weighed so heavily on Sigrid herself all -these months; she had passed very bravely through all the -troubles as long as there had been anything to do; but now -that all the arrangements were made, the villa in Kalvedalen -sold, the furniture disposed of, the new home in her uncle’s -house grown familiar, her courage almost failed her, and each -day she realized more bitterly how desolate and forlorn was -their position. The first sympathetic kindness of her aunt and -cousins had, moreover, had time to fade a little, and she became -growingly conscious that their adoption into the Grönvold -family was an inconvenience. The house was comfortable -but not too large, and the two sisters occupied the only spare -room, so that it was no longer possible to have visitors. The -income was fairly good, but times were hard, and even before -their arrival Fru Grönvold had begun to practice a few little -economies, which increased during the winter, and became -more apparent to all the family. This was depressing enough: -and then, as Swanhild had said, there was nothing to which -she could look forward, for Frithiof’s prospects seemed to her -altogether blighted, and she foresaw that all he was likely to -earn for some time to come would only suffice to keep himself, -and could by no possibility support three people. Very sadly -she left the cemetery, pausing again to struggle with the stiff -gate, while Swanhild held the empty flower-baskets.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>“Can’t you do it?” exclaimed the child. “What a tiresome -gate it is! worse to fasten than to unfasten. But see! here -come the Lundgrens. They will help.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid glanced round, blushing vividly as she met the eager -eyes of Torvald Lundgren, one of Frithiof’s school friends. -The greetings were frank and friendly on both sides, and -Madale, a tall, pretty girl of sixteen, with her hair braided into -one long, thick plait, took little Swanhild’s arm and walked on -with her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Let us leave those two to settle the gate between them,” -she said, smiling. “It is far too cold to wait for them.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Now Torvald Lundgren was a year or two older than Frithiof, -and having long been in a position of authority he was unusually -old for his age. As a friend Sigrid liked him, but of late she -had half-feared that he wished to be more than a friend, and -consequently she was not well pleased to see that, by the time -the gate was actually shut, Madale and Swanhild were far in advance -of them.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Have you heard from Frithiof yet?” she asked, walking on -briskly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No,” said Torvald. “Pray scold him well for me when you -next write. How does he seem? In better spirits again?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t know,” said Sigrid; “even to me he writes very -seldom. It is wretched having him so far away and not knowing -what is happening to him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I wish there was anything I could do for him,” said Torvald; -“but there seems no chance of any opening out here -for him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That is what my uncle says. Yet it was no fault of Frithiof’s: -it seems hard that he should have to suffer. I think the world -is very cruel. You and Madale were almost the only friends -who stood by us; you were almost the only ones who scattered -fir branches in the road on the morning of my father’s funeral.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You noticed that?” he said, coloring.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes; when I saw how little had been strewn, I felt hurt and -sore to think that the others had shown so little respect for him, -and grateful to you and Madale.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sigrid,” he said quietly, “why will you not let me be -something more to you than a friend? All that I have is yours. -You are not happy in Herr Grönvold’s house. Let me take -care of you. Come and make my house happy, and bring -Swanhild with you to be my little sister.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, Torvald!” she cried, “I wish you had not asked me -that. You are so good and kind, but—but—”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>“Do not answer me just yet, then; take time to think it -over,” he pleaded; “indeed I would do my best to make you -very happy.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I know you would,” she replied, her eyes filling with tears. -“But yet it could never be. I could never love you as a wife -should love her husband, and I am much too fond of you, -Torvald, to let you be married just for your comfortable house.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Your aunt led me to expect that, perhaps, in time, after -your first grief had passed—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then it was very wrong of her,” said Sigrid hotly. “You -have always been my friend—a sort of second brother to me—and -oh, do let it be so still. Don’t leave off being my friend -because of this, for indeed I can not help it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My only wish is to help you,” he said sadly; “it shall -be as you would have it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And then they walked on together in an uncomfortable silence -until they overtook the others at Herr Grönvold’s gate, -where Torvald grasped her hand for a moment, then, looking -at his watch, hurried Madale away, saying that he should be -late for some appointment.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Fru Grönvold had unluckily been looking out of the window -and had seen the little group outside. She opened the front -door as the two girls climbed the steps.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why did not the Lundgrens come in?” she asked, a look -of annoyance passing over her thin, worn face.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I didn’t ask them,” said Sigrid, blushing.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And I think Torvald had some engagement,” said Swanhild, -unconsciously coming to the rescue.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You have been out a long time, Swanhild; now run away -to your practicing,” said Fru Grönvold, in the tone which the -child detested. “Come in here, Sigrid, I want a word with -you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Fru Grönvold had the best of hearts, but her manner was -unfortunate; from sheer anxiety to do well by people she -often repulsed them. To Sigrid, accustomed from her earliest -girlhood to come and go as she pleased and to manage her -father’s house, this manner was almost intolerable. She resented -interference most strongly, and was far too young and -inexperienced to see, beneath her aunt’s dictatorial tone, the -real kindness that existed. Her blue eyes looked defiant as -she marched into the sitting-room, and drawing off her gloves -began to warm her hands by the stove.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why did you not ask Torvald Lundgren to come in?” asked -Fru Grönvold, taking up her knitting.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>“Because I didn’t want to ask him, auntie.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But you ought to think what other people want, not always -of yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I did,” said Sigrid quickly. “I knew he didn’t want to -come in.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What nonsense you talk, child!” said Fru Grönvold, knitting -with more vigor than before, as if she vented her impatience -upon the sock she was making. “You must know quite well -that Torvald admires you very much; it is mere affectation to -pretend not to see what is patent to all the world.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I do not pretend,” said Sigrid angrily, “but you—you have -encouraged him to hope, and it is unfair and unkind of you. -He told me you had spoken to him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What! he has proposed to you?” said Fru Grönvold, dropping -her work. “Did he speak to you to-day, dear?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” said Sigrid, blushing crimson.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And you said you would let him have his answer later on. -I see, dear, I see. Of course you could not ask him in.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I said nothing of the sort,” said Sigrid vehemently. “I -told him that I could never think of marrying him, and we -shall still be the good friends we have always been.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My dear child,” cried Fru Grönvold, with genuine distress -in her tone, “how could you be so foolish, so blind to all -your own interests? He is a most excellent fellow, good and -steady and rich—all that heart could wish.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There I don’t agree with you,” said Sigrid perversely. “I -should wish my husband to be very different. He is just like -Torvald in Ibsen’s ‘<span lang="no" xml:lang="no">Et Dukkehjem</span>,’ we always told him so.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Pray don’t quote that hateful play to me,” said Fru Grönvold. -“Every one knows that Ibsen’s foolish ideas about -women being equal to men and sharing their confidence could -only bring misery and mischief. Torvald Lundgren is a good, -upright, honorable man, and your refusing him is most foolish.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He is very good, I quite admit,” said Sigrid. “He is my -friend, and has been always, and will be always. But if he were -the only man on earth nothing would induce me to marry him. -It would only mean wretchedness for us both.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, pray don’t put your foolish notions about equality and -ideal love into Karen’s head,” said Fru Grönvold sharply. -“Since you are so stupid and unpractical it will be well that -Karen should accept the first good offer she receives.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We are not likely to discuss the matter,” said Sigrid, and -rising to her feet she hurriedly left the room.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Upstairs she ran, choking with angry tears, her aunt’s last -<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>words haunting her persistently and inflicting deeper wounds -the more she dwelt upon them.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She wants me to marry him so that she may be rid of the -expense of keeping us,” thought the poor girl. “She doesn’t -really care for us a bit, for all the time she is grudging the -money we cost her. But I wont be such a bad friend to poor -Torvald as to marry him because I am miserable here. I would -rather starve than do that. Oh! how I hate her maxims about -taking what you can get! Why should love and equality and a -true union lead to misery and mischief? It is the injustice of -lowering woman into a mere pleasant housekeeper that brings -half the pain of the world, it seems to me.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But by the time Sigrid had lived through the long evening, -bearing, as best she might, the consciousness of her aunt’s disappointment -and vexation with her, another thought had begun -to stir in her heart. And when that night she went to her room -her tears were no longer the tears of anger, but of a miserable -loneliness and desolation.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She looked at little Swanhild lying fast asleep, and wondered -how the refusal would affect her life.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“After all,” she thought to herself, “Swanhild would have -been happier had I accepted him. She would have had a much -nicer home, and Torvald would never have let her feel that she -was a burden. He would have been very kind to us both, and -I suppose I might have made him happy—as happy as he would -ever have expected to be. And I might have been able to help -Frithiof, for we should have been rich. Perhaps I am losing -this chance of what would be best for every one else just for a -fancy. Oh, what am I to do? After all, he would have been -very kind, and here they are not really kind. He would have -taken such care of me, and it would surely be very nice to be -taken care of again.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And then she began to think of her aunt’s words, and to wonder -whether there might not be some truth in them, so that by -the time the next day had dawned she had worried herself into -a state of confusion, and had Torvald Lundgren approached -her again might really have accepted him from some puzzle-headed -notion of the duty of being practical and always considering -others before yourself. Fortunately Torvald did not -appear, and later in the morning she took her perplexities to -dear old Fru Askevold, the pastor’s wife, who having worked -early and late for her ten children, now toiled for as many -grandchildren, and into the bargain was ready to be the friend -of any girl who chose to seek her out. In spite of her sixty -<span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>years she had a bright, fresh-colored face, with a look of youth -about it which contrasted curiously with her snowy hair. She -was little, and plump and had a brisk, cheerful way of moving -about which somehow recalled to one—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“The bird that comes about our doors</div> - <div class='line'>When autumn winds are sobbing,</div> - <div class='line in2'>The Peter of Norway boors,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Their Thomas in Finland,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And Russia far inland.</div> - <div class='line'>The bird, who by some name or other,</div> - <div class='line'>All men who know it call their brother.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“Now that is charming of you to come and see me just at -the very right minute, Sigrid,” said Fru Askevold, kissing the -girl, whose face, owing to trouble and sleeplessness, looked more -worn than her own. “I’ve just been cutting out Ingeborg’s -new frock, and am wanting to sit down and rest a little. -What do you think of the color! Pretty, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Charming,” said Sigrid. “Let me do the tacking for you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, no; you look tired, my child; sit down here by the -stove, and I will tack it together as we chat. What makes -those dark patches beneath your eyes.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, it is nothing. I could not sleep last night, that is all.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Because you were worrying over something. That does -not pay, child; give it up. It’s a bad habit.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t think I can help it,” said Sigrid. “We all of us -have a natural tendency that way. Don’t you remember how -Frithiof never could sleep before an examination?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And you perhaps were worrying your brain about him? -Was that it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Partly,” said Sigrid, looking down and speaking nervously. -“You see it was in this way—I had a chance of becoming rich -and well to do, of stepping into a position which would have -made me able to help the others, and because it did not come -up to my own notion of happiness I threw away the chance.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And so little by little and mentioning no name, she put -before the motherly old lady all the facts of the case.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Child,” said Fru Askevold, “I have only one piece of advice -to give you—be true to your own ideal.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But then one’s own ideal may be unattainable in this world.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Perhaps, and if so it can’t be helped. But if you mean your -marriage to be a happy one, then be true. Half the unhappy -marriages come from people stooping to take just what they can -get. If you accepted this man’s offer you might be wronging -some girl who is really capable of loving him properly.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>“Then you mean that some of us have higher ideals than -others?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, yes, to be sure; it is the same in this as in every -thing else, and what you have to do is just to shut your ears to -all the well-meaning but false maxims of the world, and listen -to the voice in your own heart. Depend upon it, you will be -able to do far more for Frithiof and Swanhild if you are true to -yourself than you would be able to do as a rich woman and -an unhappy wife.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid was silent for some moments.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Thank you,” she said, at length. “I see things much more -clearly now; last night I could only see things through Aunt -Grönvold’s spectacles, and I think they must be very short-sighted -ones.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Fru Askevold laughed merrily.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That is quite true,” she said. “The marriages brought -about by scheming relatives may look promising enough at first, -but in the long run they always bring trouble and misery. -The true marriages are made in heaven, Sigrid, though folks -are slow to believe that.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid went away comforted, yet nevertheless life was not very -pleasant to her just then, for although she had the satisfaction -of seeing Torvald walking the streets of Bergen without any -signs of great dejection in his face, she had all day long to endure -the consciousness of her aunt’s vexation, and to feel in every -little economy that this need not have been practiced had she -decided as Fru Grönvold wished. It was on the whole a very -dreary Christmas, yet the sadness was brightened by one little -act of kindness and courtesy which to the end of her life she -never forgot. For after all it is that which is rare that makes -a deep impression on us. The word of praise spoken at the -beginning of our career lingers forever in our hearts with something -of the glow of encouragement and hopefulness which it -first kindled there; while the applause of later years glides off -us like water off a duck’s back. The little bit of kindness -shown in days of trouble is remembered when greater kindness -during days of prosperity has been forgotten.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was Christmas-eve. Sigrid sat in her cold bedroom, -wrapped round in an eider-down quilt. She was reading over -again the letter she had last received from Frithiof, just one of -those short unsatisfying letters which of late he had sent her. -From Germany he had written amusingly enough, but these London -letters often left her more unhappy than they found her, not -so much from anything they said as from what they left unsaid. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>Since last Christmas all had been taken away from her, and -now it seemed to her that even Frithiof’s love was growing -cold, and her tears fell fast on the thin little sheet of paper -where she had tried so hard to read love and hope between the -lines, and had tried in vain.</p> - -<p class='c000'>A knock at the door made her dry her eyes hastily, and she -was relieved to find that it was not her Cousin Karen who entered, -but Swanhild, with a sunny face and blue eyes dancing -with excitement.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Look, Sigrid,” she cried, “here is a parcel which looks exactly -like a present. Do make haste and open it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>They cut the string and folded back the paper, Sigrid giving a -little cry of surprise as she saw before her the water-color -sketch of Bergen, which had been her father’s last present to -her on the day before his death. Unable to pay for it, she had -asked the proprietor of the shop to take it back again, and had -been relieved by his ready consent. Glancing quickly at the -accompanying note, she saw that it bore his signature. It ran -as follows:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<span class='sc'>Madame</span>: Will you do me the honor of accepting the -water-color sketch of Bergen chosen by the late Herr Falck in -October. At your wish I took back the picture then and regarded -the purchase as though it had never been made. I now -ask you to receive it as a Christmas-gift and a slight token of -my respect for the memory of your father,” etc., etc.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh!” cried Sigrid, “isn’t that good of him! And how -nice of him to wait for Christmas instead of sending it straight -back. Now I shall have something to send to Frithiof. It -will get to him in time for the new year.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Swanhild clapped her hands.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What a splendid idea! I had not thought of that. And -we shall have it up here just for Christmas-day. How pretty -it is! People are very kind, I think!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And Sigrid felt the little clinging arm round her waist, and -as they looked at the picture together she smoothed back the -child’s golden hair tenderly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” she said, smiling, “after all, people are very kind.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XV' class='c005'>CHAPTER XV.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>As Preston Askevold had feared, Frithiof bore the troubles -much less easily. He was without Sigrid’s sweetness of nature, -without her patience, and the little touch of philosophic -<span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>matter-of-factness which helped her to endure. He was far -more sensitive too, and was terribly handicapped by the bitterness -which was the almost inevitable result of his treatment by -Blanche Morgan, a bitterness which stirred him up into a sort -of contemptuous hatred of both God and man. Sigrid, with -her quiet common sense, her rarely expressed but very real -faith, struggled on through the winter and the spring, and in the -process managed to grow and develop; but Frithiof, in his desolate -London lodgings, with his sore heart and rebellious intellect, -grew daily more hard and morose. Had it not been for -the Bonifaces he must have gone altogether to the bad, but the -days which he spent every now and then in that quiet, simple -household, where kindness reigned supreme, saved him from -utter ruin. For always through the darkest part of every life -there runs, though we may sometimes fail to see it, this “golden -thread of love,” so that even the worst man on earth is not -wholly cut off from God, since He will, by some means or -other, eternally try to draw him out of death into life. We -are astounded now and then to read that some cold-blooded -murderer, some man guilty of a hideous crime, will ask in his -last moments to see a child who loved him devotedly, and whom -he also loved. We are astonished just because we do not understand -the untiring heart of the All-Father who in His goodness -often gives to the vilest sinner the love of a pure-hearted -woman or child. So true is the beautiful old Latin saying, -long in the world but little believed, “<span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Mergere nos patitur, sed -non submergere, Christus</span>” (Christ lets us sink may be, but -not drown).</p> - -<p class='c000'>Just at this time there was only one thing on which Frithiof -found any satisfaction, and that was in the little store of money -which by slow degrees he was able to place in the savings bank. -In what way it could ever grow into a sum large enough to -pay his father’s creditors he did not trouble himself to think, -but week by week it did increase, and with this one aim in life -he struggled on, working early and late, and living on an -amount of food which could have horrified an Englishman. -Luckily he had discovered a place in Oxford Street where he -could get a good dinner every day for sixpence, but this was -practically his only meal, and after some months the scanty fare -began to tell upon him, so that even the Miss Turnours noticed -that something was wrong.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That young man looks to me underfed,” said Miss Caroline -one day. “I met him on the stairs just now, and he seems to -me to have grown paler and thinner. What does he have -<span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>for breakfast, Charlotte? Does he eat as well as the other -lodgers?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Dear me, no,” said Miss Charlotte. “It’s my belief that -he eats nothing at all but ship’s biscuits. There’s a tin of them -up in his room, and a tin of cocoa, which he makes for himself. -All I ever take him is a jug of boiling water night and morning!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Poor fellow!” said Miss Caroline, sighing a little as she -plaited some lace which must have been washed a hundred -times into her dress.</p> - -<p class='c000'>A delicate carefulness in these little details of dress distinguished -the three ladies—they had inherited it with the spelling -of their name and other tokens of good breeding.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I feel sorry for him,” she added. “He always bows very -politely when I meet him, and he is remarkably good-looking, -though with a disagreeable expression.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“When one is hungry one seldom looks agreeable,” said Miss -Charlotte. “I wish I had noticed him before,” and she remembered, -with a little pang of remorse, that she had more than -once preached to him about his soul, while all the time she had -been too dreamy and unobservant to see what was really wrong -with him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Suppose,” she said timidly, “suppose I were to take him a -little of the stewed American beef we shall have for supper.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Send it up by the girl,” said Miss Turnour, “she is still in -the kitchen. Don’t take it yourself—it would be awkward for -both of you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>So Miss Charlotte meekly obeyed, and sent up by the shabby -servant-girl a most savory little supper. Unluckily the girl was -a pert cockney, and her loud, abrupt knock at the door in itself -irritated Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Come in,” he said, in a surly tone.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Look here,” said the girl, “here’s something to put you in -a better temper. Missus’s compliments, and she begs you’ll -accept it,” and she thrust the tray at him with a derisive grin.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Have the goodness to take that down again,” said Frithiof, -in a fit of unreasoning anger. “I’ll not be treated like your mistress’ -pet dog.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Something in his manner cowed the girl. She beat a hasty -retreat, and was planning how she could manage to eat the despised -supper herself, when at the foot of the stairs she met -Miss Charlotte, and her project was nipped in the bud.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It aint no use, miss, ’e wont touch it,” she explained; -“’e was as angry as could be, and says ’e, ‘Take it away. I’ll -<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>not be treated like your mistress’ pet dog,’ says ’e. So, bein’ -frightened, I ran downstairs agen.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Miss Charlotte looked troubled, and later on, when as usual -she took up the jug of hot water, she felt nervous and uncomfortable, -and her knock was more timid than ever. However, -she had scarcely set down the jug on the floor when there came -sounds of hasty footsteps in the room, and Frithiof flung open -the door.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I beg your pardon,” he said. “You meant to be kind, I’m -sure, but the girl was rude, and I lost my temper. I ask your -forgiveness.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>There were both pathetic and comic elements in the little -scene; the meek Miss Charlotte stood trembling as if she had -seen a ghost, gazing up at the tall Norseman who, in the hurry -of the moment, had forgotten to remove the wet towel which, -in common with most night-workers, he was in the habit of -tying round his forehead.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Miss Charlotte stooped to pick up the jug.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am so sorry the girl was rude,” she said. “I wish I had -brought it myself. You see, it was in this way; we all thought -you looking so poorly, and we were having the beef for supper -and we thought perhaps you might fancy some, and—and—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It was very good of you,” he said, touched, in spite of himself, -by the kindness. “I regret what I said, but you must -make allowance for a bad-tempered man with a splitting headache.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Is that the reason you tie it up?” asked Miss Charlotte.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He laughed and pulled off the towel, passing his hand over -the mass of thick light hair which it had disordered.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It keeps it cooler,” he said, “and I can get through more -work.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She glanced at the table, and saw that it was covered with -papers and books.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Are you wise to do so much work after being busy all day?” -she said. “It seems to me that you are not looking well.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is nothing but headache,” he said. “And the work is -the only pleasure I have in the world.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I was afraid from your looks that you had a hard life,” she -said hesitatingly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is not hard outwardly. As far as work goes it is easy -enough, but there is a deadly monotony about it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ah! if only”—she began.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He interrupted her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I know quite well what you are going to say—you are going -<span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>to recommend me to attend one of those religious meetings -where people get so full of a delightful excitement. Believe -me, they would not have the slightest effect on me. And yet, -if you wish it, I will go. It shall be my sign of penitence for -my rudeness just now.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Miss Charlotte could not make out whether his smile was -sarcastic or genuine. However, she took him at his word, and -the next evening carried him off to a big brightly lighted hall, -to a revivalist meeting, from which she hoped great things.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was a hot June evening. He came there tired with the -long day’s work, and his head felt dull and heavy. Merely -out of politeness to his companion he tried to take some sort -of interest in what went on, stifled his inclination to laugh -now and then, and watched the proceedings attentively, though -wearily enough. In front of him rose a large platform with -tiers of seats one above the other. The men and women -seated there had bright-looking faces. Some looked self-conscious -and self-satisfied, several of the women seemed overwrought -and hysterical, but others had a genuine look of -content which impressed him. Down below was a curiously -heterogeneous collection of instruments—cornets, drums, tambourines, -trumpets, and pipes. A hymn was given out, followed -by a chorus; the words were solemn, but the tune was -the reverse; still it seemed to please the audience, who sung -three choruses to each verse, the first loud, the second louder, -the third a perfect frenzy of sound, the drums thundering, the -tambourines dashing about wildly, the pipes and cornets at -their shrillest, and every one present singing or shouting with -all his might. It took him some time to recover from the appalling -noise, and meantime a woman was praying. He did not -much attend to what she said, but the audience seemed to agree -with her, for every minute or two there was a chorus of fervent -“Amens,” which rolled through the hall like distant thunder. -After that the young man who conducted the meeting read a -story out of the Bible, and spoke well and with a sort of simple -directness. There was very little in what he said, but he meant -every word of it. It might have been summed up in three sentences: -“There is only one way of being happy. I have tried -it and have found it answer. All you who haven’t tried it -begin at once.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But the words which meant much to him conveyed nothing -to Frithiof. He listened, and wondered how a man of his own -age could possibly get up and say such things. What was it he -had found? How had he found it? If the speaker had shown -<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>the least sign of vanity his words would have been utterly powerless; -but his quiet positiveness impressed people, and it was -apparent to every one that he believed in a strength which was -not his own. There followed much that seemed to Frithiof -monotonous and undesirable; about thirty people on the platform, -one after another, got up and spoke a few words, which -invariably began with “I thank the Lord I was saved on such -and such a night.” He wondered and wondered what the -phrase meant to them, and revolved in his mind all the -theological dogmas he had ever heard of. Suddenly he was -startled to find that some one was addressing him, a hymn -was being sung, and there was a good deal of movement in the -hall; people went and came, and an elderly woman had stepped -forward and taken a place beside him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Brother,” she said to him, “are you saved?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Madame,” he replied coldly, “I have not the slightest idea.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, then,” she said, with a little gesture that reminded -him of Miss Charlotte, “let me beg you to come at once to -Christ.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Madame,” he said, still in his coldly polite voice, “you -must really excuse me, but I do not know what you mean.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She was so much surprised and puzzled by both words and -manner that she hesitated what to reply; and Frithiof, who -hated being questioned, took his hat from the bench, and bowing -formally to her, left the hall. In the street he was joined -by Miss Charlotte.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh!” she exclaimed, “I am so sorry you said that. You -will have made that poor woman so terribly unhappy.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is all her own fault,” said Frithiof. “Why did she come -meddling with my private affairs? If her belief was real she -would have been able to explain it in a rational way, instead of -using phrases which are just empty words.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You didn’t leave her time to explain. And as to her belief -being real, do you think, if it were not real, that little, frail -woman would have had courage to go twice to prison for speaking -in the streets? Do you think she would have been able to -convert the most abandoned thieves, and induce them to make -restitution, paying in week by week what they could earn to -replace what they had stolen?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Does she do that? Then I respect her. When you see -her again please apologize for my abruptness, and tell her that -her form of religion is too noisy for my head and too illogical -for my mind.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>They walked home in silence, Miss Charlotte grieving over -<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>the hopeless failure of the meeting to achieve what she desired. -She had not yet learned that different natures need different -kinds of food, and that to expect Frithiof to swallow the teachings -which exactly suited certain minds was about as sensible -as to feed a baby with Thorley’s Food for Cattle. However, -there never yet was an honest attempt to do good which really -failed, though the vast majority fail apparently. It was impossible -that the revivalists’ teaching could ever be accepted by the -Norseman; but their ardent devotion, their practical, aggressive -lives, impressed him not a little, and threw a somewhat -disagreeable light over his own selfishness. Partly owing to -this, partly from physical causes, he felt bitterly out of heart -with himself for the next few weeks. In truth he was thoroughly -out of health, and he had not the only power which can hold -irritability in check—the strong restraint of love. Except a -genuine liking for the Bonifaces, he had nothing to take him out -of himself, and he was quite ready to return with interest the -dislike which the other men in the shop felt for him, first on -account of his foreign birth, but chiefly because of his proud -manner and hasty temper. Sometimes he felt that he could -bear the life no longer; and at times, out of his very wretchedness, -there sprung up in him a vague pity for those who were -in his own position. As he stood there behind the counter he -would say to himself, “There are thousands and thousands in -this city alone who have day after day to endure this horrible -monotony, to serve the customers who are rude, and the customers -who are civil, the hurried ones who are all impatience, the -tiresome ones who dawdle, the bores, who give you as much -trouble as they can, often for nothing. One day follows another -eternally in the same dull round. I am a hundred times -better off than most—there are no hurried meals here, no fines, -no unfairness—and yet what drudgery it is!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And as he glanced out at the sunny street and heard the sound -of horses’ hoofs in the road, a wild longing used to seize him for -the freedom and variety of his life in Norway, and the old fierce -rebellion against his fate woke once more in his heart, and made -him ready to fly into a rage on the smallest provocation.</p> - -<p class='c000'>One day he was sent for to Mr. Boniface’s private room; he -was quite well aware that his manner, even to Roy himself, whom -he liked, had been disagreeable in the extreme, and the thought -crossed his mind that he was going to receive notice to leave.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mr. Boniface was sitting at his writing-table, the sunlight -fell on his quiet, refined face, lighted up his white hair and -trim beard, and made his kindly gray eyes brighter than ever. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>“I wanted a few words with you, Falck,” he said. “Sit -down. It seems to me that you have not been looking well -lately, and I thought perhaps you had better take your holiday -at once instead of the third week in August. I have spoken -to Darnell, and he would be willing to give you his turn and -take the later time. What do you think?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are very good, sir,” said Frithiof, “but I shall do very -well with the August holiday, and, as a matter of fact, it will -only mean that I shall do more translating.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Would you not do well to go home? Come, think of it, I -would give you three weeks if you want to go to Bergen.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof felt a choking sensation in his throat, because it was -of the old life that he had been dreaming all the morning with -a restless, miserable craving.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Thank you,” he said, with an effort, “but I can not go -back to Norway.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Now, tell me candidly, Falck, is it the question of expense -that hinders you?” said Mr. Boniface. “Because if it is merely -that, I would gladly lend you the money. You must remember -that you have had a great deal to bear lately, and I think -you ought to give yourself a good rest.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Thank you,” replied Frithiof, “but it is not exactly the -expense. I have money enough in hand to pay for my passage, -but I have made up my mind not to go back till I can clear off -the last of the debts of—of our firm,” he concluded, with a -slight quiver in his voice.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is a noble resolution,” said Mr. Boniface, “and I would -not for a moment discourage you. Still you must remember that -it is a great undertaking, and that without good health you can -never hope for success. I don’t think you get enough exercise. -Now, why don’t you join our cricket club?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t play,” said Frithiof. “In Norway we are not great -at those games, or indeed at any kind of exercise for the mere -sake of exercise. That is an idea that one only finds among -Englishmen.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Possibly; but living in our climate you would do well to -follow our habits. Come, let me persuade you to join the club. -You look to me as if you needed greater variety.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I will think about it for next year; but just now I have -work for Herr Sivertsen on hand which I can’t put aside,” said -Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, then, things must go on as they are for the present,” -said Mr. Boniface; “but at least you can bring your translating -down to Rowan Tree House, and spend your holiday with us.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>“You are very kind,” said Frithiof, the boyish expression -returning to his face just for a minute. “I shall be only too -delighted.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And the interview seemed somehow to have done him good, -for during the next few days he was less irritable, and found -his work in consequence less irksome.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XVI' class='c005'>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>But the change for the better did not last long, for Frithiof -was without the motive which “makes drudgery divine.” And -there was no denying that the work he had to do was really -drudgery.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It has been the fashion of late years to dwell much on the misery -of the slums, and most of us are quite ready to be stirred into -active sympathy with the abjectly poor, the hungry, or the destitute. -It is to be feared, however, that very few of us have -much consideration for the less romantic, less sensational lives -of the middle class, the thousands who toil for us day after -day behind the counter or at the desk. And yet are their lives -one whit less worthy of sympathy? Are they not educated to -a point which makes them infinitely more sensitive? Hood has -given us a magnificent poem on the sorrows of a shirt-maker; -but who will take trouble to find poetry in the sorrows and weariness -of shop assistants? It has been said that the very atmosphere -of trade kills romance, that no poet or novelist would -dare to take up such a theme; and yet everywhere the human -heart is the same, and shop-life does not interfere with the loves -and hatreds, the joys and sorrows which make up the life of -every human being, and out of which are woven all the romances -which were ever written. No one would dispute the saying -that labor is worship, yet nevertheless we know well enough -that while some work of itself ennobles the worker, there is -other work which has to be ennobled by the way in which it is -done. An artist and a coal-heaver both toil for the general -good, but most people will admit that the coal-heaver is heavily -handicapped. If in the actual work of shop assistants there is -a prosaic monotony, then it is all the more probable that they -need our warmest sympathy, our most thoughtful considerateness, -since they themselves are no machines, but men and -women with exactly the same hopes and desires as the rest of -us. It is because we consider them of a different order that -we tolerate the long hours, that we allow women to stand all -<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>day long to serve us, though it has been proved that terrible -diseases are the consequence. It is because we do not in our -hearts believe that they are of the same flesh and blood, that we -think with a sort of contempt of the very people who are brought -most directly into contact with us, and whose hard-working -lives often put ours to shame.</p> - -<p class='c000'>About the middle of July the Bonifaces went down to Devonshire -for their usual summer holiday, and Frithiof found that, -as Roy had predicted, Mr. Horner made himself most disagreeable, -and never lost a chance of interfering. It must be owned -that there are few things so trying as fussiness, particularly in -a man, of whom such weakness seems unworthy. And Mr. -Horner was the most fussy mortal on earth. It seemed as if -he called forth all that was bad in Frithiof, and Frithiof also -called out everything that was bad in him. The breach between -the two was made much wider by a most trivial incident. -A miserable-looking dog unluckily made its way into the shop -one morning and disturbed Mr. Horner in his sanctum.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What is the meaning of this?” he exclaimed, bearing down -upon Frithiof. “Can you not keep stray curs off the premises? -Just now too, with hydrophobia raging!” And he drove and -kicked the dog to the door.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Now there is one thing which no Norseman can tolerate for -a moment, and that is any sort of cruelty to animals. Frithiof, in -his fury, did not measure his words, or speak as the employed -to the employer, and from that time Mr. Horner’s hatred of -him increased tenfold. To add to all this wretchedness an almost -tropical heat set in, London was like a huge, overheated -oven; every day Frithiof found the routine of business less -bearable, every day he was less able to fight against his love for -Blanche, and he rapidly sunk into the state which hard-headed -people flatter themselves is a mere foolish fancy—that most -real and trying form of illness which goes by the name of depression. -Again and again he wrestled with the temptation that -had assailed him long ago in Hyde Park, and each sight of -James Horner, each incivility from those he had to serve, made -the struggle harder.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He was sitting at his desk one morning adding up a column -which had been twice interrupted, and which had three times -come to a different result, when once again the swing-door was -pushed open, and a shadow falling across his account-book -warned him that the customer had come to the song-counter. -Annoyed and impatient, he put down his pen and went forward, -forcing up the sort of cold politeness which he assumed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>now, and which differed strangely from the bright, genial -courtesy, that had once been part of his nature.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The customer was evidently an Italian. He was young and -strikingly handsome; when he glanced at you, you felt that -he had looked you through and through, yet that his look -was not critical, but kindly; it penetrated yet at the same -time warmed. Beside him was a bright-eyed boy who looked -up curiously at the Norseman, as though wondering how on -such a sunny day any one could wear such a clouded face.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Now Frithiof was quite in the humor to dislike any one, -more especially a man who was young, handsome, well-dressed, -and prosperous-looking; but some subtle influence -crept over him the instant he heard the Italian’s voice; his -hard eyes softened a little, and without being able to explain -it he felt a strong desire to help this man in finding the song -which he had come to inquire about, knowing only the -words and the air, not the name of the composer. Frithiof, -who would ordinarily have been inclined to grumble at the -trouble which the search involved, now threw himself into -it heart and soul, and was as pleased as his customer when -after some little time he chanced to find the song.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“A thousand thanks,” said the Italian warmly. “I am -delighted to get hold of this; it is for a friend who has long -wanted to hear it again, but who was only able to write -down the first part of the air.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And he compared the printed song with the little bit of -manuscript which he had shown to Frithiof. “Now, was it -only a happy fluke that made you think of Knight’s name?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I know another of his songs, and thought this bore a -sort of likeness to it,” said Frithiof, pleased with his success.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You know much more of English music than I do, most -likely,” said the Italian; “yet surely you, too, are a foreigner.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” replied Frithiof, “I am Norwegian. I have only -been here for nine months, but to try and learn a little -about the music is the only interesting part of this work.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The stranger’s sympathetic insight showed him much of -the weariness and discontent and <i><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Heimweh</span></i> which lay -beneath these words.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ah, yes,” he said, “I suppose both work and country -seem flat and dull after your life among the fjords and -mountains. I know well enough the depression of one’s -first year in a new climate. But courage! the worst will pass. -I have grown to love this England which once I detested.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>“It is the airlessness of London which depresses one,” said -poor Frithiof, rolling up the song.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, it is certainly very oppressive to-day,” said the Italian; -“I am sorry to have given you so much trouble in hunting -up this song for me. We may as well take it with us, Gigi, as -we are going home.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And then with a pleasant farewell the stranger bowed and -went out of the shop, leaving behind him a memory which did -more to prevent the blue devils from gaining the mastery of -Frithiof’s mind than anything else could possibly have done. -When he left, however, at his usual dinner hour, he was without -the slightest inclination to eat, and with a craving for some relief -from the monotony of the glaring streets he walked up to Regent’s -Park, hoping that there perhaps he might find the fresh -air for which he was longing. He thought much of his unknown -customer, half laughing to himself now and then to think that -such a chance encounter should have made upon him so deep -an impression, should have wakened within him desires such as -he had never before felt for a life which should be higher, nobler, -more manly than his past.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Come along, will you?” shouted a rough voice behind him. -He glanced round and saw an evil-looking tramp who was -speaking to a most forlorn little boy at his heels.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The child seemed ready to drop, but with a look of misery -and fear and effort most painful to see in such a young face, -it hurried on, keeping up a wretched little sort of trot at the -heels of its father, who tramped on doggedly. Frithiof was not -in the habit of troubling himself much about those he came -across in life, his heart had been too much embittered by -Blanche’s treatment, he had got into the way now of looking -on coldly and saying with a shrug of the shoulders that it was -the way of the world. But to-day the magical influence of a -noble life was stirring within him; a man utterly unknown to -him had spoken to him a few kindly words, had treated him -with rare considerateness, had somehow raised him into a -purer atmosphere. And so it happened that he, too, began -to feel something of the same divine sympathy, and to forget -his own wretchedness in the suffering of the little child. Presently -the tramp paused outside a public-house.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Wait for me there in the park,” he said to the child, giving -it a push in the direction.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And the little fellow went on obediently, until, just at the -gate, he caught sight of a costermonger’s barrow on which cool -green leaves and ripe red strawberries were temptingly displayed. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>Frithiof lingered a minute to see what would happen, -but nothing happened at all, the child just stood there patiently. -There was no expectation on his tired little face, nothing but -intense appreciation of a luxury which must forever be beyond -his hopes of enjoyment.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Have you ever tasted them?” said Frithiof, drawing nearer.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The boy shook his head shyly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Would you like to?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Still he did not speak, but a look of rapture dawned in the -wistful child eyes, and he gave a little spring in the air which -was more eloquent than words.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Six-pennyworth,” said Frithiof to the costermonger; then -signing to the child to follow, he led the way into the park, sat -down on the nearest seat, put the basket of strawberries down -beside him, and glanced at his little companion.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There, now, sit down by me and enjoy them,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And the child needed no second bidding, but began to eat -with an eager delight which was pleasant to see. After awhile -he paused, however, and shyly pushed the basket a little nearer -to his benefactor. Frithiof, absorbed in his own thoughts, did -not notice it, but presently became conscious of a small brown -hand on his sleeve, and looked round.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Eat too,” said the child, pointing to the basket.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And Frithiof, to please him, smiled and took two or three -strawberries.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There, the rest are for you,” he said. “Do you like them?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” said the child emphatically; “and I like you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why do you like me?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I was tired, and you was kind to me, and these is real -jammy!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But after this fervent little speech, he said no more. He -did not, as a Norwegian child would have done, shake hands as -a sign of gratitude, or say in the pretty Norse way, “<i><span lang="no" xml:lang="no">Tak for -maden</span></i>” (thanks for the meal); there had never been any one -to teach him the expression of the courtesies of life, and with -him they were not innate. He merely looked at his friend with -shining eyes like some animal that feels but cannot speak its -gratitude. Then before long the father reappeared, and the -little fellow with one shy nod of the head ran off, looking back -wistfully every now and then at the stranger who would be remembered -by him to the very end of his life.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The next day something happened which added the last -drops to Frithiof’s cup of misery, and made it overflow. The -troubles of the past year, and the loneliness and poverty which -<span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>he had borne, had gradually broken down his health, and there -came to him now a revelation which proved the final blow. He -was dining at his usual restaurant. Too tired to eat much, he -had taken up a bit of one of the society papers which some -one had left there, and his eye fell on one of those detestable -paragraphs which pander to the very lowest tastes of the public. -No actual name was given, but every one knowing anything -about her could not fail to see that Blanche Romiaux was the -woman referred to. The most revolting insinuations, the most -contemptible gossip, ended with the words, “An interesting -divorce case may soon be expected.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof grew deathly white. He tried to believe that it was -all a lie, tried to work himself up into a rage against the editor -of the paper, tried to assure himself that, whatever Blanche -might have been before marriage, after it she must necessarily -become all that was womanly and pure. But deep down -in his heart there lurked a fearful conviction that in the main -this story was true. Feeling sick and giddy, he made his way -along Oxford Street, noticing nothing, walking like a man in a -dream. Just in front of Buzzard’s a victoria was waiting, and -a remarkably good-looking man stood on the pavement talking -to its occupant. Frithiof would have passed by without observing -them had not a familiar voice startled him into keen consciousness. -He looked up hastily and saw Lady Romiaux—not -the Blanche who had won his heart in Norway, for the lips -that had once been pressed to his wore a hard look of defiance, -and the eyes that had insnared him had now an expression that -confirmed only too well the story he had just read. He heard -her give a little artificial laugh in which there was not even the -ghost of merriment, and after that it seemed as if a great cloud -had descended on him. He moved on mechanically, but it -was chiefly by a sort of instinct that he found his way back to the -shop.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Good heavens, Mr. Falck! how ill you are looking!” exclaimed -the head man as he glanced at him. “It’s a good -thing Mr. Robert will be back again soon. If I’m not very much -mistaken, he’ll put you into the doctor’s hands.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, it is chiefly this hot weather,” said Frithiof, and as if -anxious to put an end to the conversation, he turned away to -his desk and began to write, though each word cost him a painful -effort, and seemed to be dragged out of him by sheer force. -At tea-time he wandered out in the street, scarcely knowing -what he was doing, and haunted always by Blanche’s sadly -altered face. When he returned he found that the boy who -<span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>dusted the shop had spilled some ink over his order-book, -whereupon he flew into one of those violent passions to which -of late he had been liable, so entirely losing his self-control -that those about him began to look alarmed. This recalled -him to himself, and much disgusted at having made such a -scene, he sunk into a state of black depression. He could not -understand himself; could not make out what was wrong; -could not conceive how such a trifle could have stirred him -into such senseless rage. He sat, pen in hand, too sick and -miserable to work, and with a wild confusion of thoughts rushing -through his brain. He was driving along the Strand-gaden -with Blanche, and talking gayly of the intense enjoyment of -mere existence; he was rowing her on the fjord, and telling her -the Frithiof Saga; he was saving her on the mountain, and -listening to her words of love; he was down in the sheltered -nook below the flagstaff at Balholm, and she was clinging to -him in the farewell which had indeed been forever.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I can bear it no longer,” he said to himself. “I have tried -to bear this life, but it’s no use—no use.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Yet after a while there rose within him a thought which -checked the haunting visions of failure and the longing for -death. He remembered the face which had so greatly struck -him the day before, and again those kindly words rang in his ear, -“Courage! the worst will pass.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Who was this man? What gave him his extraordinary influence? -How had he gained his insight, and sympathy, and fearless -brightness? If one man had attained to all this, why not -any man? Might not life still hold for him something that was -worth having? There floated back to him the remembrance of -the last pleasurable moment he had known—it was the sight of -the child’s enjoyment of the strawberries.</p> - -<p class='c000'>At length closing-time came. He dragged himself back to -Vauxhall, shut himself into his dreary little room, pulled the -table toward the open window, and began to work at Herr -Sivertsen’s translating. Night after night he had gone on, with -the dogged courage of his old Viking ancestors, upheld by the -same fierce, fighting nature which had made them the terror of -the North. But at last he was at the very end of his strength. -A violent shivering fit seized him. Work was no longer possible; -he could only stagger to the bed, with that terrible consciousness -of being utterly and hopelessly beaten, which to a -man is so hard to bear.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Oppressed by a frightful sense of loneliness, dazed by physical -pain, and tortured by the thought of Blanche’s disgrace, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>there was yet one thing which gave him moments of relief—like -a child he strained his eyes to see the picture of Bergen -which hung by the bedside.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Later on, when the summer twilight deepened into night, -and he could no longer make out the harbor, and the shipping, -and the familiar mountains, he buried his face in the pillow and -sobbed aloud, in a forlorn misery which, even in Paradise, must -have wrung his mother’s heart.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Roy Boniface came back from Devonshire the following day, -his holiday being shortened by a week on account of the illness -of Mrs. Horner’s uncle. As there was every reason to expect -a legacy from this aged relative, Mr. Horner insisted on -going down at once to see whether they could be of any use; -and since the shop was never left without one of the partners, -poor Roy, anathematizing the whole race of the Horners, had -to come back and endure as best he might a London August -and an empty house.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Like many other business men, he relieved the monotony of -his daily work by always keeping two or three hobbies in hand. -The mania for collecting had always been encouraged at Rowan -Tree House, and just now botany was his keenest delight. It -was even perhaps absorbing too much of his time, and Cecil -used laughingly to tell him that he loved it more than all the -men and women in the world put together. He was contentedly -mounting specimens on the night of his return, when -James Horner looked in, the prospective legacy making him -more than ever fussy and pompous.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ah, so you have come: that’s all right!” he exclaimed. -“I had hoped you would have come round to us. However, -no matter; I don’t know that there is anything special to say, -and of course this sad news has upset my wife very much.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ah,” said Roy, somewhat skeptical in his heart of hearts -about the depth of her grief. “We were sorry to hear -about it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We go down the first thing to-morrow,” said James Horner, -“and shall, of course, stay on. They say there is no hope of -recovery.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What do you think of that?” said Roy, pointing to a very -minute flower which he had just mounted. “It is the first -time it has ever been found in England.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“H’m, is it really?” said James Horner, regarding it with -that would-be interested air, that bored perplexity, which Roy -took a wicked delight in calling forth. “Well, you know, I -don’t understand,” he added, “how a practical man like you -<span class='pageno' id='Page_151'>151</span>can take an interest in such trumpery bits of things. What -are your flowers worth when you’ve done them? Now, if you -took to collecting autographs, there’d be some sense in that, -for I understand that a fine collection of autographs fetches -a good round sum in the market.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That would only involve more desk-work,” said Roy, -laughing. “Writing to ask for them would bore me as much -as writing in reply must bore the poor celebrities.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“By the by,” said Mr. Horner, “I have just remembered -to tell you that provoking fellow, Falck, never turned up to-day. -He never even had the grace to send word that he wasn’t -coming.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Of course he must be ill,” said Roy, looking disturbed. -“He is the last fellow to stay away if he could possibly keep -up. We all thought him looking ill before he left.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t know about illness,” said James Horner, putting -on his hat; “but he certainly has the worst temper I’ve ever -come across. It was extremely awkward without him to-day, -for already we are short of hands.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There can hardly be much doing,” said Roy. “London -looks like a desert. However, of course I’ll look up Falck. I -dare say he’ll be all right again by to-morrow.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But he had scarcely settled himself down comfortably to his -work after James Horner’s welcome departure when the thought -of Frithiof came to trouble him. After all, was it likely that a -mere trifle would hinder a man of the Norwegian’s nature from -going to business? Was it not much more probable that he -was too ill even to write an excuse? And if so, how helpless -and desolate he would be!</p> - -<p class='c000'>Like most people, Roy was selfish. Had he lived alone he -would have become more selfish every day; but it was impossible -to live in the atmosphere of Rowan Tree House without, -at any rate, trying to consider other people. With an -effort he tore himself away from his beloved specimens, and -set off briskly for Vauxhall, where, after some difficulty, he -found the little side street in which, among dozens of others -precisely like it, was the house of the three Miss Turnours.</p> - -<p class='c000'>A little withered-up lady opened the door to him, and replied -nervously to his question.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Mr. Falck is ill,” she said. “He seems very feverish; -but he was like it once before, when he first came to England, -and it passed off in a day or two.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Can I see him?” said Roy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, he doesn’t like being disturbed at all,” said Miss -<span class='pageno' id='Page_152'>152</span>Charlotte. “He’ll hardly let me inside the room. But if you -would just see him, I should really be glad. You will judge -better if he should see the doctor or not.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Thank you, I’ll go up then. Don’t let me trouble you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is noise he seems to mind so much,” said Miss Charlotte. -“So if you will find your way up alone, perhaps it -would be best. It is the first door you come to at the top of -the last flight of stairs.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Roy went up quietly, opened the door as noiselessly as he -could, and went in. The window faced the sunset, so that the -room was still fairly light, and the utter discomfort of everything -was fully apparent.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I wish you wouldn’t come in again,” said an irritable voice -from the bed. “The lightest footstep is torture.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I just looked in to ask how you were,” said Roy, much -shocked to see how ill his friend seemed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, it’s you!” said Frithiof, turning his flushed face in the -direction of the speaker. “Thank God, you’ve come! That -woman will be the death of me. She does nothing but ask -questions.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I’ve only just got back from Devonshire, but they said you -hadn’t turned up to-day, and I thought I would come and see -after you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof dragged himself up and drank feverishly from the -ewer which stood on a chair beside him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I tried to come this morning,” he said, “but I was too -giddy to stand, and had to give it up. My head’s gone wrong -somehow.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Poor fellow! you should have given up before,” said Roy. -“You seem in terrible pain.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, yes; it’s like a band of hot iron,” moaned poor -Frithiof. Then suddenly starting up in wild excitement, -“There’s Blanche! there’s Blanche! Let me go to her! Let -me go! I will see her once more—only this once!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Roy with some difficulty held him down, and after awhile -he seemed to come to himself. “Was I talking nonsense?” -he said. “It’s a horrid feeling not being able to control one’s -self. If I go crazy you can just let me die, please. Life’s bad -enough now, and would be intolerable then. There she is -again! She’s smiling at me. Oh, Blanche—you did care -once. Come back! Come back! He can’t love you as I -love! But it’s no use—no use! she is worse than dead. I -tell you I saw it in that cursed paper, and I saw it in her own -face. Why, one might have known! All women are like it. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span>What do they dare so long as their vanity is satisfied? It’s -just as Björnsen says:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“‘If thou hadst not so smiled on me,</div> - <div class='line'>Now I should not thus weep for thee.’”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>And then he fell into incoherent talk, chiefly in Norwegian, -but every now and then repeating the English rendering of -Björnsen’s lines.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Meanwhile Roy turned over in his mind half a dozen -schemes, and at length decided to leave Frithiof during one of -the quiet intervals, while he went for their own doctor, Miss -Charlotte mounting guard outside the door, and promising to -go to him if he seemed to need care.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Dr. Morris, who was an old friend, listened to Roy’s description, -and returned with him at once, much to the relief of poor -Miss Charlotte, who was frightened out of her senses by one of -Frithiof’s paroxysms of wild excitement.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you think seriously of him?” said Roy, when, the -excitement having died down, Frithiof lay in a sort of stupor, -taking no notice at all of his surroundings.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If we can manage to get him any sleep he will pull through -all right,” said Dr. Morris, in his abrupt way. “If not, he -will sink before many days. You had better send for his -mother, if he has one.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He has only a sister, and she is in Norway.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, send for her, for he will need careful nursing. You -say you will take charge of him? Very well; and to-morrow -morning I will send in a nurse, who will set you at liberty for a -few hours. Evidently he has had some shock. Can you -make out what it was at all?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well; last autumn, I believe—indeed, I am sure—he was -jilted by an English girl with whom he was desperately in love. -It all came upon the top of the other troubles of which I told -you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And what is this paper he raves about? What is the girl’s -name? We might get some clew in that way.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh,” said Roy, “she was married some months ago. She -is now Lady Romiaux.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The doctor gave a stifled exclamation.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That explains all. I suppose the poor fellow honestly -cared for her, and was shocked to see the paragraph in this -week’s <em>Idle Time</em>. Your friend has had a narrow escape, if -he could but see it in that light. For the husband of that -heartless little flirt must be the most miserable man alive. We -<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>shall soon have another of those detestable <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">causes célèbres</span></i>, and -the newspapers lying about in every household will be filled -with all the poisonous details.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>As Roy kept watch through the long nights and days that -followed, as he listened to the delirious ravings of his patient, -and perceived how a man’s life and health had been ruined by -the faithlessness of a vain girl, he became so absorbed in poor -Frithiof, so devoted to him, that he altogether forgot his specimens -and his microscope. He wondered greatly how many -victims had been sacrificed to Blanche Romiaux’s selfish -love of admiration, and he longed to have her in that room, -and point to the man who tossed to and fro in sleepless -misery, and say to her, “This is what your hateful flirting has -brought about.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But the little Norwegian episode had entirely passed out of -Lady Romiaux’s mind. Had she been questioned she would -probably have replied that her world contained too many hard -realities to leave room for the recollection of mere dreams.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The dream, however, had gone hard with Frithiof. Sleeping -draughts had no effect on him, and his temperature -remained so high that Dr. Morris began to fear the worst.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Roy used to be haunted by the thought that he had telegraphed -for Sigrid Falck, and that he should have to meet her -after her long journey with the news that all was over. And -remembering the bright face and sunny manner of the Norwegian -girl, his heart failed him at the thought of her desolation. -But Frithiof could not even take in the idea that she -had been sent for. Nothing now made any difference to him. -Sleep alone could restore him. But sleep refused to come, and -already the death-angel hovered near, ready to give him the -release for which he so greatly longed.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XVII' class='c005'>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>Although it was the middle of August, a bitterly cold wind -blew round the dreary little posting station of Hjerkin, on the -Dovrefield, and at the very time when Frithiof lay dying in the -intolerable heat of London, Sigrid, shivering with cold, paced -drearily along the bleak mountain road with her aunt. They -had come to the Dovrefield a fortnight before for the summer -holiday, but the weather had been unfavorable, and away from -home, with nothing very particular to occupy their time, Fru -Grönvold and Sigrid seemed to jar upon each other more than -<span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>ever. Apparently the subject they were discussing was not at -all to the girl’s taste, for as they walked along there were two -ominous little depressions in her forehead, nor did her black fur -hat entirely account for the shadow that overspread her face.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” said Fru Grönvold emphatically, “I am sorry to -have to say such a thing of you, Sigrid, but it really seems to -me that you are playing the part of the dog in the manger. You -profess absolute indifference to every man you meet, yet you -go on absorbing attention, and standing in Karen’s light, in a -way which I assure you is very trying to me.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid’s cheek flamed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have done nothing to justify you in saying such a thing,” -she said angrily.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What!” cried Fru Grönvold. “Did not that Swedish -botanist talk to you incessantly? Does not the English officer -follow you about whenever he has the opportunity?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The botanist talked because we had a subject in common,” -replied Sigrid. “And probably the officer prefers talking to -me because my English is more fluent than Karen’s.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And that I suppose was the reason that you must be the -one to teach him the <i><span lang="no" xml:lang="no">spring dans</span></i>? And the one to sing him -the ‘Bridal Song of the Hardanger’?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh!” exclaimed Sigrid, with an impatient little stamp of -the foot, “am I to be forever thinking of this wretched scheming -and match-making? Can I not even try to amuse a middle-aged -Englishman who is disappointed of his reindeer, and finds himself -stranded in a dreary little inn with a handful of foreigners? -I have only been courteous to him—nothing more; and if I -like talking to him it is merely because he comes from England.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t wish to be hard on you,” said Fru Grönvold, “but -naturally I have the feelings of a mother, and do not like to see -Karen eclipsed. I accuse you of nothing worse, my dear, than -a slight forwardness—a little deficiency in tact. There is no -occasion for anger on your part.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid bit her lip hard to keep back the retort that she longed -to make, and they walked in silence toward the little cluster of -wooden buildings on the hill-side, the lowest of which contained -the bedrooms, while further up the hill the kitchen and dining-room -stood on one side of the open courtyard, and on the -other the prettily arranged public sitting-room. In warm -weather Hjerkin is a little paradise, but on this windy day, -under a leaden sky, it seemed the most depressing place on -earth.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>“I shall go in and write to Frithiof,” said Sigrid, at length. -And escaping gladly from Fru Grönvold, she ran up to her room.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Here we are at Hjerkin,” she wrote, “for a month, and it -is more desolate than I can describe to you, uncle and Oscar -out shooting all day long, and scarcely a soul to speak to, for -most of the English have been driven away by the bad weather, -and two girls from Stockholm who were here for their health -are leaving this afternoon, unable to bear the dullness any -longer. If something doesn’t happen soon I think I shall grow -desperate. But surely something will happen. We can’t be -meant to go on in this wretched way, apart from each other. -I am disappointed that you think there is no chance of any -opening for me in London. If it were not for Swanhild I -think I should try for work—any sort of work except teaching—at -Christiania. But I can’t bear to leave her, and uncle would -object to my trying for anything of the sort in Bergen. I can’t -help thinking of the old times when we were children, and of -the summer holidays then. Don’t you remember when we had -the island all to ourselves, and used to rush down the fir-hill, -and frighten poor old Gro?”</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c000'>She stopped writing because the thought of those past days -had blinded her with tears, and because the longing for her -father’s presence had overwhelmed her; they had been so -much to each other that there was not an hour in the day when -she did not miss him. The dreary wind howling and whistling -round the little wooden house seemed to harmonize only too -well with her sadness, and when the unwelcome supper-bell -began to ring she wrapped her shawl about her, and climbed -the steep path to the dining-room, slowly and reluctantly, with -a look on her pale face which it was sad to see in one so young.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Swanhild came dancing to meet her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Major Brown has got us such beautiful trout for supper, -Sigrid, and uncle says I may go out fishing, too, some day. -And you’ll come with us, wont you?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You had better take Karen,” said Sigrid listlessly. “You -know I never did care much for fishing. You shall catch them -and I will eat them,” she added, with a dreary little smile. -And throughout supper she hardly spoke, and at the first opportunity -slipped away quietly, only, however, to be pursued -by Swanhild.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What is the matter?” said the child, slipping her arm -round her sister’s waist. “Are you not coming to the sitting-room?”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>“No,” said Sigrid, “I am tired, and it is so cold in there. -I am going into the kitchen to buy some stamps. Frithiof’s -letter ought to go to-morrow.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>As she spoke she opened the door of the roomy old kitchen, -which is the pride of Hjerkin. Its three windows were shaded -by snowy muslin curtains; its spotless floor was strewn with -juniper; the walls, painted a peacock-blue, were hung with -bright dish-covers, warming-pans, quaint old bellows and -kitchen implements. There was a tall old clock in a black and -gold case, a pretty corner cupboard in shaded brown, and a -huge, old-fashioned cabinet with cunning little drawers and -nooks and corners, all painted in red and blue and green, -with an amount of gilding which gave it quite an Eastern -look.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ah, how cozy the fire looks!” cried Swanhild, crossing -over to the curious old grate which filled the whole of one -corner of the room, and which certainly did look very tempting -with its bright copper kettles and saucepans all glowing in the -ruddy light.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Bless your heart,” said the kind old landlady, “sit down -and warm yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And one of the white-sleeved servant-girls brought a little -chair which stood by a long wooden settle, and put it close by -the fire for the child, and Sigrid, her purchase made, joined -the little group, and sat silently warming her hands, finding a -sort of comfort in the mere physical heat, and in the relief of -being away from her aunt. The landlady told Swanhild stories, -and Sigrid listened dreamily, letting her thoughts wander off -now and then to Frithiof, or back into the far past, or away -into the future which looked so dreary. Still the kindness of -these people, and the interest and novelty of her glimpse into -a different sort of life, warmed her heart and cheered her a -little. Sitting there in the firelight she felt more at home than -she had done for many months.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Come, Swanhild,” she said at last reluctantly, “it is ten -o’clock, and time you were in bed.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And thanking the landlady for her kindness, the two sisters -crossed over the courtyard to the sitting-room, where Fru -Grönvold was watching the progress of a rubber in which Karen -was Major Brown’s partner, and had just incurred his wrath -by revoking.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Where in the world have you been?” said Fru Grönvold, -knitting vehemently. “We couldn’t think what had become of -you both.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>“I went to the kitchen to get some stamps,” said Sigrid -coldly. She always resented her aunt’s questioning.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And it was so lovely and warm in there,” said Swanhild -gayly, “and Fru Hjerkin has been telling me such beautiful -stories about the Trolds. Her mother really saw one, do you -know.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>After this a cold good-night was exchanged, and Fru Grönvold’s -brow grew darker still when Major Brown called out in -his hearty way:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What, going so early, Miss Falck? We have missed you -sadly to-night.” Then, as she said something about the English -mail, “Yes, yes, quite right. And I ought to be writing -home, too, instead of playing.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That means that he will not have another rubber,” thought -Sigrid, as she hurried down the hill to the <em>dépendence</em>, “and I -shall be blamed for it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She fell into a state of blank depression, and long after -Swanhild was fast asleep she sat struggling with the English -letter, which, do what she would, refused to have a cheerful tone -forced into it.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The only comfort is,” she thought, “that the worst has -happened to us; what comes now must be for the better. How -the wind is raging round the house and shrieking at the windows! -And, oh, how dreary and wretched this life is!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And in very low spirits she blew out the candle, and lay down -to sleep as best she might in a bed which shook beneath her in -the gale.</p> - -<p class='c000'>With much that was noble in Sigrid’s nature there was interwoven -a certain fault of which she herself was keenly conscious. -She could love a few with the most ardent and devoted love, -but her sympathies were not wide; to the vast majority of -those she met she was absolutely indifferent, and though naturally -bright and courteous and desirous of giving pleasure, yet -she was too deeply reserved to depend at all on the outer circle -of friends; she liked them well enough, but it would not greatly -have troubled her had she never met them again. Very few -had the power to call out all the depths of tenderness, all the -womanly sweetness which really characterized her, while a great -many repelled her, and called out the harder side of her nature.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was thus with Fru Grönvold. To her aunt, Sigrid was like -an icicle, and her hatred of the little schemes and hopes and -anxieties which filled Fru Grönvold’s mind blinded her to much -that was worthy of all admiration. However, like all the Falcks, -Sigrid was conscientious, and she had been struggling on -<span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>through the spring and summer, making spasmodic efforts to -overcome her strong dislike to one who in the main was kind to -her, and the very fact that she had tried made her now more -conscious of her failure.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My life is slipping by,” she thought to herself, “and somehow -I am not making the most of it. I am harder and colder -than before all this trouble came; I was a mere fine-weather -character, and the storm was too much for me. If I go on hating -auntie perhaps I shall infect Swanhild, and make her turn -into just such another narrow-hearted woman. Oh, why does -one have to live with people that rub one just the wrong way?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She fell asleep before she had solved this problem, but woke -early and with a restless craving, which she could not have explained, -dressed hastily, put on all the wraps that she possessed, -and went out into the fresh morning air.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have got to put up with this life,” she said to herself, -“and I shall just walk off this stupid discontented mood. What -can’t be cured must be endured. Oh, how beautiful it is out -all alone in the early morning! I am glad the wind is quite -gone down, it has just cooled the air so that to breathe it is -like drinking iced water. After all, one can’t talk of merely -enduring life when there is all this left to one.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Leaving the steep high-road, she struck off to the left, intent -on gaining the top of Hjerkinshö. Not a house was in sight, -not a trace of any living being; she walked on rapidly, for, -although the long upward slope was in parts fairly steep, the -gray lichen with which the ground was thickly covered was so -springy and delicious to walk on that she felt no fatigue, the -refreshing little scrunch that it made beneath her feet seemed -in itself to invigorate her. By the time she reached the top of -the hill she was glowing with exercise, and was glad to sit down -and rest by the cairn of stones. All around her lay one great -undulating sweep of gray country, warmed by the bright sunlight -of the summer morning, and relieved here and there by -the purple shadow of some cloud. Beyond, there rose tier -above tier of snowy peaks, Snehaetten standing out the most -nobly of all, and some eighty attendant peaks ranged round -the horizon line as though they were courtiers in attendance -on the monarch of the district. At first Sigrid was so taken up -by this wonderful panorama that she had not a thought for -anything beyond it, but after awhile the strange stillness roused -her; for the first time in her life she had come into absolute -silence, and what made the silence was the infinite space.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If one could always be in a peace like this,” she thought, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>“surely life would be beautiful then! If one could get out of -all the littleness and narrowness of one’s own heart, and be -silent and quiet from all the worries and vexations and dislikes -of life! Perhaps it was the longing for this that made women -go into convents; some go still into places where they never -speak. That would never suit me; out of sheer perversity I -should want to talk directly. But if one could always have a -great wide open space like this that one could go into when -one began to get cross—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But there all definite thought was suddenly broken, because -nature and her own need had torn down a veil, and there -rushed into her consciousness a perception of an infinite calm, -into which all might at any moment retire. The sense of that -Presence which had so clearly dawned on her on the night of -her father’s death returned to her now more vividly, and for -the first time in her life she was absolutely at rest.</p> - -<p class='c000'>After a time she rose and walked quietly home, full of an -eager hopefulness, to begin what she rightly felt would be a -new life. She stopped to pick a lovely handful of flowers for -her aunt; she smiled at the thought of the annoyance she had -felt on the previous night about such a trifle, and went forward -almost gayly to meet the old troubles which but a few hours -before had seemed intolerable, but now looked slight and easy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Poor Sigrid! she had yet to learn that with fresh strength -comes harder fighting in the battle of life, and that of those to -whom much is given much will be required.</p> - -<p class='c000'>They were very cheerful that morning at breakfast; Fru -Grönvold seemed pleased with the flowers, and everything went -smoothly. Afterward, when they were standing in a little -group outside the door, she even passed her arm within Sigrid’s -quite tenderly, and talked in the most amiable way imaginable -of the excursion which was being planned to Kongswold.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Look! look!” cried Swanhild merrily, “here are some -travelers. Two carioles and a stolkjaerre coming up the hill. -Oh! I hope they will be nice, and that they will stay here.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The arrival caused quite a little bustle of excitement, and -many speculations were made as to the relationship of the two -sportsmen and the two ladies in the stolkjaerre. Major Brown -came forward to do the honors of the place, as the landlord -happened not to be at hand.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Is there any one of the name of Falck here?” asked one of -the travelers as he dismounted from his cariole. “We were at -Dombaas last night and promised to bring this on; we told -the landlord that we meant to sleep at Fokstuen, but he said -<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>there was no quicker way of delivery. Seems a strange mode -of delivering telegrams, doesn’t it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, Miss Falck, I see it is for you,” said Major Brown, -glancing at the direction.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She stepped hastily forward to take it from him with flushed -cheeks and trembling hands; it seemed an eternity before she -had torn it open, and the few words within half paralyzed her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>For a moment all seemed to stand still, then she became -conscious of the voices around.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, we were almost blown away at Fokstuen,” said one.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But such <i><span lang="no" xml:lang="no">flatbrod</span></i> as they make there!” said another, “we -brought away quite a tinful.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Nothing wrong, my dear, I hope?” said Fru Grönvold. -“Child, child, what is it? Let me read.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then came an almost irresistible impulse to burst into a flood -of tears, checked only by the presence of so many strangers, -and by the necessity of explaining to her aunt.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is in English,” she said in a trembling voice. “From -Mr. Boniface. It says only, ‘Frithiof dangerously ill. Come.’”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Poor child! you shall go at once,” said Fru Grönvold. -“What can be wrong with Frithiof? Dangerously ill! See, -it was sent from London yesterday. You shall not lose a moment, -my dear. Here is your uncle, I’ll tell him everything, -and do you go and pack what things you need.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The girl obeyed; it seemed as if when once she had moved -she was capable only of the one fear—the terrible fear lest she -should miss the English steamer. Already it was far too late -to think of catching the Thursday steamer from Christiania to -London, but she must strain every nerve to catch the next one. -Like one in a frightful dream she hastily packed, while Swanhild -ran to and fro on messages, her tears falling fast, for she, -poor little soul, would be left behind, since it was impossible -that she should be taken to London lodgings, where, for aught -they knew, Frithiof might be laid up with some infectious illness. -In all her terrible anxiety Sigrid felt for the child, and -with a keen pang remembered that she had not set her the best -of examples, and that all her plans for a new life, and for -greater sympathy with her aunt, were now at an end. The old -life with all its lost opportunities was over—it was over, and -she rightly felt that she had failed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have murmured and rebelled,” she thought to herself, -“and now God is going to take from me even a chance of -making up for it. Oh, how hard it is to try too late!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We have been looking out the routes, dear,” said Fru Grönvold, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>coming into the room, “and the best way will be for you -to try for the Friday afternoon boat from Christiania; it generally -gets to Hull a little before the Saturday one from Bergen, -your uncle says.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“When can I start?” asked Sigrid eagerly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You must start almost at once for Lille-elvedal; it will be -a terribly tiring drive for you, I’m afraid—eighty-four kilometers -and a rough road. But still there is time to do it, -which is the great thing. At Lille-elvedal you will take the -night train to Christiania; it is a quick one, and will get you -there in ten hours, quite in time to catch the afternoon boat, -you see. Your uncle will take you and see you into the train, -and if you like we can telegraph to some friend to meet you at -the Christiania station: the worst of it is, I fear most people -are away just now.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, I shall not want any one,” said Sigrid. “If only I -can catch the steamer nothing matters.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And do not worry more than you can help,” said Fru -Grönvold. “Who knows? You may find him much better.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“They would not have sent unless they feared—” Sigrid -broke off abruptly, unable to finish her sentence. And then -with a few incoherent words she clung to her aunt, asking her -forgiveness for having annoyed her so often, and thanking her -for all her kindness. And Fru Grönvold, whose conscience -also pricked her, kissed the girl, and cried over her, and was -goodness itself.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then came the wrench of parting with poor Swanhild, who -broke down altogether, and had to be left in the desolate little -bedroom sobbing her heart out, while Sigrid went downstairs -with her aunt, bade a hurried farewell to Major Brown, Oscar, -and Karen; then, with a pale, tearless face she climbed into -the stolkjaerre, and was driven slowly away in the direction of -Dalen.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her uncle talked kindly, speculating much as to the cause -of Frithiof’s illness, and she answered as guardedly as she -could, all the time feeling convinced that somehow Blanche -Morgan was at the bottom of it all. Were they never to come -to the end of the cruel mischief wrought by one selfish woman’s -vanity? One thing was clear to her; if Frithiof was spared to -them she could never leave him again, and the thought of a -possible exile from Norway made her look back lingeringly at -the scenes she was leaving. Snehaetten’s lofty peaks still appeared -in the distance, rising white and shining into the clear -blue sky; what ages it seemed since she had watched it from -<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>Hjerkinshö in the wonderful stillness which had preceded this -great storm! Below her, to the right, lay a lovely, smiling -valley with birch and fir-trees, and beyond were round-topped -mountains, with here and there patches of snow gleaming out of -black, rocky clefts.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But soon all thought of her present surroundings was -crowded out by the one absorbing anxiety, and all the more -because of her father’s recent death hope seemed to die within -her, and something seemed to tell her that this hurried journey -would be in vain. Each time the grisly fear clutched at her -heart, the slowness of their progress drove her almost frantic, -and the easy-going people at Dalen, who leisurely fetched a -horse which proved to be lame, and then, after much remonstrance, -leisurely fetched another, tried her patience almost -beyond bearing. With her own hands she helped to harness -the fresh pony, and at the dreary little station of Kroghaugen, -where all seemed as quiet as the grave, she not only made the -people bestir themselves, but on hearing that it was necessary -to make some sort of a meal there, fetched the fagots herself -to relight the fire, and never rested till all that the place would -afford was set before Herr Grönvold.</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c000'>At length the final change had been made. Ryhaugen was -passed, and they drove on as rapidly as might be for the last -stage of their journey. At any other time the beautiful fir -forest through which they were passing would have delighted -her, and the silvery river in the valley below, with its many -windings and its musical ripple, would have made her long to -stay. Now she scarcely saw them; and when, in the heart of -the forest, the skydsgut declared that his horse must rest for -half an hour, she was in despair.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But there is plenty of time, dear,” said her uncle kindly. -“Come and take a turn with me; it will rest you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She paced to and fro with him, trying to conquer the frenzy -of impatience which threatened to overmaster her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“See,” he said at length, as they sat down to rest on -one of the moss-covered boulders, “I will give you now, while -we are quiet and alone, the money for your passage. Here is -a check for fifty pounds, you will have time to get it cashed in -Christiania”; then as she protested that it was far too much, -“No, no; you will need it all in England. It may prove a -long illness; and, in any case,” he added awkwardly, “there -must be expenses.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid, with a horrible choking in her throat, thanked him -<span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>for his help, but that “in any case” rang in her ears all through -the drive, all through the waiting at the hotel at Lille-elvedal, -all through that weary journey in the train.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Yet it was not until she stood on board the <em>Angelo</em> that tears -came to her relief. A great crowd had collected on the quays, -for a number of emigrants were crossing over to England <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">en -route</span></i> for America. Sigrid, standing there all alone, watched -many a parting, saw strong men step on to the deck sobbing -like children, saw women weeping as though their hearts would -break. And when the crowd of those left behind on the quay -began to sing the songs of the country, great drops gathered -in her eyes and slowly fell. They sung with subdued voices. -“<span lang="no" xml:lang="no">For Norge, Kjaempers Foderland</span>,” and “<span lang="no" xml:lang="no">Det Norske Flagg</span>.” -Last of all, as the great steamer moved off, they sung, with a -depth of pathos which touched even the unconcerned foreigners -on board, “<span lang="no" xml:lang="no">Ja, vi elsker dette landet</span>.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The bustle and confusion on the steamer, the busy sailors, -the weeping emigrants, the black mass of people on shore waving -their hats and handkerchiefs, some sobbing, some singing -to cheer the travelers, and behind the beautiful city of Christiania -with its spires and towers, all this had to Sigrid the -strangest feeling of unreality; yet it was a scene that no one -present could ever forget. Bravely the friends on shore sung -out, their voices bridging over the widening waters of the fjord, -the sweet air well suiting the fervor of the words:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Yes, we love with fond devotion Norway’s mountain domes,</div> - <div class='line'>Rising storm-lashed o’er the ocean, with their thousand homes—</div> - <div class='line'>Love our country when we’re bending thoughts to fathers grand,</div> - <div class='line'>And to saga night that’s sending dreams upon our land.</div> - <div class='line'>Harald on its throne ascended by his mighty sword;</div> - <div class='line'>Hakon Norway’s rights defended, helped by Oyvind’s sword;</div> - <div class='line'>From the blood of Olaf sainted, Christ’s red cross arose.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>But there the distance became too great for words to traverse -it, only the wild beauty of the music floated after the outward-bound -vessel, and many a man strained his ears to listen to -voices which should never again be heard by him on earth, and -many a woman hid her face and sobbed with passionate grief.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XVIII' class='c005'>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>On the following Monday afternoon, Roy Boniface, pale and -worn with all that he had been through, paced the arrival platform -at King’s Cross Station. Already the train from Hull -<span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>was signaled and he longed for Sigrid’s advent, yet dreaded -unspeakably the first few moments, the hurried questions, the -sad answers that must follow. The steamer had been hindered -by a fog, and the passengers had not been landed at Hull until -that morning, so that Sigrid had only had time to telegraph the -hour of her arrival, and had been unable to wait for a reply to -tell her of Frithiof’s state. He should have to tell her all—tell -her amid the unsympathizing crowd which jarred upon him -even now; for during the last few days he had lived so entirely -with his patient that the outer world seemed strange to him. -His heart beat quickly as the engine darted into sight and one -carriage after another flitted past him. For a minute he could -nowhere see her; but hastening up the platform, and closely -scanning the travelers, he at length caught sight of the golden -hair and black dress which he had been imagining to himself, and -heard the clear voice saying, with something of Frithiof’s quiet -decision:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is a black trunk from Hull, and the name is Falck.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Roy came quickly forward, and the instant she caught sight -of him all her calmness vanished.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Frithiof?” she asked, as he took her hand in his.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He is still living,” said Roy, not daring to give an evasive -answer to the blue eyes which seemed to look into his very -heart. Whether she had feared the worst, or had hoped for -better news, he could hardly tell; she turned deathly white, and -her lips quivered piteously.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I will see to your luggage,” he said; “but before you go to -him you must have something to eat; I see you are quite worn -out with the long journey, and unless you are calm, you will -only agitate him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She did not speak a word, but passively allowed him to take -her to the refreshment-room and get her some tea; she even -made a faint effort to attack the roll and butter which had been -placed before her, but felt too completely tired out to get on -with it. Roy, seeing how matters were, quietly drew the plate -away, cut the roll into thin slices, and himself spread them for -her. It was months since they had parted at Balholm as friendly -fellow-travelers, yet it seemed now to Sigrid the most natural -thing in the world to depend on him, while he, at the first -glimpse of her questioning face, at the first grasp of her hand, -had realized that he loved her. After her lonely journey, with -its lack of sympathy, it was inexpressibly comforting to her to -have beside her one who seemed instantly to perceive just what -she needed. To please him she tried hard to eat and drink, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>and before long they were driving to Vauxhall, and all fear lest -she should break down was over.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Now,” she said at last, “tell me more about his illness. -What brought it on?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The doctor says it must have been brought on by a great -shock, and it seems that he heard very sad news that day of -Lady Romiaux.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I knew it was that wretched girl in some way,” cried Sigrid, -clenching her hand. “I wish she were dead!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He was startled by her extreme bitterness, for by nature she -was gentle, and he had not expected such vehemence from her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She is, as Frithiof incessantly says, ‘Worse than dead,’” -replied Roy. “It is a miserable story. Apparently he got -hold of some newspaper, read it all, and was almost immediately -broken down by it. They say he was hardly himself -when he left the shop that night, and the next evening, when I -saw him, I found him delirious.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is his brain that is affected, then?” she faltered.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes; he seems to have been out of health for a long time, -but he never would give way. All the troubles of last autumn -told on him, and this was merely, as they say, the last straw. -But if only we could get him any sleep, he might even now -recover.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How long has he been without it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I came to him on Tuesday evening; it was on the Monday -that he read that paragraph, just this day week, and he -has never slept since then. When did my telegram reach you, -by the by?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Not until Thursday. You see, though you sent it on Wednesday -morning, yet it had to be forwarded from Bergen, as -we were in an out-of-the-way place on the Dovrefield.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And you have been traveling ever since? You must be -terribly worn out.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, the traveling was nothing; it was the terrible anxiety -and the slowness of everything that almost maddened one. -But nothing matters now. I am at least in time to see -him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“This is the house where he is lodging,” said Roy as the cab -drew up. “Are you fit to go to him now, or had you not better -rest first?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, no, I must go to him directly,” she said. And, -indeed, it seemed that the excitement had taken away all her -fatigue; her cheeks were glowing, her eyes, though so wistful, -were full of eagerness. She followed him into the gloomy little -<span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>house, spoke a courteous word or two to Miss Charlotte, -stood in the passage to receive her, and then hastily mounted -the stairs, and entered the darkened room where, instead of the -excitement which she had pictured to herself, there reigned an -ominous calm. A hospital nurse, whose sweet, strong face -contrasted curiously with her funereal garments, was sitting -beside the mattresses, which for greater convenience had been -placed on the floor. Frithiof lay in the absolute stillness of -exhaustion, and Sigrid, who had never seen him ill, was for a -moment almost overcome. That he, who had always been so -strong, so daring, so full of life and spirit, should have sunk -to this! It seemed hardly possible that the thin, worn, haggard -face on the pillow could be the same face which had -smiled on her last from the deck of the steamer when he had -started on that fatal visit to the Morgans. He was talking -incoherently, and twice she caught the name of Blanche.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If she were here I could kill her!” she thought to herself; -but the fierce indignation died down almost instantly, for all -the tenderness of her womanly nature was called out by -Frithiof’s need.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Try if you can get him to take this,” said the nurse, handing -her a cup of beef-tea.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He took it passively, but evidently did not in the least recognize -her. It was only after some time had gone by that -the tone of her voice and the sound of his native tongue -affected him. His eyes, which for so many days had seen -only the phantoms of his imagination, fixed themselves on -her face, and by degrees a light of recognition dawned in -them.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sigrid!” he exclaimed, in a tone of such relief that tears -started to her eyes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She bent down and kissed him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have come to take care of you. And after you have been -to sleep we will have a long talk,” she said gently. “There, let -me make your pillows comfortable.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her presence, instead of exciting him to wonder or to ask -questions, acted upon him like a soothing spell.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Talk,” he said. “It is so good to hear Norse once -more.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I will talk if you will try to sleep. I will sit here and say -you some of Björnsen’s songs.” And, with his hand still in -hers, she said, in her quieting voice, “<span lang="no" xml:lang="no">Jeg har sogt</span>,” and -“Olaf Trygvason,” and “<span lang="no" xml:lang="no">Prinsessen</span>.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>This last seemed specially to please him, and while, for the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>sixth time, she was repeating it, Roy, who had been watching -them intently, made her a little sign, and, glancing down, she -saw that Frithiof had fallen asleep. No one stirred, for they all -knew only too well how much depended on that sleep. The -nurse, who was one of those cheerful and buoyant characters -that live always in the present—and usually in the present of -others—mused over her three companions, and settled in her -practical mind the best means of relieving Sigrid without disturbing -the patient.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid herself was living in the past, and was watching sadly -enough Frithiof’s altered face. Could he ever again be the -same strong, hardy, dauntless fellow he had once been? She -remembered how in the old days he had come back from -hunting fresh and invigorated when every one else had been -tired out. She thought of his room in the old home in Kalvedalen -with its guns and fishing-tackle, its reindeer skins and -bear skins, its cases of stuffed birds, all trophies of his prowess. -And then she looked round this dreary London room, and -thought how wretched it must have felt to him when night -after night he returned to it and sat working at translations in -which he could take no sort of interest.</p> - -<p class='c000'>As for Roy, having lived for so many days in that sick-room -with scarcely a thought beyond it, he had now plunged into a -sudden reaction; a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. -Sigrid had come, and with one bound he had stepped into -a bright future; a future in which he could always watch the -fair, womanly face now before him; a future in which he should -have the right to serve and help her, to shield her from care -and turn her poverty to wealth. But that last thought brought -a certain anxiety with it. For he fancied that Sigrid was not -without a share of Frithiof’s independent pride. If once she -could love him the question of money could, of course, make -no difference, but he feared that her pride might perhaps make -out of her poverty and his riches a barrier which should shut -out even the thought of love.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Of all those who were gathered together in that room, Frithiof -was the most entirely at rest, for at last there had come to his -relief the priceless gift of dreamless and unbroken sleep. For -just as the spiritual life dies within us if we become absorbed -in the things of this world and neglect the timeless calm which -is our true state, so the body and mind sink if they cannot for -brief intervals escape out of the bonds of time into the realms -of sleep. The others lived in past, present, or future, but -Frithiof lay in that blissful state of entire repose which builds -<span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>up, all unconsciously to ourselves, the very fibers of our being. -What happens to us in sleep that we wake once more like new -beings? No one can exactly explain. What happens to us -when</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“We kneel how weak, we rise how full of power”?</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>No one can precisely tell us. But the facts remain. By these -means are body and spirit renewed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>For the next day or two Frithiof realized little. To the -surprise and delight of all he slept almost incessantly, waking -only to take food, to make sure that Sigrid was with him, and -to enjoy a delicious sense of ease and relief.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He is out of the wood now,” said Dr. Morris cheerfully. -“You came just in time, Miss Falck. But I will give you one -piece of advice: if possible stay in England and make your -home with him; he ought not to be so much alone.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You think that he may have such an attack again?” -asked Sigrid wistfully.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, I don’t say that at all. He has a wonderful constitution, -and there is no reason why he should ever break down -again. But he is more likely to get depressed if he is alone, -and you will be able to prevent his life from growing too monotonous.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>So as she lived through those quiet days in the sick-room, -Sigrid racked her brain to think of some way of making money, -and searched, as so many women have done before her, the -columns of the newspapers, and made fruitless inquiries, and -wasted both time and money in the attempt. One day Roy, -coming in at his usual hour in the morning to relieve guard, -brought her a fat envelope which he had found waiting for her -in the hall. She opened it eagerly, and made a little exclamation -of disappointment and vexation.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Anything wrong?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She began to laugh, though he fancied he saw tears in her -eyes. “Oh,” she said, “it seems so ridiculous when I had -been expecting such great things from it. You know I have -been trying to hear of work in London, and there was an -advertisement in the paper which said that two pounds a week -might easily be realized either by men or women without interfering -with their present occupations, and that all particulars -would be given on the receipt of eighteen-pence. So I sent -the money, and here is a wretched aluminium pencil in -return, and I am to make this two pounds a week by getting -orders for them.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>The absurdity of the whole thing struck her more forcibly -and she laughed again more merrily; Roy laughed too.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Have you made any other attempts?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, yes,” said Sigrid, “I began to try in Norway, and even -attempted a story and sent it to one of our best novelists to ask -his opinion.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And what did he say?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well,” she said, smiling, “he wrote back very kindly, but -said that he could not conscientiously recommend any one to -write stories whose sole idea in taking up the profession was -the making of money. My conscience pricked me there, and -so I never tried writing again and never will. Then the other -day I wrote to another place which advertised, and got back a -stupid bundle of embroidery patterns. It is mere waste of -money answering these things. They say a woman can earn a -guinea a time by shaving poodles, but you see I have no -experience of poodles,” and she laughed merrily.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Roy sat musing over the perplexities of ordinary life. Here -was he with more money than he knew what to do with, and -here was the woman he loved struggling in vain to earn a few -shillings. Yet, the mere fact that he worshiped her made -him chivalrously careful to avoid laying her under any obligation. -As far as possible he would serve her, but in this vital -question of money it seemed that he could only stand aside -and watch her efforts. Nor did he dare to confess the truth -to her as yet, for he perceived quite plainly that she was absorbed -in Frithiof, and could not possibly for some time to come -be free even to consider her own personal life. Clearly at -present she regarded him with that frank friendliness which -he remembered well at Balholm, and in his helpfulness had -discerned nothing that need be construed as the attentions of -a lover. After all he was her brother’s sole friend in England, -and it was natural enough that he should do all that he could -for them.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My father and mother come home to-night,” he said at -length, “and if you will allow me I will ask them if they know -of anything likely to suit you. Cecil will be very anxious to -meet you again. Don’t you think you might go for a drive -with her to-morrow afternoon? I would be here with your -brother.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, I should so like to meet her again,” said Sigrid, “we -all liked her so much last summer. I don’t feel that I really -know her at all yet, for she is not very easy to know, but she -interested me just because of that.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>“I don’t think any one can know Cecil who has not lived -with her,” said Roy, “she is so very reserved.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes; at first I thought she was just gentle and quiet without -very much of character, but one day when we were out -together we tried to get some branches of willow. They were -so stiff to break that I lazily gave up, but she held on to hers -with a strong look in her face which quite startled me, and -said, ‘I can’t be beaten just by a branch.’”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That is Cecil all over,” said Roy, smiling; “she never -would let anything daunt her. May I tell her that you will see -her to-morrow?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid gladly assented, and the next day both Mrs. Boniface -and Cecil drove to the little house at Vauxhall. Roy brought -Sigrid down to the carriage, and with a very happy, satisfied -feeling introduced her to his mother, and watched the warm -meeting with Cecil.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I can’t think what would have become of Frithiof if it had -not been for all your kindness,” said Sigrid. “Your son has -practically saved his life, I am sure, by taking care of him -through this illness.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And the worst is over now, I hope,” said Mrs. Boniface. -“That is such a comfort.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>At the first moment Sigrid had fallen in love with the -sweet-natured, motherly old lady, and now she opened all her -heart to her, and they discussed the sad cause of Frithiof’s -breakdown, and talked of past days in Norway, and of the -future that lay before him, Cecil listening with that absolute -command of countenance which betokens a strong nature, and -her companions little dreaming that their words, though eagerly -heard, were like so many sword-thrusts to her. The neat -brougham of the successful tradesman might have seemed prosaic -enough, and an unlikely place in which to find any romance, but -nevertheless the three occupants with their joys and sorrows, -their hopes and fears, were each living out an absorbing life story. -For every heart has its own romance, and whether living in -the fierce glare of a palace, in the whirl of society, in a quiet -London suburb, or in an East-end court, it is all the same. -The details differ, the accessories are strangely different, but -the love which is the great mainspring of life is precisely the -same all the world over.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What makes me so miserable,” said Sigrid, “is to feel -that his life is, as it were, over, though he is so young: it -has been spoiled and ruined for him when he is but one-and-twenty.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>“But the very fact of his being so young seems to me to -give hope that brighter things are in store for him,” said Mrs. -Boniface.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I do not think so,” said Sigrid. “That girl has taken something -from him which can never come again: it does not seem -to me possible that a man can love like that twice in a lifetime.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Perhaps not just in that way,” said Mrs. Boniface.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And besides,” said Sigrid, “what girl would care to take -such love as he might now be able to give? I am sure nothing -would induce me to accept any secondary love of that -kind.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She spoke as a perfectly heart-whole girl, frankly and unreservedly. -And what she said was true. She never could have -been satisfied with less than the whole; it was her nature to -exact much; she could love very devotedly, but she would -jealously demand an equal devotion in return.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Now Cecil was of a wholly different type. Already love had -taken possession of her, it had stolen into her heart almost unconsciously -and had brought grave shadows into her quiet life, -shadows cast by the sorrow of another. Her notion of love -was simply freedom to love and serve; to give her this freedom -there must of course be true love on the other side, but of -its kind or of its degree she would never trouble herself to -think. For already her love was so pure and deep that it rendered -her almost selfless. Sigrid’s speech troubled her for a -minute or two; if one girl could speak so, why not all girls? -Was she perhaps less truly womanly that she thought less of -what was owing to herself?</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It may be so,” she admitted, yet with a latent consciousness -that so infinite a thing as love could not be bound by any -hard and fast rules. “But I cannot help it. Whether it is -womanly or not, I would die to give him the least real comfort.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Tell Harris to stop, Cecil,” said Mrs. Boniface. “We will -get some grapes for Mr. Falck.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And glad to escape from the carriage for a minute, and glad, -too, to be of use even in such a far-off way, Cecil went into the -fruiterer’s, returning before long with a beautiful basket of -grapes and flowers.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span> - <h2 id='XIX' class='c005'>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>“See what I have brought you,” said Sigrid, re-entering the -sick-room a little later on.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof took the basket and looked, with a pleasure which -a few weeks ago would have been impossible to him, at the -lovely flowers and fruit.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You have come just at the right time, for he will insist on -talking of all the deepest things in heaven and earth,” said Roy, -“and this makes a good diversion.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“They are from Mrs. Boniface. Is it not kind of her! And -do you know, Frithiof, she and Doctor Morris have been making -quite a deep plot; they want to transplant us bodily to -Rowan Tree House, and Doctor Morris thinks the move could -do you no harm now that you are getting better.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>His face lighted up with something of its former expression.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How I should like never to see this hateful room again!” -he exclaimed. “You don’t know how I detest it. The old -ghosts seem to haunt it still. There is nothing that I can bear -to look at except your picture of Bergen, which has done me -more than one good turn.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid, partly to keep him from talking<a id='t173'></a> too much, partly because -she always liked to tell people of that little act of kindness, -gave Roy the history of the picture, and Frithiof lay -musing over the curious relative power of kindness and cruelty, -and was obliged, though somewhat reluctantly, to admit to himself -that a very slight act of kindness certainly did exert an -enormous and unthought-of influence.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Physical disorder had had much to do with the black view -of life which he had held for the last few months, but now -that the climax had been reached and rest had been forced upon -him, his very exhaustion and helplessness enabled him to see a -side of life which had never before been visible to him. He -was very much softened by all that he had been through. It -seemed that while the events of the past year had imbittered -and hardened him, this complete breakdown of bodily strength -had brought back something of his old nature. The bright -enjoyment of mere existence could of course never return to -him, but still, notwithstanding the scar of his old wound, there -came to him during those days of his convalescence a sense of -keen pleasure in Sigrid’s presence, in his gradually returning -strength, and in the countless little acts of kindness which -everybody showed him.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>The change to Rowan Tree House seemed to work wonders -to him. The house had always charmed him, and the recollection -of the first time he had entered it, using it as a shelter -from the storm of life, much as Roy and Cecil had used his -father’s house as a shelter from the drenching rain of Bergen, -returned to him again and again through the quiet weeks that -followed. The past year looked now to him like a nightmare -to a man who was awakened in broad daylight. It seemed to -him that he was lying at the threshold of a new life, worn and -tired with the old life, it was true, yet with a gradually increasing -interest in what lay beyond, and a perception that there -were many things of which he had as yet but the very faintest -notion.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid told him all the details of her life in Norway since -they had last seen each other, of her refusal of Torvald Lundgren, -of her relations with her aunt, of the early morning on -Hjerkinshö. And her story touched him. When, stirred by -all that had happened into unwonted earnestness, she owned to -him that after that morning on the mountain everything had -seemed different, he did not, as he would once have done, -laughingly change the subject, or say that religion was all -very well for women.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It was just as if I had worn a crape veil all my life,” she -said, looking up from her work for a moment with those clear, -blue, practical eyes of hers. “And up there on the mountain -it seemed as if some one had lifted it quite away.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her words stirred within him an uneasy sense of loss, a vague -desire, which he had once or twice felt before. He was quite -silent for some time, lying back idly in his chair and watching -her as she worked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sigrid!” he said at last, with a suppressed eagerness in his -voice, “Sigrid, you wont go back again to Norway and leave -me?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, dear, I will never leave you,” she said warmly. “I -will try to find some sort of work. To-night I mean to talk to -Mr. Boniface about it. Surely in this huge place there must be -something I can do.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is its very hugeness that makes one despair,” said Frithiof. -“Good God! what I went through last autumn! And -there are thousands in the same plight, thousands who would -work if only they could meet with employment.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Discussing the vexed question of the unemployed?” said -Mr. Boniface, entering the room in time to hear this last remark.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” said Sigrid, smiling. “Though I’m a wretched -<span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>foreigner come to swell their number. But what can be the -cause of such distress?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I think it is this,” said Mr. Boniface, “population goes on -increasing, but practical Christianity does not increase at the -same rate.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Are you what they call a Christian Socialist?” asked -Sigrid.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No; I am not very fond of assuming any distinctive party -name, and the Socialists seem to me to look too much to compulsion. -You can’t make people practical Christians by Act -of Parliament; you have no right to force the rich to relieve -the poor. The nation suffers, and all things are at a dead-lock -because so many of us neglect our duty. If we argued less -about the ‘masses,’ and quietly did as we would be done by to -those with whom life brings us into contact, I believe the distress -would soon be at an end.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you mean by that private almsgiving?” asked Frithiof. -“Surely that can only pauperize the people.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I certainly don’t mean indiscriminate almsgiving,” said -Mr. Boniface; “I mean only this. You start with your own -family; do your duty by them. You have a constant succession -of servants passing through your household; be a friend -to them. You have men and women in your employ; share -their troubles. Perhaps you have tenants; try to look at life -from their point of view. If we all tried to do this the cure -would indeed be found, and the breach between the rich and -poor bridged over.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>How simply and unostentatiously Mr. Boniface lived out his -own theory Frithiof knew quite well. He reflected that all the -kindness he himself had received had not tended to pauperize -him, had not in the least crushed his independence or injured -his self-respect. On the contrary, it had saved him from utter -ruin, and had awakened in him a gratitude which would last -all his life. But this new cure was not to depend only on taxation -or on the State, but on a great influence working within -each individual. The idea set him thinking, and the sense of -his own ignorance weighed upon him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>One morning it chanced that, sitting out in the veranda at -the back of the house, he overheard Lance’s reading-lesson, -which was going on in the morning-room. Sounds of laborious -wrestling with the difficulties of “Pat a fat cat,” and other -interesting injunctions, made him realize how very slow human -nature is to learn any perfectly new thing, and how toilsome -are first steps. Presently came a sound of trotting feet.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>“Gwen! Gwen!” shouted Lance, “come here to us. Cecil -is going to read to us out of her Bible, and it’s awfully jolly!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He heard a stifled laugh from Cecil.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, Lance,” she said, “Gwen is much too young to care -for it. Come, shut the door, and we will begin.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Again came the sound of trotting feet, then Cecil’s clear, low -voice. “What story do you want?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Read about the three men walking in the fender and the -fairy coming to them,” said Lance promptly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Not a fairy, Lance.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, I mean a angel,” he replied apologetically.</p> - -<p class='c000'>So she read him his favorite story of Nebuchadnezzar the -king, and the golden image and the three men who would not -bow down to it.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You see,” she said at the end, “they were brave men; -they would not do what they knew to be wrong. We want -you to grow like them.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>There was a silence, broken at last by Lance.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I will only hammer nails in wood,” he said gravely.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How do you mean?” asked Cecil, not quite seeing the -connection.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Not into the tables and chairs,” said Lance, who had -clearly transgressed in this matter, and had applied the story -to his own life with amusing simplicity.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That’s right,” said Cecil. “God will be pleased if you -try.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He can see us, but we can’t see him,” said Lance, in his -sweet childish tones, quietly telling forth in implicit trust the -truth that many a man longs to believe.</p> - -<p class='c000'>A minute after he came dancing out into the garden, his -short, sunny curls waving in the summer wind, his cheeks glowing, -his hazel eyes and innocent little mouth beaming with -happiness.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He looks like an incarnate smile,” thought Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And then he remembered what Roy had told him of the -father and mother, and he thought how much trouble awaited -the poor child, and felt the same keen wish that Cecil had felt -that he might be brought up in a way which should make him -able to resist whatever evil tendencies he had inherited. “If -anything can save him it will be such a home as this,” he -reflected.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then, as Cecil came out into the veranda, he joined her, -and they walked together down one of the shady garden paths.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I overheard your pupil this morning,” he began, and they -<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>laughed together over the child’s quaint remarks. “That was -very good, his turning the story to practical account all by -himself. He is a lucky little beggar to have you for his teacher. -I wonder what makes a child so ready to swallow quite easily -the most difficult things in heaven and earth?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I suppose because he knows he can’t altogether understand, -and is willing to take things on trust,” said Cecil.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If anything can keep him straight when he grows up it will -be what you have taught him,” said Frithiof. “You wonder -that I admit that, and a year ago I couldn’t have said as much, -but I begin to think that there is after all a very great restraining -power in the old faith. The difficulty is to get up any sort of -interest in that kind of thing.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You talk as if it were a sort of science,” said Cecil.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That is precisely what it seems to me; and just as one -man is born with a love of botany, another takes naturally to -astronomy, and a third has no turn for science whatever, but -is fond of hunting and fishing, so it seems to me with religion. -All of you, perhaps, have inherited the tendency from your -Puritan forefathers, but I have inherited quite the opposite -tendency from my Viking ancestors. Like them, I prefer to -love my friend and hate my enemy, and go through life in the -way that best pleases me. I am not a reading man; I can’t -get up the faintest sort of interest in these religious matters.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We are talking of two different things,” said Cecil. “It is -of the mere framework of religion that you are speaking. -Very likely many of us are born without any taste for theology, -or sermons, or Church history. We are not bound surely to -force up an interest in them.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then if all that is not religion, pray what is it? You are -not like Miss Charlotte, who uses phrases without analyzing -them. What do you mean by religion?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I mean knowing and loving God,” she said, after a moment’s -pause.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her tone was very gentle, and not in the least didactic.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have believed in a God always—more or less,” said -Frithiof slowly. “But how do you get to know Him?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I think it is something in the same way that people get to -know each other,” said Cecil. “Cousin James Horner, for -instance, sees my father every day; he has often stayed in the -same house with him, and has in a sense known him all his -life. But he doesn’t really know him at all. He never takes -the trouble really to know any one. He sees the outside of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>my father—that is all. They have hardly anything in common.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Mr. Horner is so full of himself and his own opinions that -he never could appreciate such a man as your father,” said -Frithiof. Then, perceiving that his own mouth had condemned -him, he relapsed into silence. “What is your receipt, -now, for getting to know a person?” he said presently, with a -smile.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“First,” she said thoughtfully, “a desire to know and a -willingness to be known. Then I think one must forget one’s -self as much as possible, and try to understand the feelings, -and words, and acts of the one you wish to know in the light -of the whole life, or as much as you can learn of it, not merely -of the present. Then, too, I am quite sure that you must be -alone together, for it is only alone that people will talk of the -most real things.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He was silent, trying in his own mind to fit her words to his -own need.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then you don’t think, as some do, that when once we set -out with a real desire all the rest is quite easy and to be drifted -into without any special effort.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No,” she said, “I do not believe in drifting. And if we -were not so lazy I believe we should all of us know more of -God. It is somehow difficult to take quite so much pains about -that as about other things.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It can’t surely be difficult to you; it always seems to be -easy to women, but to us men all is so different.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Are you so sure of that?” she said quietly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have always fancied so,” he replied. “Why, the very idea -of shutting one’s self in alone to think—to pray—it is so utterly -unnatural to a man.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I suppose the harder it is the more it is necessary,” said -Cecil. “But our Lord was not always praying on mountains; -he was living a quite ordinary shop life, and must have been -as busy as you are.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her words startled him; everything connected with Christianity -had been to him lifeless, unreal, formal—something -utterly apart from the every-day life of a nineteenth century -man. She had told him that to her religion meant “knowing” -and “loving,” and he now perceived that by “loving” she -meant the active living of the Christ-life, the constant endeavor -to do the will of God. She had not actually said this in -so many words, but he knew more plainly than if she had spoken -that this was her meaning.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>They paced in silence the shady garden walk. To Frithiof -the whole world seemed wider than it had ever been before. -On the deadly monotony of his business life there had arisen a -light which altogether transformed it. He did his best even -now to quench its brightness, and said to himself, “This will -not last; I shall hate desk and counter and all the rest of it as -badly as ever when I go back.” For it was his habit since -Blanche had deceived him to doubt the lastingness of all that -he desired to keep. Still, though he doubted for the future, -the present was wonderfully changed, and the new idea that -had come into his life was the best medicine he could have had.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid watched his returning strength with delight; indeed, -perhaps she never realized what he had been during his lonely -months of London life. She had not seen the bitterness, the -depression, the hardness, the too evident deterioration which -had saddened Cecil’s heart through the winter and spring; and -she could not see as Cecil saw how he was struggling up now -into a nobler manhood. Roy instinctively felt it. Mr. Boniface, -with his ready sympathy and keen insight, found out -something of the true state of the case; but only Cecil actually -knew it. She had had to bear the worst of the suffering all -through those long months, and it was but fair that the joy -should be hers alone.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof hardly knew which part of the day was most pleasant -to him, the quiet mornings after Mr. Boniface and Roy had -gone to town, when he and Sigrid were left to their own devices; -the pleasant little break at eleven, when Mrs. Boniface looked -in to remind them that fruit was good in the morning, and to -tempt him with pears and grapes, while Cecil and the two -children came in from the garden, bringing with them a sense -of freshness and life; the drowsy summer afternoon when he -dozed over a novel; the drive in the cool of the day, and the -delightful home evenings with music and reading aloud.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Quiet the life was, it is true, but dull never. Every one had -plenty to do, yet not too much, for Mr. Boniface had a horror -of the modern craze for rushing into all sorts of philanthropic -undertakings, would have nothing to do with bazaars, groaned -inwardly when he was obliged by a sense of duty to attend any -public meeting, and protested vehemently against the multiplication -of “Societies.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have a pet Society of my own,” he used to say with a -smile. “It is the Keeping at Home Society. Every householder -is his own president, and the committee is formed by -his family.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>Notwithstanding this, he was the most widely charitable man, -and was always ready to lend a helping hand; but he loved to -work quietly, and all who belonged to him caught something -of the same tone, so that in the house there was a total absence -of that wearing whirl of good works in which many people live -nowadays, and though perhaps they had not so many irons in -the fire, yet the work they did was better done in consequence, -and the home remained what it was meant to be, a center of -love and life, not a mere eating-house and dormitory.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Into the midst of this home there had come now some strangely -fresh elements. Three distinct romances were being worked -out beneath that quiet roof. There was poor Frithiof with his -shattered life, his past an agony which would scarcely bear -thinking of, his future a desperate struggle with circumstances. -There was Cecil, whose life was so far bound up with his that -when he suffered she suffered too, yet had to live on with a -serene face and make no sign. There was Roy already madly -in love with the blue-eyed, fair-haired Sigrid, who seemed in -the glad reaction after all her troubles to have developed into -a totally different being, and was the life of the party. And -yet in spite of the inevitable pain of love, these were happy -days for all of them. Happy to Frithiof because his strength -was returning to him; because, with an iron resolution, he as -far as possible shut out the remembrance of Blanche; because -the spirit life within him was slowly developing, and for the -first time he had become conscious that it was a reality.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Happy for Cecil, because her love was no foolish sentimentality, -no selfish day-dream, but a noble love which taught her -more than anything else could possibly have done; because, -instead of pining away at the thought that Frithiof was utterly -indifferent to her, she took it on trust that God would withhold -from her no really good thing, and made the most of the trifling -ways in which she could at present help him. Happiest -of all perhaps for Roy, because his love-story was full of bright -hope—a hope that each day grew fuller and clearer.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Robin,” said Mrs. Boniface, one evening, to her husband, -as together they paced to and fro in the veranda, while Frithiof -was being initiated into lawn-tennis in the garden, “I think -Sigrid Falck is one of the sweetest girls I ever saw.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“So thinks some one else, if I am not much mistaken,” he -replied.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then you, too, have noticed it. I am so glad. I hoped it -was so, but could not feel sure. Oh, Robin, I wonder if he has -any chance? She would make him such a sweet little wife!”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>“How can we tell that she has not left her heart in Norway?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I do not think so,” said Mrs. Boniface. “No, I feel sure -that can’t be, from the way in which she speaks of her life -there. If there is any rival to be feared it is Frithiof. They -seem to me wrapped up in each other, and it is only natural, -too, after all their trouble and separation and this illness of his. -How strong he is getting again, and how naturally he takes to -the game! He is such a fine-looking fellow, somehow he -dwarfs every one else,” and she glanced across to the opposite -side of the lawn, where Roy with his more ordinary height and -build certainly did seem somewhat eclipsed. And yet to her -motherly eyes that honest, open, English face, with its sun-burned -skin, was perhaps the fairest sight in the world.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Not that she was a blindly and foolishly loving mother; she -knew that he had his faults. But she knew, too, that he was a -sterling fellow, and that he would make the woman he married -perfectly happy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>They were so taken up with thoughts of the visible romance -that was going on beneath their eyes, that it never occurred to -them to think of what might be passing in the minds of the -two on the other side of the net. And perhaps that was just -as well, for the picture was a sad one, and would certainly have -cast a shadow upon their hearts. Cecil was too brave and -resolute and self-controlled to allow her love to undermine her -health; nor did she so brood upon her inevitable loss that she -ceased to enjoy the rest of her life. There was very much still left -to her, and though at times everything seemed to her flavorless -and insipid, yet the mood would pass, and she would be able -intensely to enjoy her home life. Still there was no denying -that the happiness which seemed dawning for Roy and Sigrid -was denied to the other two; they were handicapped in the game -of life just as they were at tennis—the setting sun shone full -in their faces and made the play infinitely more difficult, -whereas the others playing in the shady courts had a considerable -advantage over them.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, is the set over?” asked Mr. Boniface, as the two girls -came toward them.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” cried Sigrid merrily. “And actually our side has -won! I am so proud of having beaten Cecil and Frithiof, -for, as a rule, Frithiof is one of those detestable people who -win everything. It was never any fun playing with him when -we were children, he was always so lucky.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>As she spoke Frithiof had come up the steps behind her.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>“My luck has turned, you see,” he said, with a smile in -which there was a good deal of sadness. But his tone was -playful, and indeed it seemed that he had entirely got rid of -the bitterness which had once dominated every look and -word.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Nonsense!” she cried, slipping her hand into his arm. -“Your luck will return; it is only that you are not quite strong -again yet. Wait a day or two, and I shall not have a chance -against you. You need not grudge me my one little victory.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It has not tired you too much?” asked Mrs. Boniface, -glancing up at Frithiof. There was a glow of health in his face -which she had never before seen, and his expression, which had -once been stern, had grown much more gentle. “But I see,” -she added, “that is a foolish question, for I don’t think I have -ever seen you looking better. It seems to me this is the sort -of exercise you need. We let you stay much too long over -that translating in the old days.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” said Sigrid; “I hardly know whether to laugh or -cry when I think of Frithiof, of all people in the world, doing -learned translations for such a man as Herr Sivertsen. He -never could endure sedentary life.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And yet,” said Mr. Boniface, pacing along the veranda -with her, “I tried in vain to make him take up cricket. He -declared that in Norway you did not go in for our English -notions of exercise for the sake of exercise.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Perhaps not,” said Sigrid; “but he was always going in -for the wildest adventures, and never had the least taste for -books. Poor Frithiof, it only shows how brave and resolute he -is; he is so set upon paying off these debts that he will sacrifice -everything to that one idea, and will keep to work which -must be hateful to him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He is a fine fellow,” said Mr. Boniface. “I had hardly -realized what his previous life must have been, though of -course I knew that the drudgery of shop life was sorely against -the grain.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ever since he was old enough to hold a gun, he used to go -with my father in August to the mountains in North Fjord for -the reindeer hunting,” said Sigrid. “And every Sunday -through the winter he used to go by himself on the wildest excursions -after sea-birds. My father said it was good training -for him, and as long as he took with him old Nils, his <span lang="da" xml:lang="da">skydsmand</span>—I -think you call that boatman in English—he was never -worried about him when he was away. But sometimes I was -afraid for him, and old Gro, our nurse, always declared that he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>would end by being drowned. Come here, Frithiof, and tell -Mr. Boniface about your night on the fjord by Bukken.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>His eyes lighted up at the recollection.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ah, it was such fun!” he cried; “though we were cheated -out of our sport after all. I had left Bergen on the Saturday, -going with old Nils to Bukken, and there as usual we took a -boat to row across to Gjelleslad where I generally slept, getting -up at four in the morning to go after the birds. Well, that -night Nils and I set out to row across, but had not got far -when the most fearful storm came down on us. I never saw -such lightning, before or since, and the wind was terrific; we -could do nothing against it, and indeed it was wonderful that -we did not go to the bottom. By good luck we were driven -back to land, and managed to haul up the boat, turn it up, and -shelter as best we could under it, old Nils swearing like a -trooper and declaring I should be the death of him some day. -For four mortal hours we stayed there, and the storm still -raged. At last, by good luck, I hunted up four men who were -willing to run the risk of rowing us back to Bergen. Then off -we set, Nils vowing that we should be drowned, and so we were -very nearly. It was the wildest night I ever knew, and the -rowing was fearful work, but at last we got safely home.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And you should have seen him,” cried Sigrid. “He roused -us all up at half-past six in the morning, and there he was, -soaked to the skin, but looking so bright and jolly, and making -us roar with laughter with his description of it all. And I really -believe it did him good; for after a few hours’ sleep he came -down in the best possible of humors. And don’t you remember, -Frithiof, how you played it all on your violin?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And was only successful in showing how well Nils growled,” -said Frithiof, laughing.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The reference to the violin suggested the usual evening’s -music, and they went into the drawing-room, where Sigrid -played them some Norwegian airs, Roy standing near her, and -watching her fair, sweet face, which was still glowing with the -recollection of those old days of which they had talked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Was it possible,” he thought, “that she who was so devoted -to her brother, that she who loved the thought of perilous adventures, -and so ardently admired the bold, fearless, peril-seeking -nature of the old Vikings, was it possible that she -could ever love such an ordinary, humdrum, commonplace -Londoner as himself?” He fell into great despondency, and -envied Frithiof his Norse nature, his fine physique, his daring -spirit.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>How infinitely harder life was rendered to his friend by that -same nature, he did not pause to think, and sorry as he was for -Frithiof’s troubles, he scarcely realized at all the force with -which they had fallen upon the Norwegian’s proud, self-reliant -character.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Absorbed in the thought of his own love, he had little leisure -for such observations. The one all-engrossing question excluded -everything else. And sometimes with hope he asked himself, -“Can she love me?”—sometimes in despair assured -himself that it was impossible—altogether impossible.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XX' class='c005'>CHAPTER XX.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>If any one had told Roy that his fate was to be seriously -affected by Mrs. James Horner, he would scarcely have credited -the idea. But the romances of real life are not as a rule -spoiled by some black-hearted villain, but are quite unconsciously -checked by uninteresting matrons, or prosaic men of -the world, who, with entire innocence, frustrate hopes and in -happy ignorance go on their way, never realizing that they -have had anything to do with the actual lives of those they -meet. If the life at Rowan Tree House had gone on without -interruption, if Sigrid had been unable to find work and had -been at perfect leisure to consider Roy’s wooing, it is quite -probable that in a few weeks their friendship might have ended -in betrothal. But Mrs. James Horner gave a children’s party, -and this fact changed the whole aspect of affairs.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is, as you say, rather soon after my poor uncle’s death -for us to give a dance,” said Mrs. Horner, as she sat in the -drawing-room of Rowan Tree House discussing the various -arrangements. “But you see it is dear Mamie’s birthday, and -I do not like to disappoint her; and Madame Lechertier has -taken the idea up so warmly, and has promised to come as a -spectator. It was at her suggestion that we made it a fancy -dress affair.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Who is Madame Lechertier?” asked Sigrid, who listened -with all the interest of a foreigner to these details.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She is a very celebrated dancing mistress,” explained Cecil. -“I should like you to see her, for she is quite a character.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Miss Falck will, I hope, come to our little entertainment,” -said Mrs. Horner graciously. For, although she detested -Frithiof, she had been, against her will, charmed by Sigrid. -“It is, you know, quite a small affair—about fifty children, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>and only from seven to ten. I would not, for the world, shock -the congregation, Loveday, so I mean to make it all as simple -as possible. I do not know that I shall even have ices.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My dear, I do not think ices would shock them,” said Mrs. -Boniface, “though I should think perhaps they might not be -wholesome for little children who have got heated with dancing.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, I don’t really think they’ll be shocked at all,” said -Mrs. Horner, smiling. “James could do almost anything before -they’d be shocked. You see, he’s such a benefactor to -the chapel and is so entirely the leading spirit, why, where -would they be without him?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mrs. Boniface murmured some kindly reply. It was quite -true, as she knew very well. James Horner was so entirely -the rich and generous head of the congregation that everything -had to give way to him, and the minister was not a little -hampered in consequence. It was perhaps the perception of -this which made Mr. Boniface, an equally rich and generous -man, play a much more quiet part. He worked quite as hard -to further the good of the congregation, but his work was -much less apparent, nor did he ever show the least symptom -of that love of power which was the bane of James Horner’s -existence.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Whether Mr. Boniface entirely approved of this children’s -fancy-dress dance, Sigrid could not feel sure. She fancied -that, in spite of all his kindly, tolerant spirit, he had an innate -love of the older forms of Puritanism, and that his quiet, home-keeping -nature could not understand at all the enjoyment of -dancing or of character-dresses. Except with regard to music, -the artistic side of his nature was not highly developed, and -while his descent from Puritan forefathers had given him an -immense advantage in many ways, and had undoubtedly -helped to make him the conscientious, liberty loving, God-fearing -man he was, yet it had also given him the Puritan -tendency to look with distrust on many innocent enjoyments. -He was always fearful of what these various forms of amusement -might lead to. But he forgot to think of what dullness -and dearth of amusement might lead to, and had not fully -appreciated the lesson which Englishmen must surely have -been intended to learn from the violent reaction of the Restoration -after the restrictions of the Commonwealth.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But no matters of opinion ever made even a momentary discomfort -in that happy household. Uniformity there was not, -for they thought very differently, and each held fast to his own -<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>view; but there was something much higher than uniformity, -there was unity, which is the outcome of love. Little differences -of practice came from time to time; they went their -various ways to church and chapel on Sunday, and Roy and -Cecil would go to hear Donati at the opera-house, while the -father and mother would have to wait till there was a chance -of hearing the celebrated baritone at St. James’s Hall; but in -the great aims of life they were absolutely united, and worked -and lived in perfect harmony. At length the great day came, -and Mr. Boniface and Roy on their return from town were -greeted by a bewitching little figure on the stairs, with curly -hair combed out to its full length and a dainty suit of crimson -velvet trimmed with gold lace.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, who are you?” said Mr. Boniface, entering almost -unconsciously into the fun of the masquerade.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I’m Cinderella’s prince,” shouted Lance gleefully, and in -the highest spirits the little fellow danced in to show Frithiof -his get-up, capering all over the room in that rapturous enjoyment -of childhood, the sight of which is one of the purest -pleasures of all true men and women. Frithiof, who had been -tired and depressed all day, brightened up at once when Lance, -who was very fond of him, came to sit on his knee in that ecstasy -of happy impatience which one only sees in children.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What is the time now?” he asked every two minutes. -“Do you think it will soon be time to go? Don’t you almost -think you hear the carriage coming?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“As for me,” said Sigrid, “I feel like Cinderella before the -fairy godmother came. You are sure Mrs. Horner will not -mind this ordinary black gown?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, dear, no,” said Cecil. “You see, she herself is in -mourning; and besides, you look charming, Sigrid.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The compliment was quite truthful, for Sigrid, in her quiet -black dress, which suited her slim figure to perfection, the -simple folds of white net about her neck, and the delicate -blush roses and maidenhair which Roy had gathered for -her, certainly looked the most charming little woman imaginable.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I wish you could come, too,” said Cecil, glancing at Frithiof, -while she swathed the little prince in a thick plaid. “It will -be very pretty to see all the children in costume.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” he replied; “but my head would never stand the -noise and the heat. I am better here.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We shall take great care of him,” said Mrs. Boniface; -“and you must tell us all about it afterward. Don’t keep -<span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>Lance up late if he seems to get tired, dearie. Good-by, and -mind you enjoy yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There goes a happy quartet,” said Mr. Boniface, as he -closed the door behind them. “But here, to my way of thinking, -is a more enviable trio. Did you ever see this book, -Frithiof?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Since his illness they had fallen into the habit of calling him -by his Christian name, for he had become almost like one of -the family. Even in his worst days they had all been fond of -him, and now in these days of his convalescence, when physical -suffering had brought out the gentler side of his nature, and -his strength of character was shown rather in silent patience -than in dogged and desperate energy, as of old, he had won all -hearts. The proud, willful isolation which had made his -fellow-workers detest him had been broken down at length, -and gratitude for all the kindness he had received at Rowan -Tree House had so changed him that it seemed unlikely that -he would ever sink again into such an extremity of hard bitterness. -His laughter over the book which Mr. Boniface had -brought him seemed to his host and hostess a promising sign, -and over “Three in Norway” these three in England passed -the pleasant evening which Mr. Boniface had predicted.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Meanwhile Sigrid was thoroughly enjoying herself. True, -Mr. and Mrs. Horner were vulgar, and now and then said -things which jarred on her, but with all their failings they had -a considerable share of genuine kindliness, and the very best -side of them showed that night, as they tried to make all their -guests happy. A children’s party generally does call out whatever -good there is in people; unkind gossip is seldom heard -at such a time, and people are never bored, for they are infected -by the genuine enjoyment of the little ones, the dancers -who do not, as in later life, wear masks, whose smiles are the -smiles of real and intense happiness, whose laughter is so inspiriting. -It was, moreover, the first really gay scene which -had met Sigrid’s eyes for nearly a year, and she enjoyed to the -full the quaint little cavaliers, the tiny court ladies, with their -powdered hair and their patches; the Red Riding-hoods and -Bo-Peeps; the fairies and the peasants; the Robin Hoods and -Maid Marians. The dancing was going on merrily when Mme. -Lechertier was announced, and Sigrid looked up with interest -to see what the lady who was pronounced to be “quite a -character” was like. She was a tall and wonderfully graceful -woman, with an expressive but plain face. In repose her expression -was decidedly autocratic, but she had a most charming -<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>smile, and a perfect manner. The Norwegian girl took a great -fancy to her, and the feeling was mutual, for the great Mme. -Lechertier, who, it was rumored, was of a keenly critical disposition, -instantly noticed her, and turned to the hostess with -an eager question.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What a charming face that golden-haired girl has!” she -said in her outspoken and yet courteous way. “With all her -simplicity there is such a pretty little touch of dignity. See -how perfect her bow is! What is her name? And may I not -be introduced to her?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She is a friend of my cousin’s,” explained Mrs. Horner, -glad to claim this sort of proprietorship in any one who -had called forth compliments from the lips of so critical a -judge.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She is Norwegian, and her name is Falck.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid liked the bright, clever, majestic-looking Frenchwoman -better than ever after she had talked with her. There -was, indeed, in Mme. Lechertier something very refreshing. -Her chief charm was that she was so utterly unlike any one -else. There was about her an individuality that was really -astonishing, and when you heard her talk you felt the same -keen sense of novelty and interest that is awakened by the first -sight of a foreign country. She in her turn was enchanted by -Sigrid’s perfect naturalness and vivacity, and they had become -fast friends, when presently a pause in the music made them -both look up.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The pianist, a pale, worn-looking lady, whose black silk -dress had an ominously shiny back, which told its tale of poverty, -all at once broke down, and her white face touched Sigrid’s -heart.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I think she is faint,” she exclaimed. “Do you think I -might offer to play for her?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is a kind thought,” said Mme. Lechertier, and she -watched with interest while the pretty Norwegian girl hastened -to the piano, and with a few hurried words relieved the pianist, -who beat a hasty retreat into the cooler air of the hall.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She played extremely well, and being herself a born dancer, -entered into the spirit of the waltz in a way which her predecessor -had wholly failed to do. Mme. Lechertier was -delighted, and when by and by Sigrid was released she rejoined -her, and refused to be borne off to the supper-room by Mr. -Horner.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, no,” she said; “let the little people be attended to -first. Miss Falck and I mean to have a quiet talk here.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_189'>189</span>So Sigrid told her something of her life at Bergen, and of -the national love of music and dancing, and thoroughly interested -her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And when do you return?” asked Mme. Lechertier.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That depends on whether I can find work in England,” -replied Sigrid. “What I wish is to stay in London with my -brother. He has been very ill, and I do not think he ought to -live alone.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What sort of work do you wish for?” asked Madame -Lechertier.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I would do anything,” said Sigrid. “But the worst of it is -everything is so crowded already, and I have no very special -talent.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My dear,” said Madame Lechertier, “it seems to me you -have a very decided talent. You play dance music better than -any one I ever heard, and that is saying a good deal. Why -do you not turn this to account?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you think I could?” asked Sigrid, her eyes lighting up -eagerly. “Do you really think I could earn my living by it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I feel sure of it,” said Madame Lechertier. “And if you -seriously think the idea is good I will come and discuss the -matter with you. I hear you are a friend of my old pupil, Miss -Boniface.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, we are staying now at Rowan Tree House; they have -been so good to us.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“They are delightful people—the father is one of nature’s -true gentlemen. I shall come and see you, then, and talk this -over. To-morrow morning, if that will suit you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid went home in high spirits, and the next day, when as -usual she and Frithiof were alone in the morning-room after -breakfast, she told him of Madame Lechertier’s proposal, and -while they were still discussing the matter the good lady was -announced.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Now, like many people, Madame Lechertier was benevolent -by impulse. Had Sigrid been less attractive, she would -not have gone out of her way to help her; but the Norwegian -girl had somehow touched her heart.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It will be a case of ‘Colors seen by candlelight will not -look the same by day,’” she had reflected as she walked to -Rowan Tree House. “I shall find my pretty Norse girl quite -commonplace and uninteresting, and my castle in the air will -fall in ruins.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But when she was shown into the room where Sigrid sat at -work, all her fears vanished. “The girl has bewitched me!” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_190'>190</span>she thought to herself. “And the brother, what a fine-looking -fellow! There is a history behind that face if I’m not -mistaken.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We have just been talking over what you said to me last -night, Madame,” said Sigrid brightly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The question is,” said Madame Lechertier, “whether you -are really in earnest in seeking work, and whether you will not -object to my proposal. The fact is that the girl who for some -time has played for me at my principal classes is going to be -married. I have, of course, another assistant upon whom I -can, if need be, fall back; but she does not satisfy me, we do -not work well together, and her playing is not to be compared -to yours. I should only need you in the afternoon, and during -the three terms of the year. Each term is of twelve weeks, -and the salary I should offer you would be £24 a term—£2 a -week, you see.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, Frithiof!” cried Sigrid, in great excitement, “we -should be able to help Swanhild. We could have her over -from Norway. Surely your salary and mine together would -keep us all?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Who is Swanhild?” asked Madame Lechertier.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She is our little sister, Madame. She is much younger—only -eleven years old, and as we are orphans, Frithiof and I -are her guardians.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Madame Lechertier looked at the two young faces, smiling -to think that they should be already burdened with the cares -of guardianship. It touched her, and yet at the same time it -was almost comical to hear these two young things gravely -talking about their ward.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You see,” said Frithiof, “there would be her education; one -must not forget that.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But at the high schools it is very cheap, is it not, Madame?” -said Sigrid.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“About ten pounds a year,” said Madame Lechertier. -“What is your little sister like, because if she is at all like -you—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Here is her photograph,” said Sigrid, unfastening her -writing-case and taking out Swanhild’s picture. “This is taken -in her peasant costume which she used to wear sometimes for -fun when when we were in the country. It suits her very well, -I think.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But she is charming,” cried Madame Lechertier. “Such -a dainty little figure—such well-shaped legs! My dear, I have -a bright thought—an inspiration. Send for your little Swanhild, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span>and when you come to me each afternoon bring her also -in this fascinating costume. She shall be my little pupil-teacher, -and though, of course, her earnings would be but -small, yet they would more than cover her education at a high -school, and she would be learning a useful profession into the -bargain.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She glanced at Frithiof and saw quite plainly that he shrank -from the idea, and that it would go hard with his proud nature -to accept such an offer. She glanced at Sigrid, and saw that -the sister was ready to sacrifice anything for the sake of getting -the little girl to England. Then, having as much tact as kindness, -she rose to go.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You will talk it over between you and let me know your -decision,” she said pleasantly. “Consult Mr. and Mrs. Boniface, -and let me know in a day or two. Why should you not -come in to afternoon tea with me to-morrow, for I shall be at -home for once, and can show you my canaries? Cecil will -bring you. She and I are old friends.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>When she was gone Sigrid returned to the room with dancing -eyes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Is she not delightful!” she cried. “For myself, Frithiof, I -can’t hesitate for a moment. The work will be easy, and she -will be thoroughly kind.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She has a bad temper,” said Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How do you know?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Because no sweet-tempered woman ever had such a straight, -thin-lipped mouth.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I think you are very horrid to pick holes in her when she -has been so kind to us. For myself I must accept. But how -about Swanhild?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I hate the thought for either of you,” said Frithiof moodily.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Somehow, though his own descent in the social scale had -been disagreeable enough, yet it had not been so intolerable to -him as this thought of work for his sisters.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Now, Frithiof, don’t go and be a goose about it,” said -Sigrid caressingly. “If we are ever to have a nice, cosy little -home together we must certainly work at something, and we -are not likely to get lighter, or more congenial, or better-paid -work than this. Come, dear, you have got, as Lance would -say, to ‘grin and bear it.’”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He sighed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“In any case, we must give Swanhild herself a voice in the -matter,” he said at length. “Accept the offer if you like, provisionally, -and let us write to her and tell her about it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>“Very well, we will write a joint letter and give her all sorts -of guardianly advice. But, all the same, you know as well as -I do that Swanhild will not hesitate for a moment. She is -dying to come to England, and she is never so happy as when -she is dancing.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof thought of that day long ago, when he had come -home after meeting the Morgans at the Bergen landing quay, -and had heard Sigrid playing as he walked up the garden path, -and had found Swanhild dancing so merrily with Lillo, and the -old refrain that had haunted him then returned to him now in -bitter mockery:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“To-day is just a day to my mind;</div> - <div class='line'>All sunny before and sunny behind,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Over the heather.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>When Roy came home that evening the matter was practically -decided. Frithiof and Sigrid had had a long talk in the -library with Mr. and Mrs. Boniface, and by and by in the garden -Sigrid told him gleefully what she called the “good news.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I can afford to laugh now at my aluminium pencils and -the embroidery patterns, and the poodle shaving,” she said -gayly. “Was it not lucky that we happened to go to Mrs. -Horner’s party, and that everything happened just as it did?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you really like the prospect?” asked Roy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Indeed I do. I haven’t felt so happy for months. For -now we need never again be parted from Frithiof. It will be -the best thing in the world for him to have a comfortable little -home; and I shall take good care that he doesn’t work too -hard. Mr. Boniface has been so good. He says that Frithiof -can have some extra work to do if he likes; he can attend -some of your concerts, and arrange the platform between the -pieces; and this will add nicely to his salary. And then, too, -when he heard that I had quite decided on accepting Mme. -Lechertier’s offer, he proposed something else for us too.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What was that?” said poor Roy, his heart sinking down -like lead.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, he thinks that he might get us engagements to play -at children’s parties or small dances. Frithiof’s violin playing -is quite good enough, he says. And don’t you think it would -be much better for him than poring so long over that hateful -work of Herr Sivertsen’s?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Roy was obliged to assent. He saw only too clearly that to -speak to her now of his love would be utterly useless—indeed, -worse than useless. She would certainly refuse him, and there -<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>would be an end of the pleasant intercourse. Moreover, it -would be far more difficult to help them, as they were now -able to do in various small ways.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Frithiof is rather down in the depths about it,” said Sigrid. -“And I do hope you will cheer him up. After all, it is very -silly to think that there is degradation in any kind of honest -work. If you had known what it was to live in dependence on -relations for so long you would understand how happy I am -to-night. I, too, shall be able to help in paying off the debts!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Is her life also to be given up to that desperate attempt?” -thought Roy despondently.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And if Sigrid had not been absorbed in her own happy -thoughts, his depression, and perhaps the cause of it, would -have been apparent to her. But she strolled along the garden -path beside him, in blissful ignorance, thinking of a busy, successful -future, in which Roy Boniface played no part at all.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She was his friend, she liked him heartily. But that was all. -Whether their friendship could ever now deepen into love -seemed doubtful.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XXI' class='c005'>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>During the next few days Sigrid was absorbed in deep calculations. -She found that, exclusive of Swanhild’s small earnings, -which would be absorbed by her education and the few -extras that might be needed, their actual yearly income would -be about £150. Frithiof’s work for Herr Sivertsen, and whatever -they might earn by evening engagements, could be laid -aside toward the fund for paying off the debts, and she thought -that they might perhaps manage to live on the rest. Mrs. -Boniface seemed rather aghast at the notion, and said she -thought it impossible.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t suppose that we shall spend as little on food as -Frithiof did when he was alone,” said Sigrid, “for he nearly -starved himself; and I don’t mean to allow him to try that -again. I see that the great difficulty will be rent, for that seems -so high in London. We were talking about it this morning, -and Frithiof had a bright idea. He says there are some very -cheap flats—workmen’s model lodgings—that might perhaps do -for us; only of course we must make sure that they are quite -healthy before we take Swanhild there.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Clean and healthy they are pretty sure to be,” said Mrs. -Boniface, “but I fancy they have strict rules which might be -rather irksome to you. Still, we can go and make inquiries. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>After all, you would in some ways be better off<a id='t194'></a> than in ordinary -lodgings, where you are at the mercy of the landlady.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>So that afternoon they went to an office where they could get -information as to model dwellings, and found that four rooms -could be obtained in some of them at the rate of seven and sixpence -a week. At this their spirits rose not a little, and they -drove at once to a block which was within fairly easy distance -both of the shop and of the rooms in which Madame Lechertier -gave her afternoon dancing-classes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>To outward view the model dwellings were certainly not attractive. -The great high houses with their uniform ugly color, -the endless rows of windows, all precisely alike; the asphalt -courtyard in the center, though tidy and clean, had a desolate -look. Still, when you realized that one might live in such -a place for so small a sum, and thought of many squalid -streets where the rental would be twice as high, it was more -easy to appreciate these eminently respectable lodgings.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“At present we have no rooms to let, sir,” was the answer of -the superintendent to Frithiof’s inquiry.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Their spirits sank, but rose again when he added, “I think, -though, we are almost certain to have a set vacant before long.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Could we see over them?” they asked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, the set that will most likely be vacant belongs to a -north-country family, and I dare say they would let you look -in. Here, Jessie, ask your mother if she would mind just -showing her rooms, will you?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The child, glancing curiously at the visitors, led the way up -flight after flight of clean stone stairs, past wide-open windows, -through which the September wind blew freshly, then down a -long passage until at length she reached a door, which she -threw open to announce their advent. A pleasant-looking -woman came forward and asked them to step in.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You’ll excuse the place being a bit untidy,” she said. “My -man has just got fresh work, and he has but now told me we -shall have to be flitting in a week’s time. We are going to -Compton Buildings in the Goswell Road.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>After Rowan Tree House, the rooms, of course, felt tiny, -and they were a good deal blocked up with furniture, to say -nothing of five small children who played about in the kitchen. -But the place was capitally planned, every inch was turned to -account, and Sigrid thought they might live there very comfortably. -She talked over sundry details with the present owner.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There’s but one thing, miss, I complain of, and that is that -they don’t put in another cupboard or two,” said the good -<span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>woman. “Give me another cupboard and I should be quite -content. But you see, miss, there’s always a something that -you’d like to alter, go where you will.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I wonder,” said Sigrid, “if we took them, whether I could -pay one of the neighbors to do my share of sweeping and -scrubbing the stairs, and whether I could get them to scrub -out these rooms once a week. You see, I don’t think I could -manage the scrubbing very well.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, miss, there would be no difficulty in that,” said the -woman. “There’s many that would be thankful to earn a little -that way, and the same with laundry work. You wont -find no difficulty in getting that done. There’s Mrs. Hallifield -in the next set; she would be glad enough to do it, I know, -and you couldn’t have a pleasanter neighbor; she’s a bit lonesome, -poor thing, with her husband being so much away. -He’s a tram-car man, he is, and gets terrible long hours week-day -and Sunday alike.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Owing to the good woman’s north-country accent Sigrid had -not been able quite to follow this last speech, but she understood -enough to awaken in her a keen curiosity, and to show -her that their new life might have plenty of human interest in -it. She looked out of one of the windows at the big square of -houses and tried to picture the hundreds of lives which were -being lived in them.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you know, I begin to like this great court-yard,” she -said to Cecil. “At first it looked to me dreary, but now it -looks to me like a great, orderly human hive; there is something -about it that makes one feel industrious.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We will settle down here, then,” said Frithiof, smiling; -“and you shall be queen bee.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You think it would not hurt Swanhild?” asked Sigrid, -turning to Mrs. Boniface. “The place seems to me beautifully -airy.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Indeed,” said Mrs. Boniface, “I think in many ways the -place is most comfortable, and certainly you could not do -better, unless you give a very much higher rent.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But nevertheless she sighed a little, for though she admired -the resolute way in which these two young things set to work -to make the best of their altered life, yet she could not help -feeling that they scarcely realized how long and tedious must -be the process of slowly economizing on a narrow income until -the burden which they had taken on their shoulders could -at length be removed. Even to try to pay off debts which -must be reckoned by thousands out of precarious earnings -<span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>which would be counted by slow and toilsome units, seemed to -her hopeless. Her kind, gentle nature was without that fiber -of dauntless resolution which strengthened the characters of -the two Norwegians. She did not understand that the very -difficulty of the task incited them to make the attempt, nerved -them for the struggle, and stimulated them to that wonderful -energy of patience which overcomes everything.</p> - -<p class='c000'>As for Sigrid, she was now in her element. A true woman, -she delighted in the thought of having rooms of her own to -furnish and arrange. She thought of them by day, she -dreamed of them by night; she pored over store lists and -furniture catalogues, and amused them all by her comments.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Beds are ruinously dear,” she said, after making elaborate -calculations. “We must have three really comfortable ones -since we mean to work hard all day, and they must certainly -be new; the three of them with all their belongings will not -leave very much out of twelve pounds, I fear. But then as to -chairs and tables they might well be second-hand, and we -wont go in for a single luxury; it will look rather bare, but -then there will be less trouble about cleaning and dusting.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You will become such a domestic character that we shant -know you,” said Frithiof, laughing. “What do you think we -can possibly furnish the rooms on?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Wait a moment and I’ll add up my list,” she said cheerfully. -“I never knew before how many things there were in a -house that one can’t do well without. Now that must surely -be all. No, I have forgotten brushes and brooms and such -things. Now then for the adding up. You check me, Cecil, -for fear I make it too little—this is a terrible moment.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Twenty-eight pounds,” exclaimed both girls in a breath.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You can surely never do it on that?” said Cecil.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It seems a great deal to me,” said Sigrid; “still, I have -more than that over from uncle’s fifty-pound check, even after -Doctor Morris is paid. No, on the whole, I think we need -not worry, but may spend as much as that with a clear conscience. -The thing I am anxious about is my weekly bill. -Look here, we must somehow manage to live on one hundred -and forty-five pounds a year, that will leave five pounds in case -of illness or any great need. For charity it leaves nothing, -but we can’t give while we are in debt. Two pounds fifteen -shillings a week for three of us! Why, poor people live on -far less.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But then you are accustomed to such a different way of -living,” said Cecil.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>“That’s true. But still, I think it can somehow be done. -You must still go on with your sixpenny dinners, Frithiof, for -it will fit in better. Then as you and Swanhild will be out all -day and I am out for a great part of the year in the afternoon, -I think our coals will last well, only one fire for part of the day -will surely not ruin us.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Let me see that neatly arranged paper,” said Frithiof. “I -have become rather a connoisseur in the matter of cheap living, -and you had better take me into your counsels.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You don’t know anything about it,” said Sigrid, laughing. -“Yours was not cheap living but cheap starving, which in the -end is a costly affair.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof did not argue the point, having in truth often known -what hunger meant in the old days; but he possessed himself -of the paper and studied it carefully. It contained for him -much more than the bare details, it was full of a great hope, of -an eager expectation, the smallness of each item represented a -stepping-stone in the highway of honor, a daily and hourly -clearing of his father’s name. He looked long at the carefully -considered list.</p> - -<table class='table0' summary=''> - <tr> - <th class='c010'></th> - <th class='c011'>£</th> - <th class='c011'>s.</th> - <th class='c012'>d.</th> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c010'> </td> - <td class='c011'> </td> - <td class='c011'> </td> - <td class='c012'> </td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c010'>Food,</td> - <td class='c011'>1</td> - <td class='c011'>2</td> - <td class='c012'>0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c010'>Rent,</td> - <td class='c011'>0</td> - <td class='c011'>7</td> - <td class='c012'>6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c010'>Fuel and light,</td> - <td class='c011'>0</td> - <td class='c011'>2</td> - <td class='c012'>0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c010'>Laundress,</td> - <td class='c011'>0</td> - <td class='c011'>5</td> - <td class='c012'>0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c010'>Charwoman,</td> - <td class='c011'>0</td> - <td class='c011'>3</td> - <td class='c012'>0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c010'>Clothing,</td> - <td class='c011'>0</td> - <td class='c011'>14</td> - <td class='c012'>0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c010'>Extras,</td> - <td class='c011'>0</td> - <td class='c011'>1</td> - <td class='c012'>6</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c010'> </td> - <td class='c011'><hr /></td> - <td class='c011'><hr /></td> - <td class='c012'><hr /></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c013'>Total,</td> - <td class='c011'>£2</td> - <td class='c011'>15</td> - <td class='c012'>0</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td class='c010'> </td> - <td class='c011'><hr /></td> - <td class='c011'><hr /></td> - <td class='c012'><hr /></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p class='c000'>“With a clever manager it will be quite possible,” he said, -“and you are no novice, Sigrid, but have been keeping house -for the last eleven years.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“After a fashion,” she replied, “but old Gro really managed -things. However, I know that I shall really enjoy trying my -hand at anything so novel, and you will have to come and see -me very often, Cecil, to prevent my turning into a regular -housekeeping drudge.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil laughed and promised, and the two girls talked merrily -together as they stitched away at the household linen, Frithiof -looking up from his newspaper every now and then to listen. -Things had so far brightened with him that he was ready to -take up his life again with patience, but he had his days of depression -<span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>even now, though, for Sigrid’s sake, he tried not to -give way more than could be helped. There was no denying, -however, that Blanche had clouded his life, and though he -never mentioned her name, and as far as possible crowded the -very thought of her out of his mind, resolutely turning to work, -or books, or the lives of others, yet her influence was still -strong with him, and was one of the worst foes he had to fight -against. It was constantly mocking him with the vanity of -human hopes, with the foolishness of his perfect trust which -had been so grossly betrayed; it was an eternal temptation to -think less highly of women, to take refuge in cynical contempt, -and to sink into a hard, joyless skepticism.</p> - -<p class='c000'>On the other hand, Sigrid, as his sister, and Cecil, as a perfectly -frank and outspoken friend, were no small help to him -in the battle. They could not altogether enter into his -thoughts or wholly understand the loneliness and bitterness of -his life, any more than he could enter into their difficulties, -for, even when surrounded by those we love, it is almost always -true that</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Our hermit spirits dwell and range apart.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>But they made life a very different thing to him and gave him -courage to go on, for they were a continual protest against that -lowered side of womanhood that Blanche had revealed to him. -One woman having done her best to ruin the health alike of -his body and his soul, it remained for these two to counteract -her bad influence, and to do for him all that can be done by -sisterly love and pure unselfish friendship.</p> - -<p class='c000'>If there is one thing more striking to an observer of life than -any other it is the strange law of compensation, and its wholly -unexpected working. We see people whose lives are smooth -and easy rendered miserable by some very trifling cause. And, -again, we see people whose griefs and wrongs are heartrending, -and behold in spite of their sorrows they can take pleasure in -some very slight amusement, which seems to break into their -darkened lives with a welcome brightness enhanced by contrast. -It was thus with Frithiof. He entered, as men seldom -trouble themselves to enter, into all the minutiæ of the furnishing, -spent hours in Roy’s workshop busy at the carpenter’s -bench over such things as could be made or mended, and enjoyed -heartily the planning and arranging which a year ago he -would have voted an intolerable bore.</p> - -<p class='c000'>At length the day came when they were to leave Rowan -Tree House. Every one was sorry to lose them, and they felt -<span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>going very much, for it was impossible to express how much -those restful weeks had done for them both. They each -tried to say something of the sort to Mr. and Mrs. Boniface, -but not very successfully, for Sigrid broke down and cried, and -Frithiof felt that to put very deep gratitude into words is a -task which might well baffle the readiest speaker. However, -there was little need for speech on either side.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And when you want change or rest,” said Mrs. Boniface, -shaking his hand warmly, “you have only got to lock up your -rooms and come down here to us. There will always be a -welcome ready for the three of you. Don’t forget that.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Let it be your second home,” said Mr. Boniface.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil, who was the one to feel most, said least. She merely -shook hands with him, made some trifling remark about the -time of Swanhild’s train, and wished him good-by; then, with -a sore heart, watched the brother and sister as they stepped -into the carriage and drove away.</p> - -<p class='c000'>That chapter of her life was over, and she was quite well -aware that the next chapter would seem terribly dull and -insipid. For a moment the thought alarmed her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What have I been doing,” she said to herself, “to let this -love get so great a hold on me? Why is it that no other man -in the world seems to me worth a thought, even though he -may be better, and may live a nobler life than Frithiof?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She could not honestly blame herself, for it seemed to her -that this strange love had, as the poet says, “Slid into her soul -like light.” Unconsciously it had begun at their very first -meeting on the steamer at Bergen; it had caused that vague -trouble and uneasiness which had seized her at Balholm, -and had sprung into conscious existence when Frithiof had -come to them in England, poor, heartbroken, and despairing. -The faithlessness of another woman had revealed to her the -passionate devotion which surged in her own heart, and during -these weeks of close companionship her love had deepened -inexpressibly. She faced these facts honestly, with what Mrs. -Horner would have termed “an entire absence of maidenly -propriety.” For luckily Cecil was not in the habit of marshalling -her thoughts into the prim routine prescribed by the -world in general, she had deeper principles to fall back upon -than the conventionalities of such women as Mrs. Horner, and -she did not think it well either willfully to blind herself to the -truth, or to cheat her heart into believing a lie. Quite quietly -she admitted to herself that she loved Frithiof, with a pain -which it was impossible to ignore, she allowed that he did not -<span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>love her, and that it was quite possible—nay, highly probable—that -she might never be fit to be more to him than a friend.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Here were the true facts, and she must make the best she -could of them. The thought somehow braced her up. Was -“the best” to sit there in her room sobbing as if her heart -would break? How could her tears serve Frithiof? How -could they do anything but weaken her own character and -unfit her for work? They did not even relieve her, for such -pain is to be relieved, not by tears, but by active life. No, she -must just go on living and making the most of what had been -given her, leaving the rest</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in4'>“In His high hand</div> - <div class='line'>Who doth hearts like streams command.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>For her faith was no vague shadow, but a most practical reality, -and in all her pain she was certain that somehow this love of -hers was to be of use, as all real love is bound to be. She stood -for some minutes at the open window; a bird was perched on -a tree close by, and she watched it and noticed how, when suddenly -it flew away, the branch quivered and trembled.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is after all only natural to feel this going away,” she -reflected. “Like the tree, I shall soon grow steady again.” -And then she heard Lance’s voice calling her, and, going to -the nursery, found a childish dispute in need of settling, and -tiny arms to cling about her, and soft kisses to comfort her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Meanwhile, Frithiof and Sigrid had reached the model -lodgings, and, key in hand, were toiling up the long flights of -stone stairs. All had been arranged on the previous day, and -now, as they unlocked their door, the moment seemed to them -a grave one, for they were about to begin a new and unknown -life. Sigrid’s heart beat quickly as they entered the little sitting-room. -The door opened straight into it, which was a -drawback, but Mrs. Boniface’s present of a fourfold Japanese -screen gave warmth and privacy, and picturesqueness, by shutting -off that corner from view; and, in spite of extreme economy -in furnishing, the place looked very pretty. A cheerful crimson -carpet covered the floor, the buff-colored walls were bare -indeed, for there was a rule against knocking in nails, but the -picture of Bergen stood on the mantel-piece between the photographs -of their father and mother, serving as a continual -remembrance of home and of a countryman’s kindness. Facing -the fire was a cottage piano lent by Mr. Boniface for as long as -they liked to keep it, and on the open shelves above a corner -<span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>cupboard were ranged the blue willow-pattern cups and saucers -which Sigrid had delighted in buying.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“They were much too effective to be banished to the kitchen, -were they not?” she said. “I am sure they are far prettier -than a great deal of the rare old china I have seen put up in -drawing-rooms.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How about the fire?” said Frithiof. “Shall I light it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes; do. We must have a little one to boil the kettle, and -Swanhild is sure to come in cold after that long journey. I’ll -just put these flowers into Cecil’s little vases. How lovely they -are! Do you know, Frithiof, I think our new life is going to -be like the smell of these chrysanthemums—healthy and good, -and a sort of bitter-sweet.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I never knew they had any smell,” he said, still intent on -his fire.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Live and learn,” said Sigrid, laughingly holding out to him -the basket of beautiful flowers—red, white, crimson, yellow, -russet, and in every variety.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He owned that she was right. And just as with the scent of -violets there always rose before him the picture of the crowded -church, and of Blanche in her bridal dress, so ever after the -scent of chrysanthemums brought back to him the bright little -room and the flickering light of the newly kindled fire, and -Sigrid’s golden hair and sweet face. So that, in truth, these -flowers were to him a sort of tonic, as she had said, “Healthy -and good.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I should like to come to King’s Cross too,” said Sigrid. -“But perhaps it is better that I should stay here and get things -quite ready. I hope Swanhild will turn up all right. She -seems such a little thing to travel all that way alone.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>When he had set off, she began with great satisfaction to lay -the table for tea; the white cloth was certainly coarse; but she -had bought it and hemmed it, and declared that fine damask -would not have suited the willow-pattern plates nearly so well. -Then, after a struggle, the tin of pressed beef was opened, and -the loaf and butter and the vases of chrysanthemums put in -their places, and the toast made and standing before the fire to -keep hot. After that she kept putting a touch here and a -touch there to one thing and another, and then standing back -to see how it looked, much as an artist does when finishing a -picture. How would it strike Swanhild? was the thought -which was always with her. She put everything tidy in the -bare little kitchen, where, in truth, there was not one unnecessary -piece of furniture. She took some of Frithiof’s things out -<span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>of his portmanteau, and made his narrow little bedroom look -more habitable; and she lingered long in the room with the -two beds side by side, tidying and arranging busily, but running -back into the sitting-room every few minutes to see that -all was well there.</p> - -<p class='c000'>At last she heard the door-handle turned, and Frithiof’s voice.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You’ll find her quite a domesticated character,” he was -saying; and in another minute Swanhild was in her arms, none -the worse for her lonely journey, but very glad to feel her cares -at an end.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, Sigrid!” she cried, with childlike glee; “what a dear, -funny little room! And how cosy you have made it! Why, -there’s the picture of Bergen! and oh, what a pretty-looking -tea-table! I’m dreadfully hungry, Sigrid. I was afraid to get -out of the train for fear it should go on. They seem to go so -dreadfully fast here, everything is in a bustle.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You poor child, you must be starving!” cried Sigrid. -“Come and take your things off quickly. She really looks -quite thin and pale, does she not, Frithiof?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He glanced at the fair, merry little face, smiling at him from -under its fringe of golden hair.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She doesn’t feel so very bony,” he said, laughing.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, and I did eat something,” explained Swanhild. -“There was an old lady who gave me two sandwiches, but -they were so dreadfully full of fat. I do really think there -ought to be a law against putting fat in sandwiches so that you -bite a whole mouthful of it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>They all laugh, and Frithiof, who was unstrapping the box -which he had carried up, looked so cheerful and bright, that -Sigrid began to think Swanhild might prove a very valuable -little companion.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What do you think of your new bedroom?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It’s lovely!” cried Swanhild. “What a funny, round bath, -and such a tiny tin washing-stand, just like the one in the old -doll’s house on three legs. And oh, Sigrid, auntie has sent us -three lovely eider-down quilts as a Christmas present, only she -thought I might as well bring them now.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was a very merry meal, that first tea in the model lodgings. -Swanhild had so much to tell them and so much to hear, and -they lingered at the table with a pleasant consciousness that -actual work did not begin till the following day.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There’s one thing which we had better make up our minds -to at once,” said Sigrid, when at length they rose. “Since we -have got to wait on ourselves, we may as well try to enjoy it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span>and get what fun we can out of it. Come, Swanhild, I will wash -the tea-things and you shall dry them.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“As for me,” said Frithiof, suddenly appearing at the -kitchen door in his shirt sleeves, “I am shoe-black to the -establishment.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You! oh, Frithiof!” cried Swanhild, startled into gravity. -There was something incongruous in the idea of her big brother -turning to this sort of work.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I assure you it is in the bond,” he said, smiling. “Sigrid -is cook and housekeeper; you are the lady-help; and I am -the man for the coals, knives, and boots. Every respectable -household has a man for that part of the work, you -know.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, yes,” she hesitated; “but you—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She clearly doesn’t think me competent,” he said, laughingly -threatening her with his brush.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Order! order! you two, or there will be teacups broken,” -said Sigrid, laughing. “I believe he will do the boots quite -scientifically, for he has really studied the subject. There, -put the china in the sitting-room, Swanhild, on the corner shelves, -and then we will come and unpack.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>By nine o’clock everything was arranged, and they came back -to the sitting-room, where Frithiof had lighted the pretty little -lamp, and was writing to Herr Sivertsen to say he would be -glad of more work.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Come,” said Sigrid, “the evening wont be complete without -some music, and I am dying to try that piano. What shall -be the first thing we play in our new home, Swanhild?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“‘For Norge,’” said the little girl promptly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you know we had quite a discussion about that at -Rowan Tree House the other night,” said Sigrid. “They -were all under the impression that it was an English air, and -only knew it as a glee called “The Hardy Norseman.” Mr. -Boniface calls Frithiof his Hardy Norseman because he got -well so quickly.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Come and sing, Frithiof, do come,” pleaded Swanhild, -slipping her hand caressingly into his and drawing him toward -the piano. And willingly enough he consented, and in their -new home in this foreign land they sang together the stirring -national song—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“To Norway, mother of the brave,</div> - <div class='line'>We crown the cup of pleasure,</div> - <div class='line'>And dream our freedom come again</div> - <div class='line'>And grasp the vanished treasure.</div> - <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>When once the mighty task’s begun,</div> - <div class='line'>The glorious race is swift to run;</div> - <div class='line'>To Norway, mother of the brave,</div> - <div class='line'>We crown the cup of pleasure.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>      *      *      *      *      *</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Then drink to Norway’s hills sublime,</div> - <div class='line'>Rocks, snows, and glens profound;</div> - <div class='line'>‘Success!’ her thousand echoes cry,</div> - <div class='line'>And thank us with the sound.</div> - <div class='line'>Old Dovre mingles with our glee,</div> - <div class='line'>And joins our shouts with three times three.</div> - <div class='line'>Then drink to Norway’s hills sublime.</div> - <div class='line'>Rocks, snows, and glens profound.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XXII' class='c005'>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>“My dear, she is charming, your little Swanhild! She is a -born dancer and catches up everything with the greatest ease,” -said Madame Lechertier one autumn afternoon, when Sigrid -at the usual time entered the big, bare room where the classes -were held. She was dressed at madame’s request in her pretty -peasant costume, and Swanhild, also, had for the first time -donned hers, which, unlike Sigrid’s, was made with the shortest -of skirts, and, as Madame Lechertier said, would prove an -admirable dress for a pupil teacher.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You think she will really be of use to you, Madame?” -asked Sigrid, glancing to the far end of the big room, where -the child was, for her own amusement, practicing a step which -she had just learnt. “If she is no good we should not of -course like her to take any money.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, yes,” said Madame Lechertier, patting her on the -shoulder caressingly. “You are independent and proud, I -know it well enough. But I assure you, Swanhild will be a -first-rate little teacher, and I am delighted to have her. There -is no longer any need for her to come to me every morning, -for I have taught her all that she will at present need, and no -doubt you are in a hurry for her to go on with her ordinary -schooling.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have arranged for her to go to a high school, in the -mornings, after Christmas,” said Sigrid, “and she must, till -then, work well at her English or she will not take a good -place. It will be a very busy life for her, but then we are all -of us strong and able to get through a good deal.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And her work with me is purely physical and will not overtask -her,” said Madame, glancing with approving eyes at the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>pretty little figure at the end of the room. “Dear little soul! -she has the most perfect manners I ever saw in a child! Her -charm to me is that she is so bright and unaffected. What is -it, I wonder, that makes you Norwegians so spontaneous? so -perfectly simple and courteous?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“In England,” said Sigrid, “people seem to me to have two -sides, a rough home side, and a polite society side. The Bonifaces -reverse the order and keep their beautiful side for home -and a rather shy side for society, but still they, like all the -English people I have met, have distinctly two manners. In -Norway there is nothing of that. I think perhaps we think -less about the impression we are making; and I think Norwegians -more naturally respect each other.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She was quite right; it was this beautiful respect, this reverence -for the rights and liberties of each other, that made the -little home in the model lodgings so happy; while her own -sunny brightness and sweetness of temper made the atmosphere -wholesome. Frithiof, once more amid congenial surroundings, -seemed to regain his native courtesy, and though -Mr. Horner still disliked him, most of those with whom he -daily came in contact learnt at any rate to respect him, and -readily forgave him his past pride and haughtiness when they -learnt how ill he had been and saw what a change complete -recovery had wrought in him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Swanhild prospered well on that first Saturday afternoon, -and Madame Lechertier was quite satisfied with her little idea -as to the Norwegian costumes; the pretty foreigner at the -piano, and the dainty little Norse girl who danced so bewitchingly, -caused quite a sensation in the class, and the two sisters -went home in high spirits, delighted to have pleased their kind-hearted -employer. They had only just returned and taken off -their walking things when there came a loud knock at the -door. Swanhild still in her Hardanger dress ran to see what -was wanted, and could hardly help laughing at the funny-looking -old man who inquired whether Frithiof were in.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Still out, you say,” he panted; “very provoking. I specially -wanted to see him on a matter of urgency.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Will you not come in and wait?” said the child. “Frithiof -will soon be home.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Thank you,” said old Herr Sivertsen. “These stairs are -terrible work. I shall be glad not to have to climb them -again. But houses are all alike in London—all alike! -Story after story, till they’re no better than the Tower of -Babel.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>Sigrid came forward with her pretty, bright greeting and -made the old man sit down by the fire.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Frithiof has gone for a walk with a friend of his,” she -explained. “But he will be home in a few minutes. I -always persuade him to take a good walk on Saturday if -possible.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“In consequence of which he doesn’t get through half as -much work for me,” said Herr Sivertsen. “However, you are -quite right. He needed more exercise. Is he quite well -again?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Quite well, thank you; though I suppose he will never be -so strong as he once was,” she said a little sadly. “You see, -overwork and trouble and poor living must in the long run -injure even a strong man.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There are no strong men nowadays, it seems to me,” said -the old author gruffly. “They all knock up sooner or later—a -degenerate race—a worthless generation.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, the doctor says he must have had a very fine constitution -to have recovered so fast,” said Sigrid. “Still, I feel -rather afraid sometimes of his doing too much again. Were -you going to suggest some more work for him?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, I was; but perhaps it is work in which you could -help him,” said Herr Sivertsen, and he explained to her his -project.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If only I could make time for it,” she cried. “But you -see we all have very busy lives. I have to see to the house -almost entirely, and there is always either mending or making -in hand. And Swanhild and I are out every afternoon at -Madame Lechertier’s academy. By the by, that is why we -have on these peasant costumes, which must have surprised -you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is a pretty dress, and takes me back to my old days at -home,” said Herr Sivertsen. “As to the work, do what you -can of it, there is no immediate hurry. Here comes your -brother!” and the old man at once button-holed Frithiof, while -Roy, who had returned with him, was ready enough to talk -with Sigrid as she stood by the fire making toast, little Swanhild -in the mean time setting the table for afternoon tea, lighting -the lamp, and drawing the curtains.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Herr Sivertsen found himself drinking tea before he knew -what he was about, and the novelty of the little household quite -shook him out of his gruff surliness. Strange bygone memories -came floating back to him as he listened to the two girls’ -merry talk, watched them as suddenly they broke into an impromptu -<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>dance, and begged them to sing to him the old tunes -which for so many years he had not heard.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am sorry to say,” observed Sigrid, laughing, “that our -next-door neighbor, Mrs. Hallifield, tells me the general belief -in the house is that we belong to the Christy Minstrels. English -people don’t seem to understand that one can dance and -sing at home for pure pleasure and not professionally.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>After that the old author often paid them a visit, and they -learned to like him very much and to enjoy his tirades against -the degenerate modern race. And thus with hard work, enlivened -now and then by a visit to Rowan Tree House, or by -a call from the Bonifaces, the winter slipped by, and the trees -grew green once more, and they were obliged to own that even -this smoky London had a beauty all its own.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Did you ever see anything so lovely as all this pink may -and yellow laburnum?” cried Sigrid, as one spring evening -she and Frithiof walked westward to fulfill one of the evening -engagements to which they had now become pretty well accustomed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No; we had nothing equal to this at Bergen,” he admitted, -and in very good spirits they walked on, past the great wealthy -houses; he with his violin-case, and she with a big roll of -music, well content with the success they had worked hard to -win, and not at all disposed to envy the West End people. It -was indeed a great treat to Sigrid to have a glimpse of so different -a life. She had toiled so often up the long stone stairs, -that to be shown up a wide, carpeted staircase, into which one’s -feet seemed to sink as into moss, was a delightful change, and -snugly ensconced in her little corner behind the piano, she -liked to watch the prettily decorated rooms and the arrival of -the gayly dressed people. Frithiof, who had at first greatly -disliked this sort of work, had become entirely accustomed to -it: it no longer hurt his pride, for Sigrid had nearly succeeded -in converting him to her doctrine, that a noble motive ennobles -any work; and if ever things annoyed him or chafed his independence, -he thought of the debts at Bergen, and was once -more ready to endure anything. This evening he happened to -be particularly cheerful; things had gone well lately at the -shop; his health was increasing every day, and the home atmosphere -had done a great deal to banish the haunting thoughts -of the past which in solitude had so preyed on his mind. -They discussed the people in Norwegian during the intervals, -and in a quiet way were contriving to get a good deal of fun -out of the evening, when suddenly their peace was invaded by -<span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>the unexpected sight of the very face which Frithiof had so -strenuously tried to exile from his thoughts. They had just -finished a waltz. Sigrid looked up from her music and saw, -only a few yards distant from her, the pretty willowy figure, -the glowing face and dark eyes and siren-like smile of Lady -Romiaux. For a moment her heart seemed to stop beating, -then with a wild hope that possibly Frithiof might not have -noticed her, she turned to him with intense anxiety. But his -profile looked as though it were carved in white stone, and she -saw only too plainly that the hope was utterly vain.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Frithiof,” she said in Norwegian, “you are faint. Go out -into the cool and get some water before the next dance.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He seemed to hear her voice, but not to take in her words; -there was a dazed look in his face, and such despair in his eyes -that her heart failed her. All the terrible dread for his health -again returned to her. It seemed as if nothing could free him -from the fatal influence which Blanche had gained over him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>How she longed to get up and rush from the house! How -she loathed that woman who stood flirting with the empty-headed -man standing at her side! If it had not been for her -perfidy how different all might now be!</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I can’t help hating her!” thought poor Sigrid. “She has -ruined Frithiof’s life, and now in one moment has undone the -work of months. She brought about my father’s failure; if -she had been true we should not now be toiling to pay off these -terrible debts—hundreds of homes in Bergen would have been -saved from a cruel loss—and he—my father—he might have -been alive and well! How can I help hating her?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>At that moment Blanche happened to catch sight of them. -The color deepened in her cheeks.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Have they come to that?” she thought. “Oh, poor things! -How sorry I am for them! Papa told me Herr Falck had -failed; but to have sunk so low! Well, since they lost all -their money it was a mercy that all was over between us. And -yet, if I had been true to him—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her companion wondered what made her so silent all at -once. But in truth poor Blanche might well be silent, for into -her mind there flashed a dreadful vision of past sins; standing -there in the ball-room in her gay satin dress and glittering diamonds, -there had come to her, almost for the first time, a sense -of responsibility for the evil she had wrought. It was not -Frithiof’s life alone that she had rendered miserable. She had -sinned far more deeply against her husband, and though in a -sort of bravado she tried to persuade herself that she cared for -<span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>nothing, and accepted the invitations sent her by the people -who would still receive her at their houses, she was all the time -most wretched. So strangely had good and evil tendencies -been mingled in her nature that she caught herself wondering -sometimes whether she really was one woman; she had her -refined side and her vulgar side; she could be one day tender-hearted -and penitent, and the next day a hard woman of the -world; she could at one time be the Blanche of that light-hearted -Norwegian holiday, and at another the Lady Romiaux -of notoriety.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How extraordinary that I should chance to meet my Viking -here!” she thought to herself. “How very much older -he looks! How very much his face has altered! One would -have thought that to come down in the world would have cowed -him a little; but it seems somehow to have given him dignity. -I positively feel afraid of him. I, who could once turn him -round my finger—I, for whom he would have died! How -ridiculous of me to be afraid! After all, I could soon get my -old power over him if I chose to try. I will go and speak to -them; it would be rude not to notice them in their new position, -poor things.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>With a word of explanation to her partner she hastily crossed -over to the piano. But when she met Frithiof’s eyes her heart -began to beat painfully, and once more the feeling of fear returned -to her. He looked very grave, very sad, very determined. -The greeting which she had intended to speak died -away on her lips; instead, she said, rather falteringly:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Will you tell me the name of the last waltz?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He bowed, and began to turn over the pile of music to find -the piece.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Frithiof,” she whispered, “have you forgotten me? Have -you nothing to say to me?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But he made as though he did not hear her, gravely handed -her the music, then, turning away, took up his violin and signed -to Sigrid to begin the next dance.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Poor Blanche was eagerly claimed by her next partner, and -with burning cheeks and eyes bright with unshed tears, was -whirled off though her feet seemed weighted and almost refused -to keep time with that violin whose tones seemed to tear her -heart. “I have no longer any power over him,” she thought. -“I have so shocked and disgusted him that he will not even -recognize me—will not answer me when I speak to him! How -much nobler he is than these little toads with whom I have to -dance, these wretches who flatter me, yet all the time despise -<span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>me in their hearts! Oh, what a fool I have been to throw away -a heart like that, to be dazzled by a mere name, and, worst of -all, to lose not only his love but his respect! I shall see his -face in a moment as we go past that corner. There he is! -How sad and stern he looks, and how resolutely he goes on -playing! I shall hate this tune all my life long. I have nothing -left but the power to give him pain—I who long to help -him, who am tortured by this regret!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>All this time she was answering the foolish words of her -partner at random. And the evening wore on, and she laughed -mechanically and talked by rote, and danced, oh, how wearily! -thinking often of a description of the Inferno she had lately -seen in one of the magazines, in which the people were obliged -to go on pretending to amuse themselves, and dancing, as she -now danced, when they only longed to lie down and die.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But, after all, I can stop,” she reflected. “I am not in the -Inferno yet—at least I suppose not, though I doubt if it can be -much worse than this. How pretty and innocent that little -fair-haired girl looks—white net and lilies of the valley; I -should think it must be her first dance. Will she ever grow -like me, I wonder? Perhaps some one will say to her, ‘That -is the celebrated Lady Romiaux.’ Perhaps she will read the -newspapers when the case comes on, as it must come soon. -They may do her terrible harm. Oh, if only I could undo the -past! I never thought of all this at the time. I never thought -till now of any one but myself.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>That thought of the possibility of stopping the dismal mockery -of enjoyment came to her again, and she eagerly seized the -first opportunity of departure; but when once the strain of the -excitement was over her strength all at once evaporated. Feeling -sick and faint, she lay back in a cushioned chair in the -cloak-room; her gold plush mantle and the lace mantilla which -she wore on her head made her look ghastly pale, and the maid -came up to her with anxious inquiries.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is nothing but neuralgia,” she replied wearily. “Let -them call my carriage.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And then came a confused sound of wheels outside in the -street and shouts echoing through the night, while from above -came the sound of the dancers, and that resolute, indefatigable -violin still going on with the monotonous air of “Sir Roger de -Coverley,” as though it were played by a machine rather than -by a man with a weary head and a heavy heart. Blanche -wandered back to recollections of Balholm; she saw that merry -throng in the inn parlor, she saw Ole Kvikne with his kindly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>smile, and Herr Falck with his look of content, and she flew -down the long lines of merry dancers once more to meet -Frithiof—the boyish, happy-looking Frithiof with whom she -had danced “Sir Roger” two years ago.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Lady Romiaux’s carriage is at the door,” said a voice, and -she hastily got up, made her way through the brightly lighted -hall, and with a sense of relief stepped into her brougham. -Still the violin played on, its gay tune ringing out with that -strange sadness which dance music at a distance often suggests. -Blanche could bear it no longer; she drew up the carriage -window, sank back into the corner, and broke into a passionate -fit of weeping.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was quite possible for Lady Romiaux to go, but the dance -was not yet over, and Frithiof and Sigrid had, of course, to -stay to the bitter end. Sigrid, tired as she was herself, had -hardly a thought for anything except her twin. As that long, -long evening wore on it seemed to her that if possible she -loved him better than she had ever done before; his quiet -endurance appealed to her very strongly, but for his sake she -eagerly wished for the end, for she saw by the look of his forehead -that one of his worst headaches had come on.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And at length the programme had been toiled through. She -hurried downstairs to put on her cloak and hat, rejoining -Frithiof in a few minutes in the crowded hall, where he stood -looking, to her fond fancy, a thousand times nobler and grander -than any of the other men about him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He gave a sigh of relief as they passed from the heated -atmosphere of the house into the cool darkness without. The -stars were still visible, but faint tokens of the coming dawn -were already to be seen in the eastern sky. The stillness was -delightful after the noise of the music and dancing, which had -so jarred upon him; but he realized now how great the strain -had been, and even out here in the quiet night it seemed to -him that shadowy figures were being whirled past him, and that -Blanche’s eyes were still seeking him out.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are very tired?” asked Sigrid, slipping her arm into his.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, tired to death,” he said. “It is humiliating for a -fellow to be knocked up by so little.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I do not call it ‘little,’” she said eagerly. “You know quite -well it was neither the heat nor the work which tired you. Oh, -Frithiof, how could that woman dare to speak to you!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Hush!” he said sadly. “Talking only makes it worse. I -wish you would drive the thought out of my head with something -else. Say me some poetry—anything.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>“I hardly know what I can say unless it is an old poem that -Cecil gave me when we were at Rowan Tree House, but I don’t -think it is in your style quite.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Anything will do,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, you shall have it then; it is an old fourteenth-century -hymn.” And in her clear voice she repeated the -following lines as they walked home through the deserted -streets:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Fighting the battle of life,</div> - <div class='line in2'>With a weary heart and head;</div> - <div class='line'>For in the midst of the strife</div> - <div class='line in2'>The banners of joy are fled!</div> - <div class='line'>Fled, and gone out of sight,</div> - <div class='line in2'>When I thought they were so near,</div> - <div class='line'>And the murmur of hope this night</div> - <div class='line in2'>Is dying away on my ear.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Fighting alone to-night,</div> - <div class='line in2'>With not even a stander-by</div> - <div class='line'>To cheer me on in the fight,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Or to hear me when I cry;</div> - <div class='line'>Only the Lord can hear,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Only the Lord can see,</div> - <div class='line'>The struggle within, how dark and drear,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Though quiet the outside be.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Lord, I would fain be still</div> - <div class='line in2'>And quiet behind my shield,</div> - <div class='line'>But make me to know Thy will,</div> - <div class='line in2'>For fear I should ever yield;</div> - <div class='line'>Even as now my hands,</div> - <div class='line in2'>So doth my folded will,</div> - <div class='line'>Lie waiting Thy commands,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Without one anxious thrill.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>But as with sudden pain</div> - <div class='line in2'>My hands unfold and clasp,</div> - <div class='line'>So doth my will stand up again</div> - <div class='line in2'>And take its old firm grasp;</div> - <div class='line'>Nothing but perfect trust,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And love of Thy perfect will,</div> - <div class='line'>Can raise me out of the dust,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And bid my fears be still.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>Oh, Lord, Thou hidest Thy face,</div> - <div class='line in2'>And the battle-clouds prevail;</div> - <div class='line'>Oh, grant me Thy sweet grace,</div> - <div class='line in2'>That I may not utterly fail.</div> - <div class='line'>Fighting alone to-night,</div> - <div class='line in2'>With what a beating heart!</div> - <div class='line'>Lord Jesus in the fight,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Oh! stand not Thou apart!”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>He made no comment at all when she had ended the poem, -but in truth it had filled his mind with other thoughts. And -the dim, dreary streets through which they walked, and the -gradually increasing light in the east, seemed like a picture of -his own life, for there dawned for him in his sadness a clearer -revelation of the Unseen than had ever before been granted -him.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XXIII' class='c005'>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>It seemed to Sigrid that she had hardly gone to bed before -it was time to get up again; she sleepily wished that Londoners -would give dances at more reasonable hours, then, remembering -all that had happened, she forgot her own weariness and -turned with an eager question to Swanhild. It was the little -sister’s daily duty to go in and wake Frithiof up, a task of some -difficulty, for either his bad habit of working at night during -his lonely year in town, or else his illness, had left him with a -tendency to be wide awake between twelve and two and sound -asleep between six and seven.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You haven’t called him yet, have you?” asked Sigrid, rubbing -her eyes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, but it is quite time,” said Swanhild, shutting up her -atlas and rearing up in the bed where she had been luxuriously -learning geography.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, leave him a little longer,” said Sigrid. “We were so -late last night, and his head was so bad, that I don’t suppose -he has had much sleep. And, Swanhild, whatever you do, -don’t speak of the dance to him or ask him any questions. As -ill luck would have it Lady Romiaux was there.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Now Swanhild was a very imaginative child, and she was -just at the age when girls form extravagant adorations for -women. At Balholm she had worshiped Blanche; even when -told afterward how badly Frithiof had been treated her love -had not faltered, she had invented every possible excuse for -her idol, and though never able to speak of her, still cherished -a little hoard of souvenirs of Balholm. There is something -laughable and yet touching in these girlish adorations, and as -safeguards against premature thoughts of real love they are -certainly worthy of all encouragement. Men were at present -nothing at all to her but a set of big brothers, who did well -enough as playfellows. All the romance of her nature was -spent on an ideal Blanche—how unlike the real Lady Romiaux -innocent Swanhild never guessed. While the world talked -<span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>hard things, this little Norwegian girl was secretly kissing a fir-cone, -which Blanche had once picked up on their way to the -priest’s <em>saeter</em>, or furtively unwrapping a withered rose which -had been fastened in Blanche’s hair at the merry dance on that -Saturday night. Her heart beat so fast that she felt almost -choked when Sigrid suddenly mentioned Lady Romiaux’s name.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How was she looking?” she asked, turning away her -blushing face with the most comical parody of a woman’s innate -tendency to hide her love.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, she was looking just as usual, as pretty, and as siren-like -as ever, wretched woman!” Then, remembering that -Swanhild was too young to hear all the truth, she suddenly -drew up. “But there, don’t speak of her any more. I never -wish to hear her name again.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Poor Swanhild sighed; she thought Sigrid very hard and -unforgiving, and this made her cling all the more to her beloved -ideal; it was true she had been faithless to Frithiof, but -no doubt she was very sorry by this time, and as the child -knelt down to say her morning prayers she paused long over -the petition for “Blanche,” which for all this time had never -been omitted once.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof came to breakfast only a few minutes before the -time when he had to start for business. His eyes looked very -heavy, and his face had the pale, set look which Sigrid had -learnt to interpret only too well. She knew that while they -had been sleeping he had been awake, struggling with those -old memories which at times would return to him; he had conquered, -but the conquest had left him weary, and exhausted -and depressed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If only she had been true to him!” thought Swanhild. -“Poor Blanche! if he looked at all like this last night how terribly -sorry she must have felt.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>After all, the child with her warm-hearted forgiveness, and -her scanty knowledge of facts, was perhaps a good deal nearer -the truth than Sigrid. Certainly Blanche was not the ideal of -her dreams, but she was very far from being the hopelessly depraved -character that Sigrid deemed her; she was a woman -who had sinned very deeply, but she was not utterly devoid of -heart, and there were gleams of good in her to which the Norwegian -girl, in her hot indignation, was altogether blind. -Sigrid was not faultless, and as with Frithiof, so there lingered -too with her a touch of the fierce, unforgiving spirit which had -governed their Viking ancestors.</p> - -<p class='c000'>More than once that morning as she moved about her household -<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>tasks she said under her breath—“I wish that woman -were dead!—I wish she were dead!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You don’t look well this morning, Mr. Falck,” said the -foreman, a cheerful, bright-eyed, good-hearted old man, who -had managed to bring up a large family on his salary, and to -whom Frithiof had often applied for advice on the subject of -domestic economy. The two liked each other now cordially, -and worked well together, Foster having altogether lost the -slight prejudice he had at first felt against the foreigner.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We were up late last night,” said Frithiof, by way of explanation. -But the old man was shrewd and quick-sighted, and -happening later on to be in Mr. Boniface’s private room, he -seized the opportunity to remark:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We shall have Mr. Falck knocking up again, sir, if I’m not -mistaken: he is looking very ill to-day.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I’m sorry to hear that,” said Mr. Boniface. “You were -quite right to tell me, Foster. We will see what can be done.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And the foreman knew that there was no favoritism in this -speech, for Mr. Boniface considered the health of his employees -as a matter of the very highest importance, and being a -Christian first and a tradesman afterward, did not consider -money-making to be the great object of life. Many a time -good old Foster himself had been sent down for a few days at -the seaside with his family, and it was perhaps a vivid remembrance -of the delights of West Codrington that made him add -as he left the room:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He looks to me, sir, as if he needed bracing up.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mr. Boniface was much of the same opinion when he noticed -Frithiof later on in the day. A thoroughly good salesman the -Norwegian had always been—clear-headed, courteous, and accurate; -but now the look of effort which he had borne for -some time before his illness was clearly visible, and Mr. Boniface -seized the first chance he could get of speaking to him -alone. About five o’clock there came a lull in the tide of customers; -Darnell, the man at the opposite counter, had gone to -tea, and Frithiof had gone back to his desk to enter some songs -in the order-list.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Frithiof,” said Mr. Boniface, coming over to him and -dropping the somewhat more formal style of address which he -generally used toward him during business hours, “you have -got one of your bad headaches.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” replied the Norwegian candidly, “but it is not a disabling -one. I shall get through all right.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What plans have you made for your Whitsuntide holiday?”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>“I don’t think we had made any plan at all.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then I want you all to come away with us for a few days,” -said the shop-owner. “You look to me as if you wanted rest. -Come to us for a week; I will arrange for your absence.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are very good,” said Frithiof warmly. “But indeed -I would rather only take the general holiday of Saturday to -Tuesday. I am not in the least ill, and would rather not take -extra days when there is no need.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Independent as ever,” said Mr. Boniface, with a smile. -“Well, it must be as you like. We will see what the three -days will do for you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Where and how this holiday was to be spent only Mr. and -Mrs. Boniface knew, and Cecil and Roy were as much astonished -as any one when, at two o’clock on Saturday afternoon, -a coach and four stopped at the gate of Rowan Tree House.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What! are we to drive there?” asked Cecil. “Oh, father, -how delightful! Will it be very far?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, a long drive; so keep out plenty of wraps, in case the -evening is chilly. We can tuck away the children inside if they -get tired. Now, are we all ready? Then we will drive to the -model lodgings.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>So off they started, a very merry party, but still merrier when -the three Norwegians had joined them, the girls, as usual, -dressed in black, for economy’s sake, but wearing very dainty -little white sailor hats, which Sigrid had sat up on the previous -night to trim. She enjoyed her new hat amazingly; she enjoyed -locking up the lodgings and handing the key to the caretaker; -she enjoyed the delicious prospect of three days’ immunity -from cooking, and cleaning, and anxious planning of -food and money; and she enjoyed Roy’s presence, with the -frank, free happiness of a girl who is as yet quite heart-whole.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I feel like the ‘linen-draper bold,’ in the ballad,” said Mr. -Boniface, with his hearty laugh. “But I have taken precautions, -you see, against a similar catastrophe. We have had -more than the ‘twice ten tedious years’ together, have we not, -Loveday?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” she said, with her sweet, expressive smile, “we are -just beginning the twenty-seventh, Robin, and have had many -holidays, unlike Mr. and Mrs. Gilpin.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>They were still like lovers, this husband and wife of twenty-six -years’ standing; and it was with a sort of consciousness -that they would be happier if left to themselves, that Frithiof, -who sat between Mrs. Boniface and Cecil, turned toward the -latter, and began to talk to her.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>Cecil was looking her very best that day. The sun lighted -up her fair hair, the fresh wind brought a glow of healthy color -to her cheeks, her honest gray eyes had lost the grave look -which they usually wore, and were bright and happy-looking; -for she was not at all the sort of girl, who, because she could -not get her own wish, refused to enjoy life. She took all that -came to her brightly enough, and, with a presentiment that -such a treat as this drive with Frithiof would not often fall to -her lot, she gave herself up to present happiness, and put far -from her all anxieties and fears for the future. From the back -seat, peals of laughter from Lance, and Gwen, and Swanhild -reached them. In front, by the side of the driver, they could -see Roy and Sigrid absorbed in their own talk; and with such -surroundings it would have been hard indeed if these two, the -Norwegian, with his sad story, and Cecil, with her life overshadowed -by his trouble, had not been able for a time to throw -off everything that weighed them down, and enjoy themselves -like the rest.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“This is a thousand times better than a cariole or a stolkjaerre,” -said Frithiof. “What a splendid pace we are going -at, and how well you see the country! It is the perfection of -traveling.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“So I think,” said Cecil. “At any rate, on such a day as -this. In rain, or snow, or burning heat, it might be rather -trying. And then, of course, in the old days we should not -have had it all snugly to ourselves like this; which makes such -a difference.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He thought over those last words for a minute, and reflected -how among “ourselves” Cecil included the little children of a -criminal, and the foreigners who had scarcely been known to -them for two years. Her warm, generous heart had for him a -very genuine attraction. Possibly, if it had not been for that -chance meeting with Blanche, which had caused an old wound -to break out anew, some thought of love might have stirred in -his breast. As it was, he was merely grateful to her for chasing -away the gloom that for the last few days had hung about him -like a fog. She was to him a cheering ray of sunshine; a -healthy breeze that dispersed the mist; a friend—but nothing -more.</p> - -<p class='c000'>On they drove, free of houses at last, or passing only isolated -farms, little villages, and sleepy country towns. The trees -were in all the exquisite beauty of early June, and the Norwegians, -accustomed to less varied foliage, were enthusiastic in -their admiration. They had never known before what it was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>to drive along a road bordered by picturesque hedges, with -stately elms here and there, and with oaks and beeches, sycamores -and birches, poplars and chestnuts scattered in such -lavish profusion throughout the landscape.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If we can beat you in mountains, you can certainly -beat us in trees!” cried Sigrid, her blue eyes bright with -happiness.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She was enjoying it all as only those who have been toiling -in a great town can enjoy the sights and sounds of the country. -The most humdrum things had an attraction for her, and when -they stopped by and by for tea, at a little roadside inn, she -almost wished their drive at an end, such a longing came over -her to run out into the fields and just gather flowers to her -heart’s content.</p> - -<p class='c000'>At last, after a great deal of tea and bread and butter had -been consumed, they mounted the coach again, leaving a sort -of reflection of their happiness in the hearts of the people of -the inn.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There’s merry-makers and merry-makers,” remarked the -landlord, glancing after them; “yon’s the right sort, and no -mistake.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And now Mr. Boniface began to enjoy to the full his surprise. -How he laughed when they implored him to say where -they were going! How triumphant he was when the driver, -who was as deaf as a post, utterly declined to answer leading -questions put to him by Roy!</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I believe we are going to Helmstone, or some great watering-place, -where we shall have to be proper and wear gloves,” -said Cecil.</p> - -<p class='c000'>This was received with groans.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But to get a sight of the sea one would put up with glove-wearing,” -said Sigrid. “And we could, at any rate, walk out -into the country, I suppose, for flowers.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mr. Boniface only smiled, however, and looked inscrutable. -And finding that they could not guess their destination in the -least, they took to singing rounds, which made the time pass -by very quickly. At length Frithiof started to his feet with an -eager exclamation.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The sea!” he cried.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And sure enough, there, in the distance, was the first glimpse -of a long blue line, which made the hearts of the Norwegians -throb with eager delight.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It seems like being at home again,” said Swanhild, while -Frithiof seemed to drink in new life as the fresh salt wind blew -<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>once more upon him, bringing back to his mind the memory of -many a perilous adventure in his free, careless boyhood.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“A big watering-place,” groaned Roy. “I told you so. -Houses, churches, a parade, and a pier; I can see them all.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Where? where?” cried every one, while Mr. Boniface -laughed quietly and rubbed his hands.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Over there, to the left,” said Roy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You prophet of evil!” cried Cecil merrily; “we are turning -quite away to the right.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And on they went between the green downs, till they came -to a tiny village, far removed from railways, and leaving even -that behind them, paused at length before a solitary farm-house, -standing a little back from the road, with downs on -either side of it, and barely a quarter of a mile from the sea.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How did you hear of this delightful place, father?” cried -Cecil; “it is just perfect.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, I saw it when you and Roy were in Norway two summers -ago,” said Mr. Boniface. “Mother and I drove out here -from Southborne, and took such a fancy to this farm that, like -Captain Cuttle, we made a note of it, and kept it for a surprise -party.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mr. Horner, in his suburban villa, was at that very moment -lamenting his cousin’s absurd extravagance.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He was always wanting in common-sense, poor fellow,” -observed Mrs. Horner. “But to hire a coach-and-four just to -take into the country his own family and that criminal’s children, -and those precious Norwegians, who apparently think -themselves on a level with the highest in the land—that beats -everything! I suppose he’ll be wanting to hire a palace for -them next bank holiday!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>As a matter of fact, the farm-house accommodation was -rather limited, but no one cared about that. Though the -rooms were small, they had a most delicious smell of the country -about them, and every one, moreover, was in a humor to be -as much out of doors as possible.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The time seemed to all of them a little like that summer holiday -at Balholm in its freedom and brightness and good-fellowship. -The delightful rambles over the breezy downs, the visit -to the lighthouse, the friendly chats with the coast-guardsmen, -the boating excursions, and the quiet country Sunday—all remained -in their memories for long after.</p> - -<p class='c000'>To Roy those days were idyllic; and Sigrid, too, began to -understand for the first time that he was something more to her -than Frithiof’s friend. The two were much together, and on -<span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>the Monday afternoon, when the rest of the party had gone off -again to the lighthouse for Lance’s special benefit, they wandered -away along the shore, nominally searching among the -rocks for anemones, but far too much absorbed in each other -to prove good collectors.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It took a long time really to know Roy, for he was silent and -reserved; but by this time Sigrid had begun to realize how -much there was in him that was well worth knowing, and her -bright, easy manner had always been able to thaw his taciturn -moods. He had, she perceived, his father’s large-mindedness; -he studied the various problems of the day in the same spirit; to -money he was comparatively indifferent; and he was wholly -without that spirit of calculation, that sordid ambition which is -very unjustly supposed to animate most of those engaged in retail -trade. Sigrid had liked him ever since their first meeting -in Norway, but only within the last two days had any thought -of love occurred to her. Even now that thought was scarcely -formed; she was only conscious of being unusually happy, and -of feeling a sort of additional happiness, and a funny sense of -relief when the rest of the party climbed the hill to the lighthouse, -leaving her alone with Roy. Of what they talked she -scarcely knew, but as they wandered on over low rocks and -pools and shingle, hand in hand, because the way was slippery -and treacherous, it seemed to her that she was walking in some -new paradise. The fresh air and beauty after the smoke and the -wilderness of streets; the sense of protection, after the anxieties -of being manager-in-chief to a very poor household; -above all, the joyous brightness after a sad past, made her heart -dance within her; and in her happiness she looked so lovely -that all thought of obstacles and difficulties left Roy’s mind.</p> - -<p class='c000'>They sat down to rest in a little sheltered nook under the -high chalk cliffs, and it was there that he poured out to her the -confession of his love, being so completely carried away that for -once words came readily to his lips, so that Sigrid was almost -frightened by his eagerness. How different was this from -Torvald Lundgren’s proposal! How utterly changed was her -whole life since that wintry day when she had walked back -from the Bergen cemetery!</p> - -<p class='c000'>What was it that had made everything so bright to her since -then? Was it not the goodness of the man beside her—the -man who had saved her brother’s life—who had brought them -together once more—who now loved her and asked for her -love?</p> - -<p class='c000'>When at last he paused, waiting for her reply, she was for a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>minute or two quite silent; still her face reassured Roy, and -he was not without hope, so that the waiting-time was not intolerable -to him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If it were only myself to be thought about,” she said at -length, “I might perhaps give you an answer more readily. -But, you see, there are other people to be considered.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The admission she had made sent a throb of delight to -Roy’s heart. Once sure of her love he dreaded no obstacles.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are thinking of Frithiof,” he said. “And of course I -would never ask you to leave him; but there would be no -need. If you could love me—if you will be my wife—you -would be much freer than you now are to help him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The thought of his wealth suddenly flashed into Sigrid’s -mind, giving her a momentary pang; yet, since she really loved -him, it was impossible that this should be a lasting barrier between -them. She looked out over the sea, and the thought of her old -home, and of the debts, and the slow struggle to pay them, -came to her; yet all the time she knew that these could not -separate her from Roy. She loved him, and the world’s praise -or blame were just nothing to her. She could not care in the -least about the way in which such a marriage would be regarded -by outsiders. She loved him; and when once sure that her -marriage would be right—that it would not be selfish, or in -any way bad in its effects on either Frithiof or Swanhild—it -was impossible that she should hesitate any longer.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But of this she was not yet quite sure. All had come upon -her so suddenly that she felt as if she must have time to think -it out quietly before making a definite promise.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Give me a fortnight,” she said, “and then I will let you -have my answer. It would not be fair to either of us if I -spoke hastily when so much is at stake.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Roy could not complain of this suggestion: it was much that -he was able at last to plead his own cause with Sigrid, and -in her frank blue eyes there lurked something which told him -that he need fear no more.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Meanwhile time sped on, and, unheeded by these two, the -tide was coming in. They were so absorbed in their own affairs -that it was not until a wave swept right into the little bay, leaving -a foam-wreath almost at their feet, that they realized their -danger. With a quick exclamation Roy started up.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What have I been thinking of?” he cried in dismay. “Why, -we are cut off!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid sprang forward and glanced toward Britling Gap. It -was too true. Return was absolutely impossible.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>“We could never swim such a distance,” she said. And -turning, she glanced toward the steep white cliff above.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And that too is utterly impossible,” said Roy. “Our only -hope is in some pleasure-boat passing. Stay, I have an -idea.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Hastily opening his knife he began to scoop out footholds in -the chalk. He saw that their sole chance lay in making a -standing-place out of reach of the water, and he worked with -all his might, first securing a place for the feet, then, higher -up, scooping holes for the hands to cling to; he spoke little, -his mind was too full of a torturing sense of blame, a bitter indignation -with himself for allowing his very love to blind him -to such a danger.</p> - -<p class='c000'>As for Sigrid, she picked up a pointed stone and began to -work too with desperate energy. She was naturally brave, and -as long as she could do anything her heart scarcely beat faster -than usual. It was the waiting-time that tried her, the clinging -to that uncompromising white cliff, while below the waves -surged to and fro with the noise that only that morning she -had thought musical, but which now seemed to her almost intolerable. -If it had not been that Roy’s arm was round her, -holding her closely, she could never have borne up so long; she -would have turned giddy and fallen back into the water. But -his strength seemed to her equal to anything, and her perfect -confidence in him filled her with a wonderful energy of endurance.</p> - -<p class='c000'>In their terrible position all sense of time left them; they -could not tell whether it was for minutes or for hours that -they had clung to their frail refuge, when at length a shout from -above reached their ears.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Courage!” cried a voice. “A boat is coming to your -help. Hold on!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Hope renewed their strength in a wonderful way; they were -indeed less to be pitied than those who had the fearful anxiety -of rescuing them, or watching the rescue.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was Frithiof who had first discovered them; the rest of the -party, after seeing over the lighthouse, had wandered along the -cliffs talking to an old sailor, and, Lance being seized with a -desire to see over the edge, Frithiof had set Cecil’s mind at -rest by lying down with the little fellow and holding him securely -while he glanced down the sheer descent to the sea. A little -farther on, to the left, he suddenly perceived, to his horror, -the two clinging figures, and at once recognized them. Dragging -the child back, he sprang up and seized the old sailor’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>arm, interrupting a long-winded story to which Mr. Boniface -was listening.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There are two people down there, cut off by the tide,” he -said. “What is the quickest way to reach them?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Good Lord!” cried the old man; “why, there’ll be nought -quicker than a boat at Britling Gap, or ropes brought from -there and let down.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Tell them help is coming,” said Frithiof “I will row -round.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And without another word he set off running like the wind -toward the coast-guard station. On and on he rushed over -the green downs, past the little white chalk-heaps that marked -the coast-guard’s nightly walk, past the lighthouse and down -the hill to the little sheltered cove. Though a good runner, he -was sadly out of training; his breath came now in gasps, his -throat felt as though it were on fire, and all the time a terrible -dread filled his heart. Supposing he were too late!</p> - -<p class='c000'>At Britling Gap not a soul was in sight, and he dared not -waste time in seeking help. The boat was in its usual place on -the beach. He shoved it out to sea, sprang into it, paused -only to fling off his coat, then with desperate energy pulled -toward the place where Roy and Sigrid awaited their rescuer -with fast-failing strength.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And yet in all Frithiof’s anxiety there came to him a strange -sense of satisfaction, an excitement which banished from his -mind all the specters of the past, a consciousness of power that -in itself was invigorating. Danger seemed to be his native -element, daring his strongest characteristic, and while straining -every nerve and making the little boat bound through the -water, he was more at rest than he had been for months, just -because everything personal had faded into entire insignificance -before the absorbing need of those whom he loved.</p> - -<p class='c000'>How his pulses throbbed when at length he caught sight of -Sigrid’s figure! and with what skill he guided his boat toward the -cliff, shouting out encouragement and warning! The two were -both so stiff and exhausted that it was no easy task to get them -down into the boat, but he managed it somehow, and a glad -cheer from above showed that the watchers were following -their every movement with eager sympathy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Let us walk back quickly,” said Mr. Boniface, “that we -may be ready to meet them,” and with an intensity of relief -they hurried back to Britling Gap, arriving just in time to greet -the three as they walked up the beach. Sigrid, though rather -pale and exhausted, seemed little the worse for the adventure, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_224'>224</span>and a glad color flooded her cheeks when Mr. Boniface turned -to Frithiof and grasping his hand, thanked him warmly for -what he had done. Cecil said scarcely anything; she could -hardly trust herself to speak, but her heart beat fast as, glancing -at Frithiof, she saw on his face the bright look which made -him once more like the Frithiof she had met long ago at -Bergen.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XXIV' class='c005'>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>Mr. Boniface insisted on keeping them all till the following -day, when once more they enjoyed the delights of coaching, -getting back to London in the cool of the evening, laden -with wild roses, hawthorn, and field flowers, which gladdened -more than one of their neighbors’ rooms in the model -lodgings.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was not till Wednesday in Whitsun-week that Frithiof -found himself in his old place behind the counter, and it took -several days before they all got into working order again, for -though the holiday had done them good, yet it was not very -easy to get back into the routine of business. But by Monday -everything was in clockwork order again, and even Mr. Horner, -though ready enough at all times to grumble, could find -nothing to make a fuss about. It happened that day that Mr. -Horner was more in the shop than usual, for Roy had unexpectedly -been obliged to go to Paris on business, and it chanced, -much to his satisfaction, that, while Mr. Boniface was dining, -Sardoni the tenor called to speak about a song. There was -nothing that he enjoyed so much as interviewing any well-known -singer; he seemed to gain a sort of reflected glory in -the process, and Frithiof could hardly help smiling when at -the close of the interview they passed through the shop, so -comical was the obsequious manner of the little man toward -the tall, jolly-looking singer, and so curious the contrast between -the excessive politeness of his tone to the visitor, and -his curt command, “Open the door, Falck.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof opened the door promptly, but the tenor, whose -mischievous eyes evidently took in everything that savored of -fun, saw plainly enough that the Norseman, with his dignity -of manner and nobility of bearing, deemed Mr. Horner as a -man beneath contempt.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, by the way, Mr. Horner,” he exclaimed suddenly, -turning back just as he had left the shop; “I quite forgot to -ask if you could oblige me with change for a five-pound note. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span>I have tried to get it twice this morning, but change seems to -be short.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“With the greatest pleasure,” said Mr. Horner deferentially.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And pushing past Frithiof, he himself deposited the note in -the till and counted out five sovereigns, which he handed with -a bow to Sardoni.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then, with a friendly “good-day,” the singer went out, and -Mr. Horner, rubbing his hands with an air of great satisfaction, -retired to Mr. Boniface’s room. The afternoon passed on just -as hundreds of afternoons had passed before it, with the usual -succession of customers, the usual round of monotonous work; -there was nothing to mark it in any way, and no sense of coming -evil made itself felt. In the most prosaic manner possible, -Frithiof went out for the few minutes’ stroll in the streets which -he called tea-time. He was in good spirits, and as he walked -along he thought of the days by the sea, and of the boating -which he had so much enjoyed, living it all over again in this -hot, dusty London, where June was far from delightful. Still, -it was something to be out in the open air, to get a few -moments of leisure and to stretch one’s legs. He walked along -pretty briskly, managing to get some little enjoyment out of -his short respite, and this was well; for it was long before he -could enjoy anything again in that unconcerned, free-hearted -way. Yet nothing warned him of this; quite carelessly he -pushed open the double swing-doors and re-entered the shop, -glancing with surprise but with no special concern at the little -group behind the counter. Mr. Horner was finding fault -about something, but that was a very ordinary occurrence. A -thin, grave-looking man stood listening attentively, and Mr. -Boniface listened too with an expression of great trouble on -his face. Looking up, he perceived Frithiof, and with an exclamation -of relief came toward him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Here is Mr. Falck!” he said; “who no doubt will be -able to explain everything satisfactorily. A five-pound note -has somehow disappeared from your till this afternoon, Frithiof; -do you know anything about it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It was certainly in the till when I last opened it,” said -Frithiof; “and that was only a few minutes before I went -out.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Very possibly,” said Mr. Horner. “The question is -whether it was there when you shut it again.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The tone even more than the words made Frithiof’s blood -boil.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sir,” he said furiously, “do you dare to insinuate that I—”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span>But Mr. Boniface laid a hand on his arm and interrupted -him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Frithiof,” he said, “you know quite well that I should as -soon suspect my own son as you. But this note has disappeared -in a very extraordinary way, while only you and Darnell -were in the shop, and we must do our best to trace it out. I -am sure you will help me in this disagreeable business by going -through the ordinary form quietly.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then, turning to the private detective who had been hastily -called in by Mr. Horner, he suggested that they should come -to his own room. Mr. Horner shut the door with an air of -satisfaction. From the first he had detested the Norwegian, -and now was delighted to feel that his dislike was justified. -Mr. Boniface, looking utterly miserable, sat down in his arm-chair -to await the result of the inquiry, and the two men who -lay under suspicion stood before the detective, who with his -practiced eye glanced now at one, now at the other, willing if -possible to spare the innocent man the indignity of being -searched.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Darnell was a rather handsome fellow, with a short dark -beard and heavy moustache: he looked a trifle paler than -usual, but was quite quiet and collected, perhaps a little upset -at the unusual disturbance in the shop where for so long he -had worked, yet without the faintest sign of personal uneasiness -about him. Beside him stood the tall Norwegian, his fair -skin showing all too plainly the burning color that had rushed -to his face the instant he knew that he lay actually under suspicion -of thieving. Mr. Horner’s words still made him tingle -from head to foot, and he could gladly have taken the man by -the throat and shaken the breath out of him. For the suspicion, -hard enough for any man to bear, was doubly hard to him on -account of his nationality. That a Norwegian should be otherwise -than strictly honorable was to Frithiof a monstrous idea. -He knew well that he and his countrymen in general had -plenty of faults, but scrupulous honesty was so ingrained in -his Norse nature, that to have the slightest doubt cast upon -his honor was to him an intolerable insult. The detective -could not, of course, understand this. He was a clever and a -conscientious man, but his experience was, after all, limited. -He had not traveled in Norway, or studied the character of -its people; he did not know that you may leave all your luggage -outside an inn in the public highway without the least -fear that in the night any one will meddle with it: he did not -know that if you give a Norse child a coin equal to sixpence -<span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span>in return for a great bowl of milk, it will refuse with real distress -to keep it, because the milk was worth a little less; he -had not heard the story of the lost chest of plate, which by -good chance was washed up on the Norwegian coast, how the -experts examined the crest on the spoons, and after infinite -labor and pains succeeded in restoring it to its rightful owner -in a far-away southern island. It was, after all, quite natural -that he should suspect the man who had colored so deeply, -who protested so indignantly against the mere suspicion of -guilt, who clearly shrank from the idea of being searched.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I will examine you first,” said the detective; and Frithiof, -seeing that there was no help for it, submitted with haughty -composure to the indignity. For an instant even Mr. Horner -was shaken in his opinion, there was such an evident consciousness -of innocence in the Norwegian’s whole manner and -bearing now that the ordeal had actually come.</p> - -<p class='c000'>In solemn silence two pockets were turned inside out. The -right-hand waistcoat pocket was apparently empty, but the -careful detective turned that inside out too. Suddenly Mr. -Boniface started forward with an ejaculation of astonishment.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I told you so,” cried Mr. Horner vehemently.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And Frithiof, roused to take notice, which before he had -not condescended to do, looked down and saw a sight that -made his heart stand still.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Carefully pinned to the inside of the pocket was a clean, -fresh, five-pound note. He did not speak a word, but just -stared at the thing in blank amazement. There was a painful -silence. Surely it could be nothing but a bad dream!</p> - -<p class='c000'>He looked at the unconcerned detective, and at Mr. Horner’s -excited face, and at Mr. Boniface’s expression of grief -and perplexity. It was no dream; it was a most horrible -reality—a reality which he was utterly incapable of explaining. -With an instinct that there was yet one man present who -trusted him, in spite of appearances, he made a step or two -toward Mr. Boniface.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sir,” he said, in great agitation, “I swear to you that I knew -nothing of this. It has astounded me as much as it has surprised -you. How it came there I can’t say, but certainly I -didn’t put it there.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mr. Boniface was silent, and glancing back Frithiof saw on -the thin lips of the detective a very expressive smile. The -sight almost maddened him. In the shock of the discovery he -had turned very pale, now the violence of his wrath made him -flush to the roots of his hair.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span>“If you didn’t put it there, who did?” said Mr. Horner indignantly. -“Don’t add to your sin, young man, by falsehood.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have never spoken a falsehood in my life; it is you who -lie when you say that I put the note there,” said Frithiof -hotly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My poor fellow,” said Mr. Boniface, “I am heartily sorry -for you, but you must own that appearances are against you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What! you too, sir!” cried Frithiof, his indignation giving -place to heartbroken wonder.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The tone went to Mr. Boniface’s heart.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I think you did it quite unconsciously,” he said. “I am -sure you never could have taken it had you known what you -were about. You did it in absence of mind—in a fit of temporary -aberration. It is, perhaps, a mere result of your illness -last summer, and no one would hold you responsible for it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>A horrible wave of doubt passed over Frithiof. Could this -indeed be the explanation? But it was only for a moment. -He could not really believe it; he knew that there was no truth -in this suggestion of brain disturbance.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No one in absence of mind could deliberately have pinned -the note in,” he said. “Besides my head was perfectly clear, -not even aching or tired.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Quite so; I am glad that so far you own the truth,” said -Mr. Horner. “Make a free confession at once and we will not -press the prosecution. You yielded to a sudden temptation, -and, as we all know, have special reasons for needing money. -Come, confess!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are not bound to incriminate yourself,” said the detective, -who, as acting in a private capacity, was not bound to -urge the prosecution. “Still, what the gentleman suggests is -by far the best course for you to take. There’s not a jury in -the land that would not give a verdict against you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I shall certainly not tell a lie to save open disgrace,” said -Frithiof. “The jury may say what it likes. God knows I -am innocent.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The tone in which he said the last words made Mr. Boniface -look at him more closely. Strangely enough it was in that moment -of supreme bitterness, when he fully realized the hopelessness -of his position, when one of his employers deemed him a -madman and the other a thief, then, when disgrace and ruin and -utter misery stared him in the face, that the faint glimpses of the -Unseen, which, from time to time, had dawned for him, broadened -into full sunlight. For the first time in his life he stood -<span class='pageno' id='Page_229'>229</span>in close personal relationship with the Power in whom he had -always vaguely believed, the higher Presence became to him -much more real than men surrounding him with their pity and -indignation and contempt.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But Mr. Horner was not the sort of man to read faces, much -less to read hearts; the very emphasis with which Frithiof had -spoken made him more angry.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Now I <em>know</em> that you are lying!” he cried: “don’t add -blasphemy to your crime. You are the most irreligious fellow I -ever came across—a man who, to my certain knowledge, never -attends any place of public worship, and do you dare to call -God to witness for you?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Nothing but the strong consciousness of this new Presence -kept Frithiof from making a sharp retort. But a great calmness -had come over him, and his tone might have convinced even -Mr. Horner had he not been so full of prejudice. “God -knows I am innocent,” he repeated; “and only He can tell -how the note got here; I can’t.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“One word with you, if you please, Mr. Harris,” said Robert -Boniface, suddenly pushing back his chair and rising to his -feet, as though he could no longer tolerate the discussion.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He led the way back to the shop, where, in low tones, he -briefly gave the detective his own opinion of the case. He -was sure that Frithiof firmly believed he was telling the truth, -but, unable to doubt the evidence of his own senses, he was -obliged to take up the plausible theory of temporary aberration. -The detective shrugged his shoulders a little, and said -it might possibly be so, but the young man seemed to him remarkably -clear-headed. However, he accepted his fee and -went off, and Mr. Boniface returned sadly enough to his room.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You can go back to the shop, Darnell,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The man bowed and withdrew, leaving Frithiof still standing -half-bewildered where the detective had left him, the cause -of all his misery lying on the writing-table before him, just as -fresh and crisp-looking as when it had issued from the Bank -of England.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“This has been a sad business, Frithiof,” said Mr. Boniface, -leaning his elbow on the mantel-piece, and looking with -his clear, kindly eyes at the young Norwegian. “But I am -convinced that you had no idea what you were doing, and I -should not dream of prosecuting you, or discharging you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Poor Frithiof was far too much stunned to be able to feel any -gratitude for this. Mr. Horner, however, left him no time to -reply.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_230'>230</span>“I think you have taken leave of your senses, Boniface,” he -said vehemently. “Save yourself the annoyance of prosecuting, -if you like; but it is grossly unfair to the rest of your employees -to keep a thief in your house. Not only that, but it is -altogether immoral; it is showing special favor to vice; it is -admitting a principle which, if allowed, would ruin all business -life. If there is one thing noticeable in all successful -concerns it is that uncompromising severity is shown to even -trifling errors—even to carelessness.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My business has hitherto been successful,” said Mr. Boniface -quietly, “and I have never gone on that principle, and -never will. Why are we to have a law of mercy and rigidly to -exclude it from every-day life? But that is the way of the -world. It manages, while calling itself Christian, to shirk most -of Christ’s commands.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I tell you,” said Mr. Horner, who was now in a towering -passion, “that it is utterly against the very rules of religion. -The fellow is not repentant; he persists in sticking to a lie, -and yet you weakly forgive him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If,” said Mr. Boniface quietly, “you knew a little more of -Frithiof Falck you would know that it is quite impossible that -he could consciously have taken the money. When he took it -he was not himself. If he had wanted to hide it—to steal it—why -did he actually return to the shop with it in his possession? -He might easily have disposed of it while he was out.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If that is your ground, then I object to having a man on -my premises who is afflicted with kleptomania. But it is not -so. The fellow is as long-headed and quick-witted as any one -I know; he has managed to hoodwink you, but from the first -I saw through him, and knew him to be a designing—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sir,” broke in Frithiof, turning to Mr. Boniface—his bewildered -consternation changing now to passionate earnestness—“this -is more than I can endure. For God’s sake call back the -detective, examine further into this mystery; there <em>must</em> be -some explanation!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How can any man examine further?” said Mr. Boniface -sadly. “The note is missed, and is actually found upon you. -The only possible explanation is that you were not yourself -when you took it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then the least you can do is to dismiss him,” resumed -Mr. Horner. But Mr. Boniface interrupted him very -sharply.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You will please remember, James, that you are in no way -concerned with the engagement or dismissal of those employed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_231'>231</span>in this house. That is entirely my affair, as is set forth in our -deed of partnership.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Which partnership will need renewing in another six -months,” said Mr. Horner, growing red with anger. “And I -give you fair warning that, if this dishonest fellow is kept on, I -shall then withdraw my capital and retire from the business.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>With this Parthian shot he went out, banging the door behind -him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof had borne in silence all the taunts and insults showered -on him; but when he found himself alone with the man -to whom he owed so much, he very nearly broke down altogether. -“Sir,” he said, trying in vain to govern his voice, -“you have been very good to me; but it will be best that I -should go.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I would not have you leave for the world,” said Mr. Boniface. -“Remember that your sisters are dependent on you. -You must think first of them.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No,” said Frithiof firmly; “I must first think of what I -owe to you. It would be intolerable to me to feel that I had -brought any loss on you through Mr. Horner’s anger. I must -go.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Nonsense,” said Mr. Boniface. “I cannot hear of such a -thing. Why, how do you think you would get another situation -with this mystery still hanging over you? I, who know -you so well, am convinced of your perfect freedom from blame. -But strangers could not possibly be convinced of it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof was silent; he thought of Sigrid and Swanhild suffering -through his trouble, he remembered his terrible search for -work when he first came to London, and he realized that it was -chiefly his own pride that prompted him never to return to the -shop. After all, what a prospect it was! With one partner -deeming him a thief and the other forced to say that he must -be subject to a form of insanity; with the men employed in the -shop all ready to deem him a dishonest foreigner! How was he -to bear such a terrible position? Yet bear it he must; nay, -he must be thankful for the chance of being allowed to bear it.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If you are indeed willing that I should stay,” he said, at -length, “then I will stay. But your theory—the theory that -makes you willing still to trust me—is mistaken. I know that -there is not a minute in this day when my head has not been -perfectly clear.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My dear fellow, you must allow me to keep what theory I -please. There is no other explanation than this, and you -would be wisest if you accepted it yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_232'>232</span>“That is impossible,” said Frithiof sadly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is equally impossible that I can doubt the evidence of -my own senses. The note was there, and you can’t possibly -explain its presence. How is it possible that Darnell could -have crossed over to your till, taken out the note and pinned it -in your pocket? Besides, what motive could he have for doing -such a thing?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t know,” said Frithiof; “yet I shall swear to my -dying day that I never did it myself.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, there is no use in arguing the point,” said Robert -Boniface wearily. “It is enough for me that I can account to -myself for what must otherwise be an extraordinary mystery. -You had better go back to your work now, and do not worry -over the affair. Remember that I do not hold you responsible -for what has happened.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>After this of course nothing more could be said. Frithiof -left the room feeling years older than when he had entered it, -and with a heavy heart took that first miserable plunge into -the outer world—the world where he must now expect to meet -with suspicious looks and cold dislike.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XXV' class='c005'>CHAPTER XXV.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>As he walked down the sort of avenue of pianos and harmoniums -in the inner shop, there came to his mind, why, he could -not have told, words spoken to him long before by that customer -who had left on his mind so lasting an impression, “Courage! -the worst will pass.” Though he could not exactly believe -the words, yet he clung to them with a sort of desperation. -Also he happened to notice the clock, and practically -adopted Sydney Smith’s wise maxim, “Take short views.” -There were exactly two hours and a quarter before closing time; -he could at any rate endure as long as that, and of the future -he would not think. There were no customers in the shop, -but he could hear voices in eager discussion, and he knew quite -well what was the subject of their talk. Of course the instant -he came into sight a dead silence ensued, and the little group, -consisting of Foster, Darnell, one of the tuners, and the boy -who made himself generally useful, dispersed at once, while in -the ominous quiet Frithiof went to his usual place. The first -few minutes were terrible; he sat down at his desk, took up -his pen, and opened the order-book, making a feint of being -actually employed, but conscious only of the dreadful silence -<span class='pageno' id='Page_233'>233</span>and of the eyes that glanced curiously at him; again a burning -flush passed over his face, just from the horror and shame of -even being suspected of dishonesty. It was a relief to him -when a customer entered, a man entirely ignorant of all that -had passed, and only bent on securing the best seats to be had -for Mr. Boniface’s concert on the following day. Carlo Donati, -the celebrated baritone, was to sing, and as he had only appeared -once before that season, except in opera, there was a -great demand for tickets, which kept them pretty busy until at -length the longed-for closing came; the other men lingered a -little to discuss afresh the great event of the day, but Frithiof, -who had been watching the hands of the clock with longing -eyes, felt as if he could not have borne the atmosphere of the -shop for another minute, and snatching up his hat made for -the door. None of them said good-night to him; they were -not intentionally unkind, but they were awkward, and they felt -that the strange affair of the afternoon had made a great gulf -between them and the culprit. However, Frithiof was past -caring much for trifles, for after the first moment of intense -relief, as he felt the cool evening air blowing on him, the sense -of another trouble to be met had overpowered all else. He -had got somehow to tell Sigrid of his disgrace, to bring the -cloud which shadowed him into the peaceful home that had -become so dear to him. Very slowly he walked through the -noisy streets, very reluctantly crossed the great courtyard, and -mounted flight after flight of stairs. At the threshold he hesitated, -wondering whether it would be possible to shield them -from the knowledge. He could hear Sigrid singing in the -kitchen as she prepared the supper, and something told him -that it would be impossible to conceal his trouble from her. -With a sigh he opened the door into the sitting-room; it looked -very bright and cheerful; Swanhild stood at the open window -watering the flowers in the window-box, red and white geraniums -and southernwood, grown from cuttings given by Cecil. -She gave him her usual merry greeting.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Come and look at my garden, Frithiof,” she said. “Doesn’t -it look lovely?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, you are late,” said Sigrid, coming in with the cocoa, -her face a little flushed with the fire, which was trying on that -summer-day. Then, glancing at him, “How tired you look! -Come, sit down and eat. I have got a German sausage that -even Herr Sivertsen would not grumble at. The heat has tired -you, and you will feel better after you have had something.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He ate obediently, though the food almost choked him; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_234'>234</span>Swanhild, fancying that he had one of his bad headaches, grew -quiet, and afterwards was not surprised to find that he did -not as usual get out his writing materials, but asked Sigrid to go -out with him for a turn.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are too tired to try the translating?” she asked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, I’ll try it later,” he said; “but let us have half an -hour’s walk together now.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She consented at once and went to put on her hat, well knowing -that Frithiof never shirked his work without good reason; -then leaving strict orders with Swanhild not to sit up after nine, -they left her absorbed in English history, and went down into -the cool, clear twilight. Some children were playing quietly -in the courtyard; Sigrid stopped for a minute to speak to one -of them.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Is your father better this evening?” she asked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, miss, and he’s a-goin’ back to work to-morrow,” replied -the child, lifting a beaming face up to the friendly Norwegian -lady, who had become a general favorite among her neighbors.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That is one of the little Hallifields,” explained Sigrid, as -they passed on. “The father, you know, is a tram-car conductor, -and the work is just killing him by inches; some day -you really must have a talk with him and just hear what terrible -hours he has to keep. It makes me sick to think of it. How -I wish you were in Parliament, Frithiof, and could do something -to put down all the grievances that we are forever coming -across!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There was once a time when at home we used to dream -that I might even be a king’s minister,” said Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Something in his voice made her sorry for her last speech; -she knew that one of his fits of depression had seized him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“So we did, and perhaps after all you may be. It was always, -you know, through something very disagreeable that in -the old stories the highest wish was attained. Remember the -‘Wild Swans.’ And even ‘Cinderella’ has that thought running -through it. We are taught the same thing from our nursery -days upward. And, you know, though there are some -drawbacks, I think living like this, right among the people, is a -splendid training. One can understand their troubles so much -better.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I should have thought you had troubles enough of your -own,” he said moodily, “without bothering yourself with -other people’s.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But since our own troubles I have somehow cared more -about them; I don’t feel afraid as I used to do of sick people, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_235'>235</span>and people who have lost those belonging to them. I want -always to get nearer to them.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sigrid,” he said desperately, “can you bear a fresh trouble -for yourself? I have bad news for you to-night.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her heart seemed to stop beating.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Roy?” she asked breathlessly, her mind instinctively turning -first to fears for his safety.</p> - -<p class='c000'>At any other time Frithiof would have guessed the truth -through that tremulous, unguarded question, which had escaped -her involuntarily. But he was too miserable to notice it then.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, no, Roy is still at Paris. They heard to-day that he -could not be back in time for the concert. It is I who have -brought this trouble on you. Though how it came about God -only knows. Listen, and I’ll tell you exactly how everything -happened.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>By this time they had reached one of the parks, and they sat -down on a bench under the shade of a great elm-tree. Frithiof -could not bear to look at Sigrid, could not endure to watch the -effect of his words; he fixed his eyes on the smutty sheep that -were feeding on the grass opposite him. Then very quietly -and minutely he told exactly what had passed that afternoon.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am glad,” she exclaimed when he paused, “that Mr. -Boniface was so kind. And yet, how can he think that of -you?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You do not think it, then?” he asked, looking her full in -the face.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What! think that you took it in absence of mind? Think -that it would be possible for you deliberately to take it out of -the till and pin it in your own pocket! Why, of course not! -In actual delirium, I suppose, a man might do anything, but -you are as strong and well as any one else. Of course, you -had nothing whatever to do with it, either consciously or unconsciously.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yet the thing was somehow there, and the logical inference -is, that I must have put it there,” he said, scanning her -face with keen attention.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t care a fig for logical inference,” she cried, with a -little vehement motion of her foot. “All I know is that you -had nothing whatever to do with it. If I had to die for maintaining -that, I would say it with my last breath.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He caught her hand in his and held it fast.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If you still believe in me, the worst is over,” he said. -“With the rest of the world, of course, my character is gone, -but there is no help for that.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_236'>236</span>“But there must be help,” said Sigrid. “Some one else -must be guilty. The other man in the shop must certainly have -put it there.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“For what purpose?” said Frithiof sadly. “Besides, how -could he have done it without my knowledge?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t know,” said Sigrid, beginning to perceive the difficulties -of the case. “What sort of a man is he?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I used to dislike him at first, and he naturally disliked me -because I was a foreigner. But latterly we have got on well -enough. He is a very decent sort of fellow, and I don’t for a -moment believe that he would steal.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“One of you must have done it,” said Sigrid. “And as I -certainly never could believe that you did it, I am forced to -think the other man guilty.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof was silent. If he did not agree with her, was he not -bound to accept Mr. Boniface’s theory? The horrible mystery -of the affair was almost more than he could endure; his past -had been miserable enough, but he had never known anything -equal to the misery of being innocent yet absolutely unable to -prove this innocence. Sigrid, glancing at him anxiously, could -see even in the dim twilight what a heavy look of trouble -clouded his face, and resolutely turning from the puzzling question -of how the mystery could be explained, she set herself to -make as light of the whole affair as was possible.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Look, Frithiof,” she said; “why should we waste time and -strength in worrying over this? After all, what difference does -it make to us in ourselves? Business hours must, of course, be -disagreeable enough to you, but at home you must forget the -disagreeables; at home you are my hero, unjustly accused and -bearing the penalty of another’s crime.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He smiled a little, touched by her eagerness of tone, and -cheered, in spite of himself, by her perfect faith in him. Yet -all through the night he tossed to and fro in sleepless misery, -trying to find some possible explanation of the afternoon’s -mystery, racking his brain to think of all that he had done or -said since that unlucky hour when Sardoni had asked for -change.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The next morning, as a natural consequence, he began the day -with a dull, miserable headache; at breakfast he hardly spoke, -and he set off for business looking so ill that Sigrid wondered -whether he could possibly get through his work. It was certainly -strange, she could not help thinking, that fate seemed so -utterly against him, and that when at last his life was beginning -to look brighter, he should again be the victim of another’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_237'>237</span>fault. And then, with a sort of comfort, there flashed into -her mind an idea which almost reconciled her to his lot. -What if these obstacles so hard to be surmounted, these -difficulties that hemmed him in so persistently, were after -all only the equivalent to the physical dangers and difficulties -of the life of the old Vikings? Did it not, in truth, need -greater courage and endurance for the nineteenth-century Frithiof -to curb all his natural desires and instincts and toil at uncongenial -work in order to pay off his father’s debts, than for -the Frithiof of olden times to face all the dangers of the sea, and -of foes spiritual and temporal who beset him when he went to -win back the lost tribute money? It was, after all, a keen -pleasure to the old Frithiof to fight with winds and waves; but -it was a hard struggle to the modern Frithiof to stand behind a -counter day after day. And then again, was it not less bitter -for the Frithiof of the Saga to be suspected of sacrilege, than -for Frithiof Falck to be suspected of the most petty and contemptible -act of dishonesty?</p> - -<p class='c000'>She was right. Anything, however painful and difficult, -would have been gladly encountered by poor Frithiof if it -could have spared him that miserable return to his old place in -Mr. Boniface’s shop. And that day’s prosaic work needed -greater moral courage than any previous day of his life.</p> - -<p class='c000'>About half-past nine there arrived a telegram which did not -mend matters. Mr. Boniface was seriously unwell, would not -be in town that day, and could not be at St. James’s Hall that -evening for the concert. Mr. Horner would take his place. -Frithiof’s heart sank at this news; and when presently the -fussy, bumptious, little man entered the shop the climax of -his misery was reached. Mr. Horner read the telegram with -a disturbed air.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Dear! dear! seriously ill, I’m afraid, or he would at least -make an effort to come to-night. But after all the annoyance -of yesterday I am not surprised—no, not at all. Such a -thing has never happened in his business before, ay, Mr. -Foster?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, no, sir,” said the foreman in a low voice, sorry in his -heart for the young Norwegian, who could not avoid hearing -every word.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It was quite enough to make him ill. Such a disgraceful -affair in a house of this class. For his own sake he does well -to hush it up, though I intend to see that all proper precautions -are taken; upon that, at any rate, I insist. If I had my own -way there should have been none of this misplaced leniency. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_238'>238</span>Here, William!” and he beckoned to the boy, who was irreverently -flicking the bust of Mozart with a duster.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, sir,” said William, who, being out of the trouble himself, -secretly rather enjoyed the commotion it had caused.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Go at once to Smith, the ironmonger, and order him to -send some one round to fix a spring bell on a till. Do you -understand?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Quite, sir,” replied William, unable to resist glancing -across the counter.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof went on arranging some music that had just arrived, -but he flushed deeply, and Mr. Horner, glad to have -found a vulnerable point of attack, did not scruple to make the -most of his opportunity. Never, surely, did ironmonger do -his work so slowly! Never, surely, did an employer give so -much of his valuable time to directing exactly what was to be -done, and superintending an affair about which he knew nothing. -But the fixing of that detestable bell gave Mr. Horner -a capitol excuse for being in the shop at Frithiof’s elbow, and -every word and look conveyed such insulting suspicion of -the Norwegian that honest old Foster began to feel angry.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why should I mind this vulgar brute?” thought Frithiof, -as he forced himself to go on with his work with the air of -quiet determination which Mr. Horner detested. But all the -same he did care, and it was the very vulgarity of the attack -that made him inwardly wince. His headache grew worse and -worse, while in maddening monotony came the sounds of -piano tuning from the inner shop, hammering and bell-ringing -at the till close by, and covert insults and innuendoes from -the grating voice of James Horner. How much an employer -can do for those in his shop, how close and cordial the relation -may be, he had learnt from his intercourse with Mr. Boniface. -He now learnt the opposite truth, that no position -affords such constant opportunities for petty tyranny if the -head of the firm happens to be mean or prejudiced. The -miserable hours dragged on somehow, and at last, late in the -afternoon, Foster came up to him with a message.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Mr. Horner wishes to speak to you,” he said; “I will -take your place here.” Then, lowering his voice cautiously, -“It’s my opinion, Mr. Falck, that he is trying to goad you -into resigning, or into an impertinent answer which would -be sufficient to cause your dismissal.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Thank you for the warning,” said Frithiof gratefully, and -a little encouraged by the mere fact that the foreman cared -enough for him to speak in such a way, he went to the private -<span class='pageno' id='Page_239'>239</span>room, determined to be on his guard and not to let pride or -anger get the better of his dignity.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mr. Horner replied to his knock, but did not glance round -as he entered the room.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You wished to speak to me, sir?” asked Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, when I have finished this letter. You can wait,” said -Mr. Horner ungraciously.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He waited quietly, thinking to himself how different was the -manner both of Mr. Boniface and of his son, who were always -as courteous to their employees as to their customers, and would -have thought themselves as little justified in using such a tone -to one of the men as of employing the slave-whip.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mr. Horner, flattering himself that he was producing an impression -and emphasizing the difference between their respective -positions, finished his letter, signed his name with a flourish -characteristic of his opinion of himself, then swung round his -chair and glanced at Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Mr. Boniface left no instructions as to whether you were to -attend as usual at St. James’s Hall to-night,” he began. “But -since no one else is used to the work I suppose there is no -help for it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He paused, apparently expecting some rejoinder, but Frithiof -merely stood there politely attentive.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Since you know the work, and are used to it, you had better -attend as usual, for I should be vexed if any hitch should -occur in the arrangements. But understand, pray, that I -strongly disapprove of your remaining in our employ at all, and -that it is only out of necessity that I submit to it, for I consider -you unfit to mix with respectable people.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Whatever the Norwegian felt, he managed to preserve a perfectly -unmoved aspect. Mr. Horner, who wanted to stir him -into indignant expostulation, was sorely disappointed that his -remarks fell so flat.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I see you intend to brazen it out,” he said crushingly. -“But you don’t deceive me. You may leave the room, and -take good care that all the arrangements to-night are properly -carried out.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, sir,” said Frithiof, with the quietness of one who -knows that he remains master of the situation. But afterward, -when he was once more in the shop, the insults returned to his -mind with full force, and lay rankling there for many a day to -come. Owing to the concert, his release came a little sooner -than usual, and it was not much after seven when Sigrid heard -<span class='pageno' id='Page_240'>240</span>him at the door. His face frightened her; it looked so worn -and harassed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You will have time for some supper?” she asked pleadingly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No,” he said, passing by her quickly, “I am not hungry, -and must change my clothes and be off again.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He might fancy some coffee,” said Sigrid to herself. -“Quick, Swanhild, run and get it ready while I boil the water. -There is nothing like strong <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">café noir</span></i> when one is tired out.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Perhaps it did him some good; and the glimpse of his home -certainly cheered him; yet, nevertheless, he was almost ready -that night to give up everything in despair.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Physical exhaustion had dulled the glow of inner comfort -that had come to him on the previous day. In his miserable -depression all his old doubts assailed him once more. Was -there any rule of justice after all? Was there anything in -heaven above, or in the earth beneath, but cruel lust of power, -and an absolute indifference to suffering? His old hatred -against those who succeeded once more filled his heart, and -though at one time he had felt curious to see Donati, and had -heard all that Cecil had to say in favor of the Italian’s courage -and unselfishness, yet now, in his bitterness of soul, he began -to hate the man merely because of his popularity.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I detest these conceited, set-up idols of the public,” he -thought to himself. “When all men speak well of a fellow it is -time to suspect him. His goodness and all the rest of it is probably -all calculation—a sort of advertisement!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The architects of most English music-halls have scant regard -for the comfort of the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">artistes</span></i>. It often used to strike Frithiof -as a strange thing that in the Albert Hall, singers, whose health -and strength were of priceless value, had to wait about in -draughty, sloping passages, on uncomfortable chairs, while at -St. James’s Hall they had only the option of marching up and -down a cold, stone staircase to the cloak-room between every -song, or of sitting in the dingy little den opening on to the platform -steps—a den which resembles a family pew in a meetinghouse. -Here, sitting face to face on hard benches, were -ranged to-night many of the first singers of the day. There -was Sardoni, the good-natured English tenor and composer. -There was Mme. Sardoni-Borelli, with her noble and striking -face and manner; besides a host of other celebrities, all the -more dear to the audience because for years and years they had -been giving their very best to the nation. But Carlo Donati had -not yet arrived, and Mr. Horner kept glancing anxiously through -<span class='pageno' id='Page_241'>241</span>the glass doors on to the staircase in hopes of catching sight of -the great baritone. Frithiof lived through it all like a man in a -dream, watched a young English tenor who was to make his -first appearance that night, saw him walking to and fro in a -tremendous state of nervousness, heard the poor fellow sing -badly enough, and watched him plunge down the steps again -amid the very faint applause of the audience. Next came the -turn of Mme. Sardoni-Borelli. Her husband handed her the -song she was to sing, she gave some directions to the accompanist -as to the key in which she wanted it played, and mounted -the platform with a composed dignity that contrasted curiously -with the manner of the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">débutant</span></i> who had preceded her. Mr. -Horner turned to Frithiof at that moment.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Go and see whether Signor Donati has come,” he said. -“His song is next on the programme.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ah,” said Sardoni, with a smile, “he is such a tremendous -fellow for home, he never comes a moment too soon, and at the -theater often runs it even closer than this. He is the quickest -dresser I ever knew, though, and is never behind time.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof made his way to the cloak room, and, as he walked -through the narrow room leading to it, he could distinctly hear -the words of some one within. The voice seemed familiar -to him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Badly received? Well, you only failed because of nervousness. -In your second song you will be more used to things, -and you will see, it will go much better.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But <em>you</em> surely can never have had the same difficulty to -struggle with?” said the young tenor, who, with a very downcast -face, stood talking to the newly arrived baritone.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Never!” exclaimed the other, with a laugh which rang -through the room, “Ask Sardoni! He’ll tell you of my first -appearance.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then, as Frithiof gave his message, the speaker turned round -and revealed to the Norwegian that face which had fascinated -him so strangely just before his illness—a face not only beautiful -in outline and coloring, but full of an undefined charm, -which made all theories as to the conceit and objectionableness -of successful men fall to the ground.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Thank you,” he said, bowing in reply; “I will come down -at once.” Then, turning again to the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">débutant</span></i> with a smile, -“You see, through failing to get that <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">encore</span></i> that you ought to -have deserved, you have nearly made me behind time. Never -mind, you will get a very hearty one in the second part to make -up. Come down with me, wont you. It is far better fun in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_242'>242</span>that family pew below than up here. Clinton Cleve is here, -isn’t he? Have you been introduced to him?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The young man replied in the negative; Frithiof perceived -that the idea had cheered him up wonderfully, and knew that -a word from the veteran tenor might be of great use to a -beginner.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I’ll introduce you,” said Donati as they went down the -stairs. Frithiof held open the swing-doors for them and -watched with no small curiosity the greeting between Donati -and the other <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">artistes</span></i>. His manner was so very simple that it -was hard to realize that he was indeed the man about whom all -Europe was raving; but nevertheless he had somehow brought -a sort of new atmosphere into the place, and even Mr. Horner -seemed conscious of this, for he was less fidgety and fussy than -usual, and even seemed willing to keep in the background. -There was a hearty greeting to Madame Sardoni as she came -down the steps and a brisk little conversation in the interval; -then, having wrapped her shawl about her again, talking brightly -all the while, Donati picked up his music and stepped on to -the platform. It was only then that Frithiof realized how great -was his popularity, for he was greeted rapturously, and certainly -he well merited the thunder of applause which broke forth -again at the close of a song which had been given with unrivaled -delicacy of expression and with all the charm of his -wonderful voice. For the time Frithiof forgot everything; -he was carried far away from all consciousness of disgrace and -wretchedness, far away from all recollection of Mr. Horner’s -presence; he could only look in astonishment and admiration -at the singer, who stood laughing and talking with Sardoni, -periodically mounting the platform to bow his acknowledgments -to the audience, who still kept up their storm of -applause. When at length he had convinced them that he did -not intend to sing again, he began to talk to Clinton Cleve, -and soon had won for the young <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">débutant</span></i> a few minutes’ kindly -talk with the good-natured old singer who, though he had been -the idol of the British public for many years, had not forgotten -the severe ordeal of a first appearance. The young tenor -brightened visibly, and when he sang again acquitted himself -so well that he won the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">encore</span></i> which Donati had prophesied.</p> - -<p class='c000'>All went smoothly until, early in the second part, the Italian -baritone was to sing a song with violin obligato. By some unlucky -accident Frithiof forgot to place the music-stand for the -violinist; and perceiving this as soon as they were on the -platform, Donati himself brought it forward and put it in position. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_243'>243</span>It was but a trifling occurrence, but quite sufficient to -rouse Mr. Horner. When the singer returned he apologized to -him profusely, and turned upon Frithiof with a rebuke, the -tone of which made Donati’s eyes flash.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Pray do not make so much of it,” he said, with a touch of -dignity in his manner. Then returning again from one of his -journeys to the platform, and noticing the expression of Frithiof’s -face, he paused to speak to him for a moment before -returning to give the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">encore</span></i> that was emphatically demanded. -It was not so much what he said as his manner of saying it -that caused Frithiof’s face to brighten, and brought a frown to -James Horner’s brow.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is merely my duty to enlighten Signor Donati,” said the -little man to himself—“merely my duty!”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XXVI' class='c005'>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>Carlo Donati had considerable insight into character; not -only had he been born with this gift, but his wandering life had -brought him into contact with all sorts and conditions of men, -and had been an excellent education to one who had always -known how to observe. He was, moreover, of so sympathetic -a temperament that he could generally tell in a moment -when trouble was in the air, and the ridiculously trivial affair -about the music-stand, which could not have dwelt in his mind -for a minute on its own account, opened his eyes to the relations -existing between Mr. Horner and the Norwegian. That something -was wrong with the latter he had perceived when Frithiof -had first spoken to him in the cloak-room, and now, having -inadvertently been the cause of bringing upon him a severe rebuke, -he was determined to make what amends lay in his power.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He cut short Mr. Horner’s flattering remarks and reiterated -apologies as to the slight <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">contretemps</span></i>.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is of no consequence at all,” he said. “By the by, what -is the nationality of that young fellow? I like his face.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He is Norwegian,” replied Mr. Horner, glancing at Frithiof, -who was arranging the platform for Madame Gauthier, the -pianiste.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You think, no doubt, that I spoke too severely to him just -now, but you do not realize what a worthless fellow he is. My -partner retains him merely out of charity, but he has been proved -to be unprincipled and dishonest.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The last few words reached Frithiof distinctly as he came down -<span class='pageno' id='Page_244'>244</span>the steps; he turned ghastly pale, his very lips grew white; it -was as though some one had stabbed him as he re-entered the -little room, and the eyes that turned straight to the eyes of the -Italian were full of a dumb anguish which Donati never forgot. -Indignant with the utter want of kindness and tact which Mr. -Horner had shown, he turned abruptly away without making -the slightest comment on the words; but often through the -evening, when Frithiof was engrossed in other things, Donati -quietly watched him, and the more he saw of him the less was -he able to believe in the truth of the accusation. Meantime he -was waiting for his opportunity, but he was unable to get a -word with the Norwegian until the end of the concert, when he -met him on the stairs.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Are you at liberty?” he asked. “Is your work here over?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof replied in the affirmative, and offered to look for -the great baritone’s carriage, imagining that this must be the -reason he had addressed him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, as, to the carriage!” said Donati easily, “it will be -waiting at the corner of Sackville Street. But I wanted a few -minutes’ talk with you, and first of all to apologize for having -been the unwilling hearer of that accusation, which I am quite -sure is false.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof’s clouded face instantly cleared; all the old brightness -returned for a moment to his frank blue eyes, and forgetful -of the fact that he was not in Norway, and that Donati was the -idolized public singer, he grasped the hand of the Italian with -that fervent, spontaneous gratitude which is so much more -eloquent than words.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Thank you,” he said simply.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, now, is it possible for an outsider to help in unraveling -the mystery?” said Donati. “For when a man like you -is accused in this way I take it for granted there must be a -mystery.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No one can possibly explain it,” said Frithiof, the troubled -look returning to his face. “I can’t tell in the least how the -thing happened, but appearances were altogether against me. -It is the most extraordinary affair, but God knows I had no -hand in it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I want to hear all about it,” said Donati with that eagerness -of manner and warmth of interest which made him so devotedly -loved by thousands. “I am leaving England to-morrow; can’t -you come back and have supper with me now, and let me hear -this just as it all happened?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Even if he had wished to refuse, Frithiof could hardly have -<span class='pageno' id='Page_245'>245</span>done so; and, as it was, he was so miserable that he would -have caught at much less hearty sympathy. They walked -along the crowded pavement toward Sackville Street, and had -almost reached the carriage when a conversation immediately -behind them became distinctly audible.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“They make such a fuss over this Donati,” said the speaker. -“But I happen to know that he’s a most disreputable character. -I was hearing all about him the other day from some one who -used to know him intimately. They say, you know, that—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Here the conversation died away in the distance, and what -that curse of modern society—the almighty “They”—said as -to Donati’s private affairs remained unknown to him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof glanced at the singer’s face. Apparently he had not -yet reached those sublime heights where insults cease from -troubling and slanders fail to sting. He was still young, and -naturally had the disadvantages as well as the immense gains -of a sensitive artistic temperament. A gleam of fierce anger -swept over his face, and was quickly succeeded by a pained -look that made Frithiof’s heart hot within him; in silence the -Italian opened the door of the carriage, signed to Frithiof to -get in, and they drove off together.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No matter,” said Donati in a minute, speaking reflectively, -and as if he were alone. “I do not sing for a gossiping public. -I sing for Christ.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But that they should dare to say such a thing as that!” -exclaimed Frithiof, growing more and more indignant as his -companion’s serenity returned.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“For one’s self,” said Donati, “it is—well—not much; but -for the sake of those belonging to one it certainly does carry a -sting. But every one who serves the public in a public capacity -is in the same boat. Statesmen, artists, authors, actors, all must -endure this plague of tongues. And, after all, it merely affects -one’s reputation, not one’s character. It doesn’t make one -immoral to be considered immoral, and it doesn’t make you a -thief to be considered dishonest. But now I want to hear -about this accusation of Mr. Horner’s. When did it all happen?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>In the dim light Frithiof told his story; it was a relief to tell -it to sympathetic ears; Donati’s faith in him seemed to fill him -with new life, and though the strange events of that miserable -Monday did not grow any clearer in the telling, yet somehow -a rope began to dawn in his heart.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It certainly is most unaccountable,” said Donati, as the -carriage drew up before a pretty little villa in Avenue Road. -He paused to speak to the coachman. “We shall want the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_246'>246</span>carriage in time to go to the 9.40 train at Charing Cross, -Wilson; good-night.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But if you start so early,” said Frithiof, “I had better not -hinder you any longer.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You do not hinder me; I am very much interested. You -must certainly come in to supper, and afterward I want to -hear more about this. How unlucky it was that the five-pound -note should have been changed that day by Sardoni!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>At this moment the door was opened; Frithiof caught a -vision of a slim figure in a pale rose-colored tea gown, and -the loveliest face he had ever seen was raised to kiss Donati as -he entered.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How nice and early you are!” exclaimed a fresh, merry -voice. Then, catching sight of a stranger, and blushing a little, -she added, “I fancied it was Jack and Domenica you were -bringing back with you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Let me introduce you to my wife, Herr Falck,” said Donati, -and Frithiof instantly understood that here lay the explanation -of the Italian’s faultless English, since, despite her foreign -name, it was impossible for a moment to mistake Francesca -Donati’s nationality.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The house was prettily, but very simply, furnished, and about -it there was that indefinable air of home that Frithiof had so -often noticed in Rowan Tree House.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You must forgive a very unceremonious supper, Herr -Falck,” said Francesca, herself making ready the extra place -that was needed at table. “But the fact is, I have sent all the -servants to bed, for I knew they would have to be up early to-morrow, -and they feel the traveling a good deal.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Much more than you and I do,” said Donati. “We have -grown quite hardened to it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then this is not your regular home?” asked Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, it is our English home. We generally have five months -here and five at Naples, with the rest of the time either at Paris, -or Berlin, or Vienna. After all, a wandering life makes very -little difference when you can carry about your home with you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And baby is the best traveler in the world,” said Donati, -“and in every way the most model baby. I think,” glancing -at his wife, “that she is as true a gipsy as Gigi himself.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Poor Gigi! he can’t bear being left behind! By the by, -had you time to take him back to school before the concert, or -did he go alone?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I had just time to take him,” said Donati, waiting upon -Frithiof as he talked. “He was rather doleful, poor old man; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_247'>247</span>but cheered up when I told him that he was to spend the summer -holidays at Merlebank, and to come to Naples at Christmas. -It is a nephew of mine of whom we speak,” he explained to -Frithiof; “and, of course, his education has to be thought of, -and cannot always fit in with my engagements. You go in -very much for education in Norway, I understand?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof found himself talking quite naturally and composedly -about Norwegian customs and his former life, and it was not -until afterward that it struck him as a strange thing that on -the very day after his disgrace, when, but for Mr. Boniface’s -kindness he might actually have been in prison, he should be -quietly, and even for the time happily, talking of the old days. -Nor was it until afterward that he realized how much his -interview with the great baritone would have been coveted by -many in a very different position; for Donati would not go -into London society though it was longing to lionize him. His -wife did not care for it, and he himself said that with his art, -his home, and his own intimate friends, no time was left for -the wearing gayeties of the season. The world grumbled, but -he remained resolute, for though always ready to help any one -who was in trouble, and without the least touch of exclusiveness -about him, he could not endure the emptiness and wastefulness -of the fashionable world. Moreover, while applause that was -genuinely called forth by his singing never failed to give him -great pleasure, the flatteries of celebrity-hunters were intolerable -to him, so that he lost nothing and gained much by the quiet -life which he elected to lead. It was said of the great actor -Phelps that “His theater and his home were alike sacred to -him as the Temple of God.” And the same might well have -been said of Donati, while something of the calm of the Temple -seemed to lurk about the quiet little villa, where refinement -and comfort reigned supreme, but where no luxuries were -admitted. Francesca had truly said that the wandering life -made very little difference to them, for wherever they went -they made for themselves that ideal home which has been -beautifully described as</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“A world of strife shut out,</div> - <div class='line'>A world of love shut in.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>They did not linger long over the supper-table, for Frithiof -was suffering too much to eat, and Donati, like most of his -countrymen, had a very small appetite. Francesca with a -kindly good-night to the Norwegian went upstairs to her baby, -and the two men drew their chairs up to the open French -<span class='pageno' id='Page_248'>248</span>window at the back of the room looking on to the little garden -to which the moonlight gave a certain mysterious charm.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have thought over it,” said Donati, almost abruptly, and -as if the matter might naturally engross his thoughts as much -as those of his companion. “But I can’t find the very slightest -clue. It is certainly a mystery.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And must always remain so,” said Frithiof despairingly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I do not think that at all. Some day all will probably be -explained. And be sure to let me hear when it is, for I shall -be anxious to know.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>A momentary gleam of hope crossed Frithiof’s face, but the -gloom quickly returned.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It will never be explained,” he said. “I was born under -an unlucky star; at the very moment when all seems well -something has always interfered to spoil my life; and with my -father it was exactly the same—it was an undeserved disgrace -that actually killed him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And then, to his own astonishment, he found himself telling -Donati, bit by bit, the whole of his own story. The Italian -said very little, but he listened intently, and in truth possessed -exactly the right characteristics for a confidant—rare sympathy, -tact, and absolute faithfulness. To speak out freely to such a -man was the best thing in the world for Frithiof, and Donati, -who had himself had to battle with a sea of troubles, understood -him as a man who had suffered less could not possibly have -done.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is to this injustice,” said Frithiof, as he ended his tale, -“to this unrighteous success of the mercenary and scheming, -and failure of the honorable, that Christianity tells one to be -resigned. It is that which sets me against religion—which -makes it all seem false and illogical—actually immoral.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Probably Donati would not even have alluded to religion -had not his companion himself introduced the subject. It -was not his way to say much on such topics, but when he did -speak his words came with most wonderful directness and force. -It was not so much that he said anything noteworthy or novel, -but that his manner had about it such an intensity of conviction, -such rare unconsciousness, and such absolute freedom -from all conventionality. “Pardon me, if I venture to show -you a flaw in your argument,” he said quietly. “You say we are -told to be resigned. Very well. But what is resignation? It -was well defined once by a noble Russian writer who said that it -is ‘placing God between ourselves and our trouble.’ There is -nothing illogical in that. It is the merest common-sense. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_249'>249</span>When finite things worry and perplex you, turn to the Infinite -from which they may be safely and peacefully viewed.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof thought of those words which had involuntarily -escaped his companion after the remark of the passer-by in Piccadilly—“No -matter!—I do not sing for a gossiping world.” -He began to understand Donati better—he longed with an -intensity of longing to be able to look at life with such eyes -as his.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“These things are so real to you,” he said quickly. “But -to me they are only a hope—or, if for an hour or two real, they -fade away again. It may be all very well for you in your successful -happy life, but it is impossible for me with everything -against me.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Impossible!” exclaimed Donati, his eyes flashing, and with -something in his tone which conveyed volumes to the Norwegian.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If not impossible at any rate very difficult,” he replied.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, yes,” said Donati, his eyes full of sympathy. “It is -that to all of us. Don’t think I make light of your difficulties. -It is hard to seek God in uncongenial surroundings, in a life -harassed and misunderstood, and in apparent failure. But—don’t -let the hardness daunt you—just go on.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The words were commonplace enough, but they were full of -a wonderful power because there lurked beneath them the -assurance—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“I have been through where ye must go;</div> - <div class='line'>I have seen past the agony.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you know,” said Frithiof, smiling, “that is almost what -you said to me the first time I saw you. You have forgotten it, -but a year ago you said a few words to me which kept me from -making an end of myself in a fit of despair. Do you remember -coming to the shop about a song of Knight’s?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why yes,” said Donati. “Was that really you? It all -comes back to me now—I remember you found the song for me -though I had only the merest scrap of it, without the composer’s -name.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It was just before my illness,” said Frithiof. “I never -forgot you, and recognized you the moment I saw you to-night. -Somehow you saved my life then just by giving me a hope.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Perhaps no greater contrast could have been found than -these two men who, by what seemed a mere chance, had been -thrown together so strangely. But Donati almost always -attracted to himself men of an opposite type; as a rule it was -not the religious public that understood him or appreciated -him best, it was the men of the world, and those with whom -<span class='pageno' id='Page_250'>250</span>he came in contact in his professional life. To them his character -appealed in a wonderful way, and many who would have -been ashamed to show any enthusiasm as a rule, made an exception -in favor of this man, who had somehow fascinated -them and compelled them into a belief in goodness little in -accord with the cynical creed they professed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>To Frithiof in his wretchedness, in his despairing rebellion -against a fate which seemed relentlessly to pursue him, the -Italian’s faith came with all the force of a new revelation. He -saw that the success, for which but a few hours ago he had cordially -hated the great singer, came from no caprice of fortune, -but from the way in which Donati had used his gifts; nor had -the Italian all at once leapt into fame, he had gone through a -cruelly hard apprenticeship, and had suffered so much that not -even the severe test of extreme popularity, wealth, and personal -happiness could narrow his sympathies, for all his life he would -carry with him the marks of a past conflict—a conflict which -had won for him the name of the “Knight-errant.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The same single-hearted, generous nature which had fitted -him for that past work, fitted him now to be Frithiof’s friend. -For men like Donati are knights-errant all their life long, they -do not need a picturesque cause, or seek a paying subject, but -just travel through the world, succoring those with whom -they come in contact. The troubles of the Norwegian in his -prosaic shop-life were as much to Donati as the troubles of any -other man would have been; position and occupation were, to -him, very insignificant details; he did not expend the whole of -his sympathies on the sorrows of East London, and shut his -heart against the griefs of the rich man at the West End; nor -was he so engrossed with his poor Neapolitans that he could -not enter into the difficulties of a London shopman. He saw -that Frithiof was one of that great multitude who, through the -harshness and injustice of the world, find it almost impossible -to retain their faith in God, and, through the perfidy of one -woman, are robbed of the best safeguard that can be had in -life. His heart went out to the man, and the very contrast of -his present life with its intense happiness quickened his sympathies. -But what he said Frithiof never repeated to any one, -he could not have done it even had he cared to try. When at -length he rose to go Donati had, as it were, saved him from -moral death, had drawn him out of the slough of despond, and -started him with renewed hope on his way.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Wait just one moment,” he said, as they stood by the door; -“I will give you one of my cards and write on it the Italian -<span class='pageno' id='Page_251'>251</span>address. There! <i><span lang="it" xml:lang="it">Villa Valentino, Napoli.</span></i> Don’t forget to -write and tell me when this affair is all cleared up.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof grasped his hand, and, again thanking him, passed -out into the quiet, moonlit street.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XXVII' class='c005'>CHAPTER XXVII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>The events of Monday had cast a shadow over Rowan-Tree -House. Cecil no longer sang as she went to and fro, Mr. Boniface -was paying the penalty of a stormy interview late on -Monday evening with his partner, and was not well enough to -leave his room, and Mrs. Boniface looked grave and sad, for -she foresaw the difficulties in which Frithiof’s disgrace would -involve others.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I wish Roy had been at home,” she said to her daughter as, -on the Wednesday afternoon, they sat together in the verandah.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil looked up for a moment from the little frock which she -was making for Gwen.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If he had been at home, I can’t help thinking that this never -would have happened,” she said. “And I have a sort of hope -that he will find out some explanation of it all.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My dear, what explanation can there be but the one that -satisfies your father?” said Mrs. Boniface. “Frithiof must have -taken it in a fit of momentary aberration. But the whole -affair shows that he is not so strong yet as we fancied, and I -fear is a sign that all his life he will feel the effects of his illness. -It is that which makes me so sorry for them all.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I do not believe that he took it,” said Cecil. “Nothing will -ever make me believe that.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She stitched away fast at the little frock, in a sudden panic, -lest the tears which burned in her eyes should attract her -mother’s notice. Great regret and sympathy she might allow -herself to show, for Frithiof was a friend and a favorite of -every one in the house; but of the grief that filled her heart -she must allow no trace to be seen, for it would make her mother -miserable to guess at the extent of her unhappiness.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Did you see him last night at the concert?” asked Mrs. -Boniface.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” said Cecil, choking back her tears; “just when he -arranged the platform. He was looking very ill and worn.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That is what I am so afraid of. He will go worrying over -this affair, and it is the very worst thing in the world for him. -I wish your father were better, and I would go and have a talk -<span class='pageno' id='Page_252'>252</span>with Sigrid; but I hardly like to leave the house. How would -it be, dearie, if you went up and saw them?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I should like to go,” said Cecil quickly. “But it is no use -being there before seven, for Madame Lechertier has her classes -so much later in this hot weather.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, go up at seven, then, and have a good talk with her; -make her understand that we none of us think a bit the worse -of him for it, and that we are vexed with Cousin James for -having been so disagreeable and harsh. You might, if you like, -go to meet Roy; he comes back at half-past eight, and he will -bring you home again.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil cheered up a good deal at this idea; she took Lance -round the garden with her, that he might help her to gather -flowers for Sigrid, and even smiled a little when of his own accord -the little fellow brought her a beautiful passion-flower -which he had gathered from the house wall.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“This one’s for my dear Herr Frithiof!” he exclaimed, -panting a little with the exertions he had made to reach it. “It’s -all for his own self, and I picked it for him, ’cause it’s his very -favorite.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You know, Cecil,” said her mother, as she returned to the -seat under the verandah and began to arrange the flowers in -a basket, “I have another theory as to this affair. It happened -exactly a week after that day at the seaside when we all had -such a terrible fright about Roy and Sigrid. Frithiof had a -long run in the sun, which you remember was very hot that day; -then he had all the excitement of rowing out and rescuing them, -and though at the time it seemed no strain on him at all, yet I -think it is quite possible that the shock may have brought back -a slight touch of the old trouble.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And yet it seemed to do him good at the time,” said Cecil. -“He looked so bright and fresh when he came back. Besides, -to a man accustomed as he once was to a very active life, -the rescue was, after all, no such great exertion.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mrs. Boniface sighed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It would grieve me to think that it was really caused by -that, but if it is so, there is all the more reason that they should -clearly understand that the affair makes no difference at all in -our opinion of him. It is just possible that it may be his meeting -with Lady Romiaux which is the cause. Sigrid told me -they had accidentally come across her again, and that it had -tried him very much.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil turned away to gather some ferns from the rockery; -she could not bear to discuss that last suggestion. Later on in -<span class='pageno' id='Page_253'>253</span>the afternoon it was with a very heavy heart that she reached -the model lodgings and knocked at the door that had now -become so familiar to her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Swanhild flew to greet her with her usual warmth. It was -easy to see that the child knew nothing of the trouble hanging -over the house. “What lovely flowers! How good of you!” -she cried.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But Sigrid could not speak: she only kissed her, then turned -to Swanhild and the flowers once more.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“They are beautiful,” she said. “Don’t you think we might -spare some for Mrs. Hallifield? Run and take her some, dear.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>When the child ran off she drew Cecil into their bedroom. -The two girls sat down together on the bed, but Sigrid, usually -the one to do most of the talking, was silent and dejected. Cecil -saw at once that she must take the initiative.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have been longing to come and see you,” she said. “But -yesterday was so filled up. Father and mother are so sorry for -all this trouble, and are very much vexed that Mr. Horner has -behaved badly about it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“They are very kind,” said Sigrid wearily. “Of course most -employers would have prosecuted Frithiof, or, at any rate, discharged -him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But, Sigrid, what can be the explanation of it? Oh, surely -we can manage to find out somehow! Who can have put the -note in his pocket?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What!” cried Sigrid. “Do not you, too, hold Mr. Boniface’s -opinion, and think that he himself did it unintentionally?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I!” cried Cecil passionately. “Never! never! I am quite -sure he had nothing whatever to do with it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid flung her arms round her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, how I love you for saying that!” she exclaimed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was the first real comfort that had come to her since their -trouble, and, although before Frithiof she was brave and cheerful, -in his absence she became terribly anxious and depressed. -But with the comfort there came a fresh care, for something -at that moment revealed to her Cecil’s secret. Perhaps it was -the burning cheek, that was pressed to hers, or perhaps a sort -of thrill in her companion’s voice as she spoke those vehement -words, and declared her perfect faith in Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The thought filled her with hot indignation against Blanche. -“Has she not only spoilt Frithiof’s life, but Cecil’s too?” she -said to herself. And in despair she looked on into the future, -and back into the sad past. “If it had not been for Blanche -he might have loved her—I think he would have loved her -<span class='pageno' id='Page_254'>254</span>And oh! how happy she would have made him! how different -his whole life would have been! But now, with disgrace, and -debt, and broken health, all that is impossible for him. Blanche -has robbed him, too, of the very power of loving; she has -cheated him out of his heart. Her hateful flirting has ruined -the happiness of two people, probably of many more, for Frithiof -was not the only man whom she deceived. Oh! why does -God give women the power to bring such misery into the -world?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She was recalled from her angry thoughts by Cecil’s voice; -it was sweet and gentle again now, and no longer vehement.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you know, Sigrid,” she said, “I have great hopes in -Roy. He will be home to-night, and he will come to it all like -an outsider, and I think, perhaps, he will throw some light on -the mystery. I shall meet him at Charing Cross, and as we -drive home, will tell him just what happened.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Is it to-night he comes home?” said Sigrid, with a depth of -relief in her tone. “Oh, how glad I am! But there is Swanhild -back again. You wont say anything before her, for we -have not mentioned it to her; there seemed no reason why she -should be made unhappy, and Frithiof likes to feel that one person -is unharmed by his trouble.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, one can understand that,” said Cecil. “And Swanhild -is such a child, one would like to shelter her from all unhappiness. -Are you sure that you don’t mind my staying. -Would you not rather be alone to-night?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, no, no,” said Sigrid. “Do stay to supper. It will -show Frithiof that you do not think any the worse of him for -this—it will please him so much.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>They went back to the sitting-room and began to prepare -the evening meal; and when, presently, Frithiof returned from -his work, the first thing he caught sight of on entering the room -was Cecil’s sweet, open-looking face. She was standing by the -table arranging flowers, but came forward quickly to greet him. -Her color was a little deeper than usual, her hand-clasp a little -closer, but otherwise she behaved exactly as if nothing unusual -had happened.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have most unceremoniously asked myself to supper,” -she said, “for I have to meet Roy at half-past eight.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is very good of you to come,” said Frithiof gratefully.</p> - -<p class='c000'>His interview with Carlo Donati had done much for him, -and had helped him through a very trying day at the shop, but -though he had made a good start and had begun his new life -bravely, and borne many disagreeables patiently, yet he was -<span class='pageno' id='Page_255'>255</span>now miserably tired and depressed, just in the mood which -craves most for human sympathy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Lance sent you this,” she said, handing him the passion-flower -and making him smile by repeating the child’s words.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He seemed touched and pleased; and the conversation at -supper-time turned a good deal on the children. He asked -anxiously after Mr. Boniface, and then they discussed the concert -of the previous night, and he spoke a little of Donati’s kindness -to him. Then, while Sigrid and Swanhild were busy in -the kitchen, she told him what she knew of Donati’s previous -life, and how it was that he had gained this extraordinary power -of sympathy and insight.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I never met any one like him,” said Frithiof. “He is a -hero and a saint, if ever there was one, yet without one touch -of the asceticism which annoys one in most good people. That -the idol of the operatic stage should be such a man as that -seems to me wonderful.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You mean because the life is a trying one?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes; because such very great popularity might be supposed -to make a man conceited, and such an out-of-the-way voice -might make him selfish and heedless of others, and to be so -much run after might make him consider himself above ordinary -mortals, instead of being ready, as he evidently is, to be -the friend of any one who is in need.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am so glad you like him, and that you saw so much of -him,” said Cecil. “I wonder if you would just see me into a -cab now, for I ought to be going.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He was pleased that she had asked him to do this; and when -she had said good-by to Sigrid and Swanhild, and was once -more alone with him, walking through the big court-yard, he -could not resist alluding to it.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is good of you,” he said, “to treat me as though I were -under no cloud. You have cheered me wonderfully.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh,” she said, “it is not good of me—you must not think -that I believe you under a cloud at all. Nothing would ever -make me believe that you had anything whatever to do with -that five-pound note. It is a mystery that will some day be -cleared up.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That is what Signor Donati said. He, too, believed in me -in spite of appearances being against me. And Sigrid says the -same. With three people on my side I can wait more patiently.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil had spoken very quietly, and quite without the passionate -vehemence which had betrayed her secret to Sigrid, for -now she was on her guard; but her tone conveyed to Frithiof -<span class='pageno' id='Page_256'>256</span>just the trust and friendliness which she wished it to convey; -and he went home again with a fresh stock of hope and courage -in his heart.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Meanwhile Cecil paced gravely up and down the arrival platform -at Charing Cross. She, too, had been cheered by their -interview, but, nevertheless, the baffling mystery haunted her -continually, and in vain she racked her mind for any solution -of the affair. Perhaps the anxiety had already left its traces on -her face, for Roy at once noticed a change in her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, Cecil, what has come over you? You are not looking -well,” he said, as they got into a hansom and set off on their -long drive.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Father has not been well,” she said, in explanation. “And -I think we have all been rather upset by something that happened -on Monday afternoon in the shop.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then she told him exactly what had passed, and waited -hopefully for his comments on the story. He knitted his brows -in perplexity.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I wish I had been at home,” he said. “If only James -Horner had not gone ferreting into it all this would never have -happened. Frithiof would have discovered his mistake, and -all would have been well.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But you don’t imagine that Frithiof put the note in his -pocket?” said Cecil, her heart sinking down in deep disappointment.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, who else could have put it there? Of course he must -have done it in absence of mind. Probably the excitement and -strain of that unlucky afternoon at Britling Gap affected his -brain in some way.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I cannot think that,” she said, in a low voice. “And, even -if it were so, that is the last sort of thing he would do.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But that is just the way when people’s brains are affected, -they do the most unnatural things; it is a known fact that young -innocent girls will often in delirium use the most horrible language -such as in real life they cannot possibly have heard. -Your honest man is quite likely under the circumstances to -become a thief. Is not this the view that my father takes?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” said Cecil. “But somehow—I thought—I hoped—that -you would have trusted him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It doesn’t in the least affect my opinion of his character. -He was simply not himself when he did it. But one can’t -doubt such evidence as that. The thing was missed from the -till and found pinned into his pocket; how can any reasonable -being doubt that he himself put it there?”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_257'>257</span>“It may be unreasonable to refuse to believe it—I cannot -help that,” said Cecil.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But how can it possibly be explained on any other supposition?” -he urged, a little impatiently.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t know,” said Cecil; “at present it is a mystery. But -I am as sure that he did not put it there as that I did not put it -there.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Women believe what they wish to believe, and utterly disregard -logic,” said Roy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is not only women who believe in him. Carlo Donati -has gone most carefully into every detail, and he believes -in him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then I wish he would give me his recipe,” said Roy, with -a sigh. “I am but a matter-of-fact, prosaic man of business, -and cannot make myself believe that black is white, however -much I wish it. Have you seen Miss Falck? Is she very -much troubled about it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, she is so afraid that he will worry himself ill; but, -of course, she too believes in him. I think she suspects the -other man in the shop, Darnell—but I don’t see how he can -have anything to do with it, I must own.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>There was a silence. Cecil looked sadly at the passers-by, -lovers strolling along happily in the cool of the evening, workers -just set free from the long day’s toil, children reveling in the -fresh sweet air. How very brief was the happiness and rest as -compared to the hard, wearing drudgery of most of those lives! -Love perhaps brightened a few minutes of each day, but in the -outside world there was no love, no justice, nothing but a hard, -grinding competition, while Sorrow and Sin, Sickness and Death -hovered round, ever ready to pounce upon their victims. It -was unlike her to look so entirely on the dark side of things, but -Frithiof’s persistent ill-luck had depressed her, and she was -disappointed by Roy’s words. Perhaps it was unreasonable of -her to expect him to share her view of the affair, but somehow -she had expected it, and now there stole into her heart a dreary -sense that everything was against the man she loved. In her -sheltered happy home, where a bitter word was never heard, -where the family love glowed so brightly that all the outside -world was seen through its cheering rays, sad thoughts of the -strength of evil seldom came, there was ever present so strong -a witness for the infinitely greater power of love. But driving -now along these rather melancholy roads, weighed down by -Frithiof’s trouble; a sort of hopelessness seized her, the thought -of the miles and miles of houses all round, each one representing -<span class='pageno' id='Page_258'>258</span>several troubled, struggling lives, made her miserable. Personal -trouble helps us afterward to face the sorrows of humanity, -and shows us how we may all in our infinitesimal way help -to brighten other lives—take something from the world’s great -load of pain and evil. But at first there must be times of deadly -depression, and in these it is perhaps impossible not to yield a -little for the moment to the despairing thought that evil is rampant -and all-powerful. Poverty, and sin, and temptation are -so easily visible everywhere, and to be ever conscious of the -great unseen world encompassing us, and of Him who makes -both seen and unseen to work together for good, is not easy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil Boniface, like every one else in this world, had, in spite -of her ideal home, in spite of all the comforts that love and -money could give her, to “dree her weird.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XXVIII' class='c005'>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>If Roy had seemed unsympathetic as they drove home it was -not because he did not feel keenly. He was indeed afraid to -show how keenly he felt, and he would have given almost anything -to have been able honestly to say that he, too, believed -in some unexplained mystery which should entirely free his -friend from reproach. But he could not honestly believe in -such a thing—it would have been as easy to him to believe in -the existence of fairies and hobgoblins. Since no such thing -as magic existed, and since Darnell had never been an assistant -of Maskelyne and Cooke, he could not believe that he had -anything to do with the five-pound note. Assuredly no one -but Frithiof could have taken it out of the till and carefully -pinned it to the lining of his waistcoat pocket. The more he -thought over the details of the story, the more irrational seemed -his sister’s blind faith. And yet his longing to share in her -views chafed and irritated him as he realized the impossibility.</p> - -<p class='c000'>His mind was far too much engrossed to notice Cecil much, -and that, perhaps, was a good thing, for just then in her great -dejection any ordinarily acute observer could not have failed -to read her story. But Roy, full of passionate love for Sigrid, -and of hot indignation with James Horner for having been the -instrument of bringing about all this trouble, was little likely to -observe other people.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Why had he ever gone to Paris? he wondered angrily, when -his father or James Horner could have seen to the business -there quite as well. He had gone partly because he liked the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_259'>259</span>change, and partly because he was thankful for anything that -would fill up the wretched time while he waited for Sigrid’s -definite reply to his proposal. But now he blamed himself for -his restlessness, and was made miserable by the perception that -had he chosen differently all would have now been well.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He slept little that night, and went up to business the next -morning in anything but a pleasant frame of mind, for he could -hardly resist his longing to go straight to Sigrid, and see how -things were with her. When he entered the shop Darnell was -in his usual place at the left-hand counter, but Frithiof was arranging -some songs on a stand in the center, and Roy was at -once struck by a change that had come over him; he could not -define it, but he felt that it was not in this way that he had -expected to find the Norwegian after a trouble which must -have been so specially galling to his pride. “How are you?” -he said, grasping his hand; but it was impossible before others -to say what was really in his heart, and it was not till an hour -or two later that they had any opportunity of really speaking -together. Then it chanced that Frithiof came into his room -with a message.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There is a Mr. Carruthers waiting to speak to you,” he -said, handing him a card; “he has two manuscript songs which -he wishes to submit to you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Tell him I am engaged,” said Roy. “And that as for -songs, we have enough to last us for the next two years.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“They are rather good; he has shown them to me. You -might just glance through them,” suggested Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I shall write a book some day on the sorrows of a music-publisher!” -said Roy. “How many thousands of composers -do you think there can be in this overcrowded country? No, -I’ll not see the man; I’m in too bad a temper; but you can -just bring in the songs, and I will look at them and talk to you -at the same time.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof returned in a minute, carrying the neat manuscripts -which meant so much to the composer and so little, alas! to -the publisher. Roy glanced through the first.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The usual style of thing,” he said. “Moon, man, and -maid, rill and hill, quarrel, kisses—all based on ‘So the Story -Goes.’ I don’t think this is worth sending to the reader. -What’s the other? Words by Swinburne: ‘If Love were what -the Rose is.’ Yes, you are right; this one is original; I rather -like that refrain. We will send it to Martino and see what he -thinks of it. Tell Mr. Carruthers that he shall hear about it -in a month or two. And take him back this moonlight affair. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_260'>260</span>Don’t go yet; he can wait on tenter-hooks a little longer. Of -course they have told me at home about all this fuss on Monday, -and I want you to promise me one thing.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What is that?” said Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That you wont worry about this miserable five-pound note. -That, if you ever think of it again, you will remember that my -father and I both regard the accident as if it had never happened.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then you too take his view of the affair?” said Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, it seems to me the only reasonable one; but don’t let -us talk of a thing that is blotted out and done away. It makes -no difference whatever to me, and you must promise that you -wont let it come between us.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are very good,” said Frithiof sadly; and, remembering -the hopelessness of arguing with one who took this view of his -trouble, he said no more, but went back to the poor composer, -whose face lengthened when he saw that his hands were not -empty, but brightened into radiant hope as Frithiof explained -that one song would really have the rare privilege of being -actually looked at. Being behind the scenes, he happened to -know that the vast majority of songs sent to the firm remained -for a few weeks in the house, and were then wrapped up again -and returned without even being glanced at. His intervention -had, at any rate, saved Mr. Carruthers from that hard fate.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And yet, poor fellow,” he reflected, “even if he does get -his song published it is a hundred to one that it will fall flat -and never do him any good at all; where one succeeds a thousand -fail; that seems the law of the world, and I am one of the -thousand. I wonder what is the use of it all!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Some lines that Donati had quoted to him returned to his -mind:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Glorious it is to wear the crown</div> - <div class='line in2'>Of a deserved and pure success;</div> - <div class='line'>He that knows how to fail has won</div> - <div class='line in2'>A crown whose luster is not less.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>His reflections were interrupted by the entrance of two customers, -evidently a very recently married couple, who had come -to choose a piano. Once again he had to summon Roy, who -stood patiently discoursing on the various merits of different -makers until at last the purchase had been made. Then, unable -any longer to resist the feverish impatience which had been -consuming him for so long, he snatched up his hat, left word -with Frithiof that he should be absent for an hour, and getting -into a hansom drove straight to the model lodgings.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_261'>261</span>He felt a curious sense of incongruity as he walked across -the court-yard; this great business-like place was, as Sigrid had -once said, very much like a hive. An air of industry and orderliness -pervaded it, and Roy, in his eager impatience, felt as if -he had no right there at all. This feeling cast a sort of chill -over his happiness as he knocked at the familiar door. A voice -within bade him enter, and, emerging from behind the Japanese -screen, he found Sigrid hard at work ironing. She wore a large -brown holland apron and bib over her black dress, her sleeves -were turned back, revealing her round, white arms up to the -elbow, and the table was strewn with collars and cuffs.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I thought it was Mrs. Hallifield come to scrub the kitchen,” -she exclaimed, “or I should not have cried ‘Come in!’ so unceremoniously. -Cecil told us you were expected last night.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Will you forgive me for coming at this hour?” he began -eagerly. “I knew it was the only time I was sure to find you -at home, and I couldn’t rest till I had seen you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It was very good of you to come,” she said, coloring a little; -“you wont mind if I just finish my work while we talk?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The ironing might, in truth, have waited very well; but -somehow it relieved her embarrassment to sprinkle and arrange -and iron the “fine things” which, from motives of economy, -she washed herself.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have seen Frithiof,” he said, rather nervously. “He is -looking better than I had expected after such an annoyance.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You have spoken to him about it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Only for a minute or two. After all, what is there to say -but that the whole affair must be forgotten, and never again -mentioned by a soul. I want so to make you understand that -it is to us nothing at all, that it is ridiculous to suppose that it -can affect our thoughts of him. It was the sort of thing that -might happen to any one after such an illness.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid looked up at him. There was the same depth of disappointment -in her expression as there had been in Cecil’s.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You take that view of it,” she said slowly. “Somehow I -had hoped you would have been able to find the true explanation.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If there were any other you surely know that I would seek -for it with all my might,” said Roy. “But I do not see how -any other explanation can possibly exist.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She sighed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are disappointed,” he said. “You thought I should -have taken the view that Carlo Donati takes. I only wish I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_262'>262</span>could. But, you see, my nature is more prosaic. I can’t make -myself believe a thing when all the evidences are against it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am not blaming you,” said Sigrid. “It is quite natural, -and of course most employers would have taken a far harder -view of the matter, and turned Frithiof off at a moment’s notice. -You and Mr. Boniface have been very kind.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Don’t speak like that,” he exclaimed. “How can you -speak of kindness as between us? You know that Frithiof is -like a brother to me.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No,” she said; “you are mistaken. I know that you are -fond of him; but, if he were like a brother to you, then you -would understand him; you would trust him through everything -as I do.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Perhaps she was unreasonable. But then she was very unhappy -and very much agitated; and women are not always -reasonable, or men either, for that matter.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sigrid,” he said passionately, “you are not going to let this -come between us? You know that I love you with all my heart, -you know that I would do anything in the world for you, but -even for love of you I cannot make myself believe that black -is white.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am not reproaching you because you do not think as -we think,” she said quickly. “But in one way this must come -between us.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Hush!” he said imploringly; “wait a little longer. I will -not to-day ask you for your answer; I will wait as long as you -please; but don’t speak now while your mind is full of this -trouble.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If I do not speak now, when do you think I shall be more -at leisure?” she asked coldly. “Oh! it seems a light thing to -you, and you are kind, and pass it over, and hush it up, but -you don’t realize how bitter it is to a Norwegian to have such -a shadow cast on his honesty. Do you think that even if you -forget it we can forget? Do you think that the other men in -the shop hold your view? Do you think that Mr. Horner -agrees with you?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Perhaps not. What do I care for them?” said Roy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No; that is just it. To you it is a matter of indifference, -but to Frithiof it is just a daily torture. And you would have -me think of happiness while he is miserable! You would have -me go and leave him when at any moment he may break down -again!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I would never ask you to leave him,” said Roy. “Our -marriage would not at all involve that. It would be a proof to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_263'>263</span>him of how little this wretched business affects my opinion of -him; it would prove to all the world that we don’t regard it as -anything but the merest accident.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you think the world would be convinced?” said Sigrid, -very bitterly. “I will tell you what it would say. It would say -that I had so entangled you that you could not free yourself, -and that, in spite of Frithiof’s disgrace, you were obliged to -marry me. And that shall never be said.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“For heaven’s sake don’t let the miserable gossip, the worthless -opinion of outsiders, make our lives miserable. What do we -care for the world? It is nothing to us. Let them say what -they will; so long as they only say lies what difference does it -make to us?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You don’t know what you are talking about,” she said, and -for the first time the tears rushed to her eyes. “Your life has -been all sheltered and happy. But out there in Bergen I have -had to bear coldness and contempt and the knowledge that even -death did not shield my father from the poisonous tongues of -the slanderers. Lies can’t make the things they say true, but -do you think that lies have no power to harm you? no power -to torture you? Oh! before you say that you should just -try.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her words pierced his heart; the more he realized the difficulties -of her life the more intolerable grew the longing to help -her, to shield her, to defy the opinion of outsiders for her sake.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But don’t you see,” he urged, “that it is only a form of -pride which you are giving way to? It is only that which is -keeping us apart.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And what if it is,” she replied, her eyes flashing. “A -woman has a right to be proud in such matters. Besides, it is -not only pride. It is that I can’t think of happiness while -Frithiof is miserable. My first duty is to him; and how could -I flaunt my happiness in his face? how could I now bring back -to him the remembrance of all his past troubles?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“At least wait,” pleaded Roy, once more; “at least let me -once more ask your final answer a few months hence.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I will wait until Frithiof’s name is cleared,” she said passionately. -“You may ask me again then, not before.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then seeing the despair in his face her strength all at once -gave way, she turned aside trying to hide her tears. He stood -up and came toward her, her grief gave him fresh hope and -courage.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sigrid,” he said, “I will not urge you any more. It shall -be as you wish. Other men have had to wait. I suppose I, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_264'>264</span>too, can bear it. I only ask one thing, tell me this once that -you love me.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He saw the lovely color flood her cheek, she turned toward -him silently but with all her soul in her eyes. For a minute he -held her closely, and just then it was impossible that he could -realize the hopelessness of the case. Strong with the rapture -of the confession she had made, it was not then, nor indeed for -many hours after, that cold despair gripped his heart once -more. She loved him—he loved her with the whole strength of -his being. Was it likely that a miserable five-pound note could -for ever divide them? Poor Roy! as Sigrid had said, he had -lived such a sheltered life. He knew so little of the world.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XXIX' class='c005'>CHAPTER XXIX.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>It is of course a truism that we never fully appreciate what -we have, until some trouble or some other loss shows us all that -has grown familiar in a fresh light. Our life-long friends are -only perhaps valued at their true worth when some friendship -of recent growth has proved fleeting and full of disappointment. -And though many may love their homes, yet a home can -only be properly appreciated by one who has had to bear from -the outside world contempt and misunderstanding and harsh -judgment. Fond as he had been of his home before, Frithiof -had never until now quite realized what it meant to him. But -as each evening he returned from work, and from the severe -trial of an atmosphere of suspicion and dislike, he felt much as -the sailor feels when, after tossing about all day in stormy seas -he anchors at night in some harbor of refuge. Sigrid knew -that he felt this, and she was determined that he should not -even guess at her trouble. Luckily she had plenty to do, so -that it was impossible for her to sit and look her sorrow in the -face, or brood over it in idleness. It was with her certainly as -she went about her household work, with her as she and Swanhild -walked through the hot and crowded streets, and with her -as she played at Madame Lechertier’s Academy. But there -was something in the work that prevented the trouble from -really preying on her mind, she was sad indeed yet not in -despair.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Nevertheless Madame Lechertier’s quick eyes noted at once -the change in her favorite.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are not well, <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">chérie</span></i>,” she said, “your face looks -<span class='pageno' id='Page_265'>265</span>worn. Why, my dear, I can actually see lines in your forehead. -At your age that is inexcusable.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid laughed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have a bad habit of wrinkling it up when I am worried -about anything,” she said. “To-day, perhaps, I am a little -tired. It is so hot and sultry, and besides I am anxious about -Frithiof, it is a trying time for him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, this heat is trying to the strongest,” said Madame -Lechertier, fanning herself. “Swanhild, my angel, there are -some new bonbons in that box, help yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>This afternoon it happened to be a children’s class, and -Madame Lechertier invariably regaled them in the intervals of -rest with the most delicious French sweetmeats. It was a pretty -sight to see the groups of little ones, and Swanhild in her -dainty Norwegian costume, handing the bonbons to each in -turn. Sigrid always liked to watch this part of the performance, -and perhaps the most comforting thought to her just then -was, that as far as Swanhild was concerned, the new life, in -spite of its restrictions and economies, seemed to answer so -well. The child was never happier than when hard at work at -the academy; even on this hot summer day she never complained; -and in truth the afternoons just brought the right -amount of variety into what would otherwise have been a very -monotonous life.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sigrid,” said the little girl, as they walked home together, -“is it true what you said to Madame Lechertier about Frithiof -feeling the heat? Is it really that which has made him so -grave the last few days?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is partly that,” replied Sigrid. “But he has a good deal -to trouble him that you are too young to understand, things that -will not bear talking about. You must try to make it bright -and cheerful at home.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Swanhild sighed. It was not so easy to be bright and cheerful -all by one’s self, and of late Frithiof and Sigrid had been—as -she expressed it in the quaint Norse idiom—silent as lighted -candles. People talk a great deal about the happy freedom -from care which children can enjoy, but as a matter of fact -many a child feels the exact state of the home atmosphere, and -puzzles its head over the unknown troubles which are grieving -the elders, often magnifying trifles into most alarming and -menacing sources of danger. But Frithiof never guessed either -little Swanhild’s perplexities, or Sigrid’s trouble; when he returned -all seemed to him natural and homelike; and perhaps -it was as much with the desire to be still with them as from any -<span class='pageno' id='Page_266'>266</span>recollection of Donati’s words, that on the following Sunday he -set off with them to the service held during the summer evenings -at Westminster Abbey.</p> - -<p class='c000'>What impression the beautiful service made on him Sigrid -could not tell, but the sermon was unluckily the very last he -ought to have heard. The learned Oxford professor who -preached to the great throng of people that night could have -understood very little how his words would affect many of his -hearers; he preached as a pessimist, he drew a miserable picture -of the iniquity and injustice of the world, all things were -going wrong, the times were out of joint, but he suggested no -remedy, he did not even indicate that there was another side -to the picture. The congregation dispersed. In profound -depression, Frithiof walked down the nave, and passed out -into the cool evening air. Miserable as life had seemed to him -before, it now seemed doubly miserable, it was all a great -wretched problem to which there was no solution, a purposeless -whirl of buying and selling, a selfish struggle for existence. -They walked past the Aquarium, the dingy side streets looked -unlovely enough on that summer night, and the dreary words -he had heard haunted him persistently, harmonizing only too -well with the <i><span lang="it" xml:lang="it">cui bono</span></i> that at all times was apt to suggest itself -to his mind. A wretched, clouded life in a miserable world, -misfortunes which he had never deserved eternally dogging his -steps, his own case merely one of a million similar or worse -cases. Where was the use of it all?</p> - -<p class='c000'>A voice close beside him made him start. They were passing -a corner where two streets crossed each other, and the words -that fell upon his ear, spoken with a strange fervor yet with -deep reverence, were just these:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Jesus, blessed Jesus!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He glanced sharply round and saw a little crowd of people -gathered together; the words had been read from a hymn-book -by a man whose whole heart had been thrown into what he -read. They broke into Frithiof’s revery very strangely. Then -immediately the people began to sing the well-known hymn, -“The Great Physician now is near,” and the familiar tune, -which had long ago penetrated to Norway, brought to Frithiof’s -mind a host of old memories. Was it after all true that the -problem had been solved? Was it true that in spite of suffering -and sin and misery the pledge of ultimate victory had already -been given? Was it true that he whose uncongenial -work seemed chiefly to consist of passive endurance had yet a -share in helping to bring about the final triumph of good?</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_267'>267</span>From the words read by the street preacher, his mind involuntarily -turned to the words spoken to him a few days before -by a stage singer. Donati had spoken of living the life of the -crucified. He had said very little, but what he said had the -marvelous power of all essentially true things. He had spoken -not as a conventional utterer of platitudes, but as one man who -has fought and agonized and overcome, many speak to another -man who, bewildered by the confusion of the battle-field, begins -to doubt his own cause. And far more than anything -actually said there came to him the thought of Donati’s own -life, what he had himself observed of it, and what he had heard -of his story from Cecil. A wonderfully great admission was -made lately by a celebrated agnostic writer when he said that, -“The true Christian saint, though a rare phenomenon, is one -of the most wonderful to be witnessed in the moral world.” -Nor was the admission much qualified by the closing remark,—“So -lofty, so pure, so attractive that he ravishes men’s souls -into oblivion of the patent and general fact that he is an exception -among thousands of millions of professing Christians.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof’s soul was not in the least ravished into oblivion of -this fact; he was as ready as before, perhaps more ready, to -admit the general selfishness of mankind, certainly he was -more than ever conscious of his own shortcomings, and daily -found pride and selfishness and ungraciousness in his own life -and character. But his love for Donati, his great admiration -for him, had changed his whole view of the possibilities of human -life. The Italian had doubtless been specially fortunate -in his parentage, but his life had been one of unusual temptation, -his extremely rapid change from great misery to the height -of popularity and success had alone been a very severe trial, -though perhaps it was what Frithiof had heard of his three -years in the traveling opera company that appealed to him -most. Donati was certainly saint and hero in one; but it was -not only men of natural nobility who were called to live this life -of the crucified. All men were called to it. Deep down in his -heart he knew that even for him it was no impossibility. And -something of Donati’s incredulous scorn as he flung back the -word “impossible” in his face, returned to him now and nerved -him to a fresh attack on the uncongenial life and the faulty -character with which he had to work. The week passed by -pretty well, and the following Sunday found him tired indeed, -but less down-hearted, and better able to keep at arm’s length -his old foe depression. For that foe, though chiefly due to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_268'>268</span>physical causes, can, as all doctors will bear witness, to be -a great extent held in check by spiritual energy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The morning was so bright that Sigrid persuaded him to take -a walk, and fully intending to return in an hour’s time to his -translating, he paced along the embankment. But either the -fine day, or the mere pleasure of exercise, or some sort of curiosity -to see a part of London of which he had heard a great -deal, lured him on. He crossed BlackFriars Bridge and -walked farther and farther, following the course of the river -eastward into a region, dreary indeed, yet at times picturesque, -with the river gleaming in the sunshine, and on the farther bank -the Tower—solid and grim, as befitted the guardian of so many -secrets of the past. Even here there was a quiet Sunday feeling, -while something familiar in the sight of the water and the -shipping carried him back in imagination to Norway, and there -came over him an intense longing for his own country. It was -a feeling that often took possession of him, nor could he any -more account for its sudden seizures than the Swiss can account -for that sick longing for his native mountains to which he is -often liable.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It’s no use,” he thought to himself. “It will take me the -best part of my life to pay off the debts, and till they are paid -I can’t go.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He turned his eyes from the river, as though by doing so he -could drag his thoughts from Norway, when to his astonishment -he all at once caught sight of his own national flag—the well -known blue and white cross on the red ground. His breath -came fast, he walked on quickly to get a nearer view of the -building from which the flag floated. Hurriedly pushing open -the door, he entered the place, and found himself in a church, -which presented the most curious contrast to churches in general, -for it was almost full of men, and the seven or eight -women who were there made little impression, their voices -being drowned in the hearty singing of the great bulk of the -congregation.</p> - -<p class='c000'>They began to sing just as he entered; the tune was one -which he had known all his life, and a host of memories came -back to him as he heard once more the slow and not too melodious -singing, rendered striking, however, because of the fervor -of the honest Norsemen. Tears, which all his troubles had -not called forth, started now to his eyes as he listened to the -words which carried him right out of the foreign land back to -his childhood at Bergen.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id003'> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_269'>269</span> -<img src='images/i_269.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p><span lang="no" xml:lang="no">Sörg o kjare fader du, Jeg wil ik-ke<br />sör-ge, Ik-ke med be kym-ret hu,<br />Om min frem-tid spör-ge. Sörg du for mig<br />al min tid, Sörg for mig og mi-ne; Gud al-mæg-tig<br />naa-dig, blid, Sörg for al-le di-ne!</span></p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_270'>270</span>Translation.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Care, oh, dear Father, Thou,</div> - <div class='line'>I will not care;</div> - <div class='line'>Not with troubled mind</div> - <div class='line'>About my future ask.</div> - <div class='line'>Care thou for me all my life,</div> - <div class='line'>Care for me and mine;</div> - <div class='line'>God Almighty, gracious, good,</div> - <div class='line'>Care for all Thine!”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>An onlooker, even a foreigner not understanding the language, -could not fail to have been touched by the mere sight of -this strange gathering in the heart of London,—the unpretentious -building, the antique look of the clergyman in his gown -and Elizabethan ruff, the ranks of men—numbering nearly four -hundred—with their grave, weather-beaten faces, the greater -number of them sailors, but with a sprinkling of business men -living in the neighborhood, and the young Norseman who had -just entered, with his pride broken down by memories of an old -home, his love of Norway leading him to the realization that he -was also a citizen of another country, and his stern face softened -to that expression which is always so full of pathos—the -expression of intent listening.</p> - -<p class='c000'>In the Norwegian church the subject of the sermon is arranged -throughout the year. On this second Sunday after Trinity it -was on the Gospel for the day, the parable of the Master of the -House who made a great supper, and of the guests who “all with -one consent began to make excuse.” There was nothing new -in what Frithiof heard; he had heard it all in the old times, -and, entirely satisfied with the happiness of self-pleasing, had -been among the rich who had been sent empty away. Now he -came poor and in need, and found that after all it is the hungry -who are “filled with good things.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Very gradually, and helped by many flashes of light which -had from time to time come to him in his darkest hours, he had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_271'>271</span>during the last two years groped his way from the vague and -somewhat flippant belief in a good providence, which he had -once announced to Blanche as his creed, and had learnt to believe -in the All-Father. His meeting with Donati had exercised, -and still continued to exercise, an extraordinary influence over -him; but it was not until this Sunday morning, in his own -national church, not until in his own language he once more -heard the entreaty, “Come, for all things are now ready!” -that he fully realized how he had neglected the life of Sonship.</p> - -<p class='c000'>With an Infinite Love belonging to him by right, he had allowed -himself to be miserable, isolated, and bitter. To many -distinct commands he had turned a deaf ear. To One who -needed him and asked his love he had replied in the jargon of -the nineteenth century, but in the spirit of the old Bible story, -that practical matters needed him and that he could not come.</p> - -<p class='c000'>When the preacher went on to speak of the Lord’s Supper, -and the distinct command that all should come to it, Frithiof -began to perceive for the first time that he had regarded this -service merely as the incomprehensible communication of a -great gift—whereas this was in truth only one side of it, and he, -also, had to give himself up to One who actually needed him. -It was characteristic of his honest nature that when he at last -perceived this truth he no longer made excuse but promptly -obeyed, not waiting for full understanding, not troubling at all -about controversial points, but simply doing what he recognized -as his duty.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And when in a rapid survey of the past there came recollections -of Blanche and the wrong she had done him, he was almost -startled to find how quietly he could think of her, how possible -it had become to blot out all the resentful memories, all the reproachful -thoughts that for so long had haunted him. For the -first time he entirely forgave her, and in the very act of forgiving -he seemed to regain something of the brightness which she -had driven from his life, and to gain something better and -truer than had as yet been his.</p> - -<p class='c000'>All the selfish element had died out of his love for her; there -remained only the sadness of thinking of her disgrace, and a -longing that, even yet, the good might prevail in her life. Was -there no recovery from such a fall? Was no allowance to be -made for her youth and her great temptations? If she really -repented ought not her husband once more to receive her; and -give her the protection which he alone could give?</p> - -<p class='c000'>Kneeling there in the quiet he faced that great problem, and -with eyes cleared by love, with his pride altogether laid low, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_272'>272</span>knowing what it was both to forgive and to be forgiven, he saw -beyond the conventional view taken by the world. There was -no escaping the great law of forgiveness laid down by Christ, -“If he repent, forgive him.” “Forgive even as also ye are -forgiven.” And if marriage was taken as a symbol of the union -between Christ and the Church, how was it possible to exclude -the idea of forgiveness for faithlessness truly repented of? -Had he been in Lord Romiaux’s place he knew that he must -have forgiven her, that if necessary he must have set the whole -world at defiance, in order once more to shelter her from the -deadly peril to which, alone, she must always be exposed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And so it happened that love turned to good even the early -passion that had apparently made such havoc of his life, and -used it now to raise him out of the thought of his own trouble and -undeserved disgrace, used it to lift him out of the selfishness -and hardness that for so long had been cramping an otherwise -fine nature.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XXX' class='c005'>CHAPTER XXX.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>Perhaps it was almost a relief both to Frithiof and to Sigrid -that, just at this time, all intercourse with Rowan Tree -House should become impossible. Lance and Gwen had -sickened with scarlatina, and, of course, all communication was -at end for some time to come; it would have been impossible -that things should have gone on as before after Frithiof’s -trouble: he was far too proud to permit such a thing, though -the Bonifaces would have done their best utterly to forget what -had happened. It would moreover have been difficult for Sigrid -to fall back in her former position of familiar friendship -after her last interview with Roy. So that, perhaps, the only -person who sighed over the separation was Cecil, and she was -fortunately kept so busy by her little patients that she had not -time to think much of the future. Whenever the thought did -cross her mind—“How is all this going to end?”—such miserable -perplexity seized her that she was glad to turn back to the -present, which, however painful, was at any rate endurable. -But the strain of that secret anxiety, and the physical fatigue -of nursing the two children, began to tell on her, she felt worn -and old, and the look that always frightened Mrs. Boniface -came back to her face—the look that made the poor mother -think of the two graves in Norwood Cemetery.</p> - -<p class='c000'>By the middle of August, Lance and Gwen had recovered, -and were taken down to the seaside, while Rowan Tree House -<span class='pageno' id='Page_273'>273</span>was delivered into the hands of the painters and whitewashers -to be thoroughly disinfected. But in spite of lovely weather -that summer’s holiday proved a very dreary one. Roy was in -the depths of depression, and it seemed to Cecil that a great -shadow had fallen upon everything.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Robin,” said Mrs. Boniface, “I want you to take that child -to Switzerland for a month; this place is doing her no good -at all. She wants change and mountain air.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>So the father and mother plotted and planned, and in September -Cecil, much against her will, was packed off to Switzerland -to see snow-mountains, and waterfalls, when all the time -she would far rather been seeing the prosaic heights of the -model lodging-houses, and the dull London streets. Still, -being a sensible girl, she did her best with what was put -before her, and, though her mind was a good deal with Sigrid -and Frithiof in their trouble and anxiety, yet physically -she gained great good from the tour, and came back with a -color in her cheeks which satisfied her mother.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“By-the-by, dearie,” remarked Mrs. Boniface, the day after -her return, “your father thought you would like to hear the -<em>Elijah</em> to-night at the Albert Hall, and he has left you two -tickets.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, Albani is singing, is she not?” cried Cecil. “Oh -yes; I should like to go of all things!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then I tell you what we will do; we will send a card and -ask Mrs. Horner to go with you, for it’s the Church meeting -to-night, and father and I do not want to miss it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil could make no objection to this, though her pleasure -was rather damped by the prospect of having Mrs. Horner as -her companion. There was little love lost between them, for -the innate refinement of the one jarred upon the innate vulgarity -of the other, and <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">vice versâ</span></i>.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was a little after seven o’clock when Cecil drove to the -Horners’ house and was ushered into the very gorgeous drawing-room. -It was empty, and by a sort of instinct which she could -never resist, she crossed over to the fireplace and gazed up at -the clock, which ever since her childhood had by its ugliness -attracted her much as a moth is attracted to a candle. It was -a huge clock with a little white face and a great golden rock, -upon which golden pigs browsed with a golden swineherd in -attendance.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My dear,” exclaimed Mrs. Horner, entering with a perturbed -face, “did not my letter reach you in time? I made -sure it would. The fact is, I am not feeling quite up to going -<span class='pageno' id='Page_274'>274</span>out to-night. Could you find any one else, do you think, who -would go with you?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil thought for a moment.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sigrid would have liked it, but I know she is too busy just -now,” she remarked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And, oh, my dear, far better go alone than take Miss -Falck!” said Mrs. Horner. “I shall never forget what I -endured when I took her with me to hear Corney Grain; she -laughed aloud, my dear; laughed till she positively cried, and -even went so far as to clap her hands. It makes me hot to -think of it even.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mrs. Horner belonged to that rather numerous section of -English people who think that it is a sign of good breeding to -show no emotion. She had at one time been rather taken by -Sigrid’s charming manner, but the Norwegian girl was far too -simple and unaffected, far too spontaneous, to remain long in -Mrs. Horner’s good books; she had no idea of enjoying things -in a placid, conventional, semi-bored way, and her clear, ringing -laugh was in itself an offense. Mrs. Horner herself never -gave more than a polite smile, or at times, when her powers of -restraint were too much taxed, a sort of uncomfortable gurgle -in her throat, with compressed lips, which gallantly tried to -strangle her unseemly mirth.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I always enjoy going anywhere with Sigrid,” said Cecil, -who, gentle as she was, would never consent to be over-ridden -by Mrs. Horner. “It seems to me that her wonderful faculty -for enjoying everything is very much to be envied. However, -there is no chance of her going to-night; I will call and see -whether one of the Greenwoods is disengaged.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>So with hasty farewells she went off, laughing to herself as -the cab rattled along to think of Mrs. Horner’s discomfort and -Sigrid’s intense appreciation of Corney Grain. Fate, however, -seemed to be against her; her friends, the Greenwoods, were -out for the evening, and there was nothing left for it but to -drive home again, or else to go in alone and trust to finding -Roy afterward. To sacrifice her chance of hearing the <em>Elijah</em> -with Albani as soprano merely to satisfy Mrs. Grundy was too -much for Cecil. She decided to go alone, and, writing a few -words on a card asking Roy to come to her at the end of the -oratorio, she sent it to the <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">artistes’</span></i> room by one of the attendants, -and settled herself down to enjoy the music, secretly rather -glad to have an empty chair instead of Mrs. Horner beside -her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>All at once the color rushed to her cheeks, for, looking up, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_275'>275</span>she saw Frithiof crossing the platform; she watched him place -the score on the conductor’s desk, and turn to answer the question -of some one in the orchestra, then disappear again within -the swing-doors leading to the back regions. She wondered -much what he was thinking of as he went through his prosaic -duties so rapidly, wondered if his mind was away in Norway -all the time—whether autumn had brought to him, as she knew -it generally did, the strong craving for his old life of adventure—the -longing to handle a gun once more; or whether, -perhaps, his trouble had overshadowed even that, and whether -he was thinking instead of that baffling mystery which had -caused them all so much pain. And all through the oratorio she -seemed to be hearing everything with his ears; wondering how -the choruses would strike him, or hoping that he was in a good -place for hearing Albani’s exquisite rendering of “Hear ye, -Israel.” She wondered a little that Roy did not come to her, -or, at any rate, send her some message, and at the end of the -last chorus began to feel a little anxious and uncomfortable. -At last, to her great relief, she saw Frithiof coming toward her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Your brother has never come,” he said, in reply to her -greeting. “I suppose this fog must have hindered him, for he -told me he should be here; and I have been expecting him -every moment.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Is the fog so bad as all that?” said Cecil, rather anxiously.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It was very bad when I came,” said Frithiof. “However, -by good luck, I managed to grope my way to Portland Road, -and came down by the Metropolitan. Will you let me see you -home?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Thank you, but it is so dreadfully out of your way. I -should be very glad if you would, only it is troubling you so -much.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Something in her eager yet half-shy welcome, and in the -sense that she was one of the very few who really believed in -him, filled Frithiof with a happiness which he could scarcely -have explained to himself.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You will be giving me a very great pleasure,” he said. “I -expect there will be a rush on the trains. Shall we try for -a cab?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>So they walked out together into the dense fog, Cecil with a -blissful sense of confidence in the man who piloted her so -adroitly through the crowd, and seemed so astonishingly cool -and indifferent amid the perilous confusion of wheels and -hoofs, which always appeared in the quarter where one least -expected them.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_276'>276</span>At last, after much difficulty, Frithiof secured a hansom, and -put her into it. She was secretly relieved that he got in too.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I will come back with you if you will allow me,” he said; -“for I am not quite sure whether this is not a more dangerous -part of the adventure than when we were on foot. I never -saw such a fog! Why, we can’t even see the horse, much less -where he is going.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How thankful I am that you were here! It would have -been dreadful all alone,” said Cecil; and she explained to him -how Mrs. Horner had failed her at the last moment.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He made no comment, but in his heart he was glad that both -Mrs. Horner and Roy should have proved faithless, and that -the duty of seeing Cecil home had devolved upon him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You have not met my mother since she came back from -the sea,” said Cecil. “Are you still afraid of infection? The -house has been thoroughly painted and fumigated.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, it is not that,” said Frithiof “but while this cloud is -still over me, I can’t come. You do not realize how it affects -everything.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Perhaps she realized much more than he fancied, but she -only said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It does not affect your own home.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, that’s true,” said Frithiof. “It has made me value -that more, and it has made me value your friendship more. -But, you see, you are the only one at Rowan Tree House who -still believes in me; and how you manage to do it passes my -comprehension—when there is nothing to prove me innocent.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“None of the things which we believe in most can be absolutely -proved,” said Cecil. “I can’t logically justify my belief -in you any more than in our old talks I could justify my belief -in the unseen world.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you remember that first Sunday when I was staying -with you, and you asked me whether I had found a Norwegian -church!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, very well. It vexed me so much to have said anything -about it; but you see, I had always lived with people -who went to church or chapel as regularly as they took their -meals.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, do you know I was wrong; there is a Norwegian -church down near the Commercial Docks at Rotherhithe.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And then lured on by her unspoken sympathy, and favored -by the darkness, he told her of the strong influence which the -familiar old chorale had had upon him, and how it had carried -him back to the time of his confirmation—that time which to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_277'>277</span>all Norwegians is full of deep meaning and intense reality, so -that even in the indifferentism of later years and the fogs of -doubt which pain and trouble conjure up, its memory still -lingers, ready to be touched into life at the very first opportunity.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is too far for Sigrid and Swanhild to go very often, but -to me it is like a bit of Norway planted down in this great -wilderness of houses,” he said. “It was strange that I should -have happened to come across it so unexpectedly just at the -time when I most needed it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But that surely is what always happens,” said Cecil. “When -we really need a thing we get it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You learned before I did to distinguish between needing -and wanting,” said Frithiof. “It comes to some people easily, -I suppose. But I, you see, had to lose everything before understanding—to -lose even my reputation for common honesty. -Even now it seems to be hardly possible that life should go on -under such a cloud as that. Yet the days pass somehow, and -I believe that it was this trouble which drove me to what I -really needed.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is good of you to tell me this,” said Cecil. “It seems -to put a meaning into this mystery which is always puzzling me -and seeming so useless and unjust. By the by, Roy tells me -that Darnell has left.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” said Frithiof, “he left at Michaelmas. Things have -been rather smoother since then.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I can’t help thinking that his leaving just now is in direct -evidence against him,” said Cecil. “Sigrid and I suspected -him from the first. Do you not suspect him?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” he replied, “I do. But without any reason.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why did he go?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“His wife was ill, and was ordered to a warmer climate. -He has taken a situation at Plymouth. After all, there is no -real evidence against him, and a great deal of evidence against -me. How is it that you suspect him?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is because I know you had nothing to do with it,” said -Cecil.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He had guessed what her answer would be, yet loved to hear -her say the words.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It seemed to him that the dense fog, and the long drive at -foot pace, and the anxiety to see the right way, and the manifold -difficulties and dangers of this night, resembled his own -life. And then it struck him how tedious the drive would have -been to him but for Cecil’s presence, and he saw how great a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_278'>278</span>difference her trust and friendship made to him. He had -always liked her, but now gratitude and reverence woke a new -feeling in his heart. Blanche’s faithlessness had so crippled -his life that no thought of love in the ordinary sense of the -word—of love culminating in marriage—came to his mind. -But yet his heart went out to Cecil, and a new influence crept -into his life—an influence that softened his hardness, that -quieted his feverish impatience, that strengthened him to -endure.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sigrid and Swanhild have been away with Mme. Lechertier, -have they not?” asked Cecil, after a silence.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, they went to Hastings for a fortnight. We shut up -the rooms, and I went down to Herr Sivertsen, who was staying -near Warlingham, a charming little place in the Surrey -hills.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sigrid told me you were with him, but I fancied she meant -in London.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No; once a year he tears himself from his dingy den in -Museum Street, and goes down to this place. We were out of -doors most of the day, and in the evening worked for four or -five hours at a translation of Darwin which he is very anxious -to get finished. Hullo! what is wrong?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He might well ask, for the horse was kicking and plunging -violently. Shouts and oaths echoed through the murky darkness. -Then they could just make out the outline of another -horse at right angles with their own. He was almost upon -them, struggling frantically, and the shaft of the cab belonging -to him would have struck Cecil violently in the face had not -Frithiof seized it and wrenched it away with all his force. -Then, suddenly, the horse was dragged backward, their hansom -shivered, reeled, and finally fell on its side.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil’s heart beat fast, she turned deadly white, just felt in -the horrible moment of falling a sense of relief when Frithiof -threw his arm around her and held her fast; then for an interval -realized nothing at all, so stunning was the violence with -which they came to the ground. Apparently both the cabs had -gone over and were lying in an extraordinary entanglement, -while both horses seemed to be still on their feet, to judge by -the sounds of kicking and plunging. The danger was doubled -by the blinding fog, which made it impossible to realize where -one might expect hoofs.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Are you hurt?” asked Frithiof anxiously.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No,” replied Cecil, gasping for breath. “Only shaken. -How are we to get out?”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_279'>279</span>He lifted her away from him, and managed with some difficulty -to scramble up. Then, before she had time to think of -the peril, he had taken her in his arms, and, rashly perhaps, -but very dexterously, carried her out of danger. Had she not -trusted him so entirely it would have been a dreadful minute -to her; and even as it was she turned sick and giddy as she -was lifted up, and heard hoofs in perilous proximity, and felt -Frithiof cautiously stepping out into that darkness that might -be felt, and swaying a little beneath her weight.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Wont you put me down?—I am too heavy for you,” she -said. But, even as she spoke, she felt him shake with laughter -at the idea.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I could carry you for miles, now that we are safely out of -the wreck,” he said. “Here is a curbstone, and—yes, by good -luck, the steps of a house. Now, shall we ring up the people -and ask them to shelter you while I just lend a hand with the -cab?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, no, it is so late, I will wait here. Take care you don’t -get hurt.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He disappeared into the fog, and she understood him well -enough to know that he would keenly enjoy the difficulty of -getting matters straight again.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I think accidents agree with you,” she said laughingly, -when by and by he came back to her, seeming unusually -cheerful.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I can’t help laughing now to think of the ridiculous way in -which both cabs went down and both horses stood up,” he -said. “It is wonderful that more damage was not done. We -all seem to have escaped with bruises, and nothing is broken -except the shafts.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Let us walk home now,” said Cecil “Does any one know -whereabout we are?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The driver says it is Battersea Bridge Road, some way -from Rowan Tree House, you see, but, if you would not be too -tired, it would certainly be better not to stay for another cab.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>So they set off, and, with much difficulty, at length groped -their way to Brixton, not getting home till long after midnight. -At the door Frithiof said good-by, and for the first time since -the accident Cecil remembered his trouble; in talking of many -things she had lost sight of it, but now it came back to her -with a swift pang, all the harder to bear because of the happiness -of the last half-hour.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You must not go back without resting and having something -to eat,” she said pleadingly.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_280'>280</span>“You are very kind,” he replied, “but I can not come in.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But I shall be so unhappy about you, if you go all that long -way back without food; come in, if it is only to please me.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Something in her tone touched him, and at that moment the -door was opened by Mr. Boniface himself.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, Cecil,” he cried. “We have been quite anxious -about you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Frithiof saw me home because of the fog,” she explained. -“And our hansom was overturned at Battersea, so we have had -to walk from there. Please ask Frithiof to come in, father, we -are so dreadfully cold and hungry, yet he will insist on going -straight home.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It’s not to be thought of,” said Mr. Boniface. “Come in, -come in, I never saw such a fog.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>So once more Frithiof found himself in the familiar house -which always seemed so homelike to him, and for the first time -since his disgrace he shook hands with Mrs. Boniface; she was -kindness itself, and yet somehow the meeting was painful and -Frithiof wished himself once more in the foggy streets. Cecil -seemed intuitively to know how he felt, for she talked fast and -gayly as though to fill up the sense of something wanting which -was oppressing him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am sure we are very grateful to you,” said Mrs. Boniface, -when she had heard all about the adventure, and his rescue of -Cecil. “I can’t think what Cecil would have done without -you. As for Roy, finding it so foggy and having a bad headache, -he came home early and is now gone to bed. But come -in and get warm by the fire. I don’t know why we are all -standing in the hall.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She led the way into the drawing-room, and Cecil gave a cry -of astonishment, for, standing on the hearth-rug was a little -figure in a red dressing-gown, looking very much like a wooden -Noah in a toy ark.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, Lance,” she cried, “you up at this time of night!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The little fellow flew to meet her and clung round her neck.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I really couldn’t exackly help crying,” he said, “for I -couldn’t keep the tears out of my eyes.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He woke up a few minutes ago,” said Mrs. Boniface, “and -finding your bed empty thought that something dreadful had -happened to you, and as nurse was asleep I brought him down -here, for he was so cold and frightened.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>By this time Lance had released Cecil and was clinging to -Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Gwen and me’s been ill,” he said proudly, “and I’ve grown -<span class='pageno' id='Page_281'>281</span>a whole inch since you were here last. My throat doesn’t -hurten me now at all.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The happy unconsciousness of the little fellow seemed to -thaw Frithiof at once, the wretched five-pound note ceased to -haunt him as he sat with Lance on his knee, and he ate without -much thought the supper that he had fancied would choke -him. For Lance, who was faithful to his old friends, entirely -refused to leave him, but serenely ate biscuits and begged stray -sips of his hot cocoa, his merry childish talk filling up the gaps -in a wonderful way and setting them all at their ease.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Had you not better stay here for the night?” said Mrs. -Boniface presently. “I can’t bear to think of your having -that long walk through the fog.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are very kind,” he said, “but Sigrid would be frightened -if I didn’t turn up,” and kissing Lance, he sat him down on -the hearthrug, and rose to go. Cecil’s thanks and warm hand-clasp -lingered with him pleasantly, and he set out on his walk -home all the better for his visit to Rowan Tree House.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XXXI' class='c005'>CHAPTER XXXI.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>Had it not been for the fog his long walk might have made -him sleepy, but the necessity of keeping every faculty on the -alert and of sharply watching every crossing and every landmark -made that out of the question. Moreover, now that he -had quite recovered from his illness it took a great deal to tire -him, and, whenever he did succumb, it was to mental worry, -never to physical fatigue. So he tramped along pretty cheerfully, -rather enjoying the novelty of the thing, but making as -much haste as he could on account of Sigrid. He had just -reached the outer door of the model lodgings and was about -to unlock it with the key which was always furnished to those -whose work detained them beyond the hour of closing, when -he was startled by something that sounded like a sob close by -him. He paused and listened; it came again.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Who is there?” he said, straining his eyes to pierce the -thick curtain of fog that hung before him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The figure of a woman approached him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, sir,” she said, checking her sobs, “have you the key, -and can you let me in?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, I have a key. Do you live here?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, sir, but I’m sister to Mrs. Hallifield. Perhaps you know -Hallifield, the tram conductor. I came to see him to-night -<span class='pageno' id='Page_282'>282</span>because he was taken so ill, but I got hindered setting out -again, and didn’t allow time to get back to Macdougal’s. I’m -in his shop, and the rule at his boarding-house is that the door -is closed at eleven and mayn’t be opened any more, and when -I got there sir, being hindered with the fog, it was five minutes -past.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And they wouldn’t let you in?” asked Frithiof. “What -an abominable thing—the man ought to be ashamed of himself -for having such a rule! Come in; why you must be half-frozen! -I know your sister quite well!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I can never thank you enough,” said the poor girl. “I -thought I should have had to stay out all night! There’s a -light, I see, in the window; my brother-in-law is worse, I -expect.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What is wrong with him?” asked Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, he’s been failing this long time,” said the girl; “it’s -the long hours of the trams he’s dying of. There’s never any -rest for them you see, sir; winter and summer, Sunday and -week-day they have to drudge on. He’s a kind husband and a -good father too, and he will go on working for the sake of -keeping the home together, but it’s little of the home he sees -when he has to be away from it sixteen hours every day. -They say they’re going to give more holidays and shorter hours, -but there’s a long time spent in talking of things, it seems to -me, and in the meanwhile John’s dying.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof remembered how Sigrid had mentioned this very -thing to him in the summer when he had told her of his disgrace; -he had been too full of his own affairs to heed her -much, but now his heart grew hot at the thought of this pitiable -waste of human life, this grinding out of a larger dividend at the -cost of such terrible suffering. It was a sign that his new life -had actually begun when, instead of merely railing at the injustice -of the world, he began to think what he himself could -do in this matter.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Perhaps they will want the doctor fetched. I will come -with you to the door and you shall just see,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And the girl thanking him, knocked at her sister’s door, -spoke to some one inside, and returning, asked him to come in. -To his surprise he found Sigrid in the little kitchen; she was -walking to and fro with the baby, a sturdy little fellow of a -year old.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are back at last,” she said, “I was getting quite anxious -about you. Mr. Hallifield was taken so much worse to-day, -and hearing the baby crying I came in to help.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_283'>283</span>“How about the doctor? Do they want him fetched?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, he came here about ten o’clock, and he says there is -nothing to be done; it is only a question of hours now.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>At this moment the poor wife came into the kitchen; she was -still quite young, and the dumb anguish in her face brought -the tears to Sigrid’s eyes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What, Clara!” she exclaimed, perceiving her sister, “you -back again!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I was too late,” said the girl, “and they had locked me out. -But it’s no matter now that the gentleman has let me in here. -Is John worse again.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He’ll not last long,” said the wife, “and he be that set on -getting in here to the fire, for he’s mortal cold. But I doubt -if he’s strength to walk so far.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Frithiof, you could help him in,” said Sigrid.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Will you, sir? I’ll thank you kindly if you will,” said Mrs. -Hallifield, leading the way to the bedroom.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof followed her, and glancing toward the bed could -hardly control the awed surprise which seized him as for the -first time he saw a man upon whom the shadow of death had -already fallen. Once or twice he had met Hallifield in the -passage setting off to his work in the early morning, and he -contrasted his recollection of the brisk, fair-complexioned, -respectable-looking conductor, and this man propped up with -pillows, his face drawn with pain, and of that ghastly ashen -hue which is death’s herald.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The Norwegian gentleman is here, and will help you into -the kitchen, John,” said the wife, beginning to swathe him in -blankets.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Thank you, sir,” said the man gratefully. “It’s just a -fancy I’ve got to die in there by the fire, though I doubt I’ll -never get warm any more.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof carried him in gently and set him down in a cushioned -chair drawn close to the fire; he seemed pleased by the change -of scene, and looked round the tidy little room with brightening -eyes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It’s a nice little place!” he said. “I wish I could think -you would keep it together, Bessie, but with the four children -you’ll have a hard struggle to live.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>For the first time she broke down and hid her face in her -apron. A look of keen pain passed over the face of the dying -man, he clinched and unclinched his hands. But Sigrid, who -was rocking the baby on the other side of the hearth, bent forward -and spoke to him soothingly.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_284'>284</span>“Don’t you trouble about that part of it,” she said. “We -will be her friends. Though we are poor yet there are many -ways in which we can help her, and I know a lady who will -never let her want.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He thanked her with a gratitude that was pathetic.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I’m in a burial club,” he said, after a pause, stretching out -his nerveless fingers toward the fire; “she’ll have no expenses -that way; they’ll bury me very handsome, which’ll be a satisfaction -to her, poor girl. I’ve often thought of it when I saw -a well-to-do looking funeral pass alongside the tram, but I -never thought it would come as soon as this. I’m only going -in thirty-five, which isn’t no great age for a man.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The work was too much for you,” said Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, sir, it’s the truth you speak, and there’s many another -in the same boat along with me. It’s a cruel hard life. But -then, you see, I was making my four-and-six a day, and if I -gave up I knew it meant starvation for the wife and the children; -there is thousands out of work, and that makes a man -think twice before giving in—spite of the long hours.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And he did get six shillings a day at one time,” said the -wife looking up, “but the company’s cruel hard, sir, and just -because he had a twopence in his money and no ticket to -account for its being there they lowered him down to four-and-six -again.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, that did seem to me hard; I’ll not deny, I swore a bit -that day,” said Hallifield. “But the company never treats us -like men, it treats us like slaves. They might have known me -to be honest and careful, but it seems as if they downright -liked to catch a fellow tripping, and while that’s so there’s -many that’ll do their best to cheat.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But is nothing being done to shorten the hours, to make -people understand how frightful they are?” asked Sigrid.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, yes, miss, there’s Mrs. Reaney working with all her -might for us,” said Hallifield. “But you see folks are hard to -move, and if we had only the dozen hours a day that we ought -to have and every other Sunday at home, why, miss, they’d -perhaps not get nine per cent. on their money as they do -now.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“They are no better than murderers!” said Frithiof hotly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well,” said Hallifield, “so it has seemed to me sometimes. -But I never set up to know much; I’ve had no time for book-learning, -nor for religion either, barely time for eating and -sleeping. I don’t think God Almighty will be hard on a fellow -that has done his best to keep his wife and children in comfort, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_285'>285</span>and I’ll not complain if only He’ll just let me sit still and do -nothing for a bit, for I’m mortal tired.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He had been talking eagerly, and for the time his strength -had returned to him, but now his head dropped forward, and -his hands clutched convulsively at the blankets.</p> - -<p class='c000'>With a great cry the poor wife started forward and flung her -arms round him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He’s going!” she sobbed. “He’s going! John—oh, -John!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Nine per cent. on their money!” thought Frithiof. “My -God! if they could but see this!”</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c000'>By-and-by, when he had done all that he could to help, he -went back to his own room, leaving Sigrid still with the poor -widow. The scene had made a deep impression on him; he -had never before seen any one die, and the thought of poor -Hallifield’s pathetic confession that he had had no time for -anything, but the toil of living, returned to him again and again.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That is a death-bed that ought not to have been,” he reflected. -“It came for the hateful struggle for wealth. Yet -the shareholders are no worse than the rest of the world, it is -only that they don’t think, or, if they do think for a time, allow -themselves to be persuaded that the complaints are exaggerated. -How easily men let themselves be hoodwinked by vague statements -and comfortable assurances when they want to be persuaded, -when it is to their own interest to let things go on as -before.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And then, quite unable to sleep, he lay thinking of the great -problems which had so often haunted him, the sharp contrasts -between too great wealth and too great poverty, the unequal -chances in life, the grinding competition, the ineffable sadness -of the world. But his thoughts were no longer tainted by bitterness -and despair, because, though he could not see a purpose -in all the great mysteries of life, yet he trusted One who -had a purpose, One who in the end must overcome all evil, and -he knew that he himself was bound to live and could live a life -which should help toward that great end.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Three days later poor Hallifield’s “handsome funeral” set -out from the door of the model lodgings, and Frithiof, who had -given up his half-holiday to go down to the cemetery, listened -to the words of the beautiful service, thinking to himself how -improbable it was that the tram-conductor had ever had the -chance of hearing St. Paul’s teaching on the resurrection.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Was there not something wrong in a system which should so -<span class='pageno' id='Page_286'>286</span>tire out a man that the summit of his wishes on his dying day -should be but an echo of the overworked woman whose epitaph -ended with—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“I’m going to do nothing for ever and ever”?</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>How could this great evil of the overwork of the many, and -the too great leisure of the few, be set right? A socialism -which should compulsorily reduce all to one level would be -worse than useless. Love of freedom was too thoroughly -ingrained in his Norse nature to tolerate that idea for a moment. -He desired certain radical reforms with his whole heart, but he -saw that they alone would not suffice—nothing but individual -love, nothing but the consciousness of individual responsibility, -could really put an end to the misery and injustice of the present -system. In a word, the only true remedy was the life of -Sonship.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XXXII' class='c005'>CHAPTER XXXII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>One December day another conclave was held in Mr. Boniface’s -private room. Mr. Boniface himself sat with his arm -chair turned round toward the fire, and on his pleasant, genial -face there was a slight cloud, for he much disliked the prospect -of the discussion before him. Mr. Horner stood with his back -to the mantel-piece, looking even more pompous and conceited -than usual, and Roy sat at the writing-table, listening attentively -to what passed, and relieving his feelings by savagely digging -his pen into the blotting-pad to the great detriment of its point.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is high time we came to an understanding on this matter,” -Mr. Horner was saying. “Do you fully understand that when -I have once said a thing I keep to it? Either that Norwegian -must go, or when the day comes for renewing our partnership -I leave this place never to re-enter it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I do not wish to have any quarrel with you about the matter,” -said Mr. Boniface. “But I shall certainly not part with -Falck. To send him away now would be most cruel and unjustifiable.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It would be nothing of the sort,” retorted Mr. Horner hotly. -“It would be merely following the dictates of common-sense -and fairness.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“This is precisely the point on which you and I do not agree,” -said Mr. Boniface with dignity.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is not only his dishonesty that has set me against him,” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_287'>287</span>continued Mr. Horner. “It is his impertinent indifference, -his insufferable manner when I order him to do anything.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have never myself found him anything but a perfect -gentleman,” said Mr. Boniface.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Gentleman! Oh! I’ve no patience with all that tomfoolery! -I want none of your gentlemen; I want a shopman -who knows his place and can answer with proper deference.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You do not understand the Norse nature,” said Roy. -“Now here in the newspaper, this very day, is a good sample -of it.” He unfolded the morning paper eagerly and read them -the following lines, taking a wicked delight in the thought of -how it would strike home:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Their noble simplicity and freedom of manners bear witness -that they have never submitted to the yoke of a conqueror, -or to the rod of a petty feudal lord; a peasantry at once so -kind-hearted, so truly humble and religious, and yet so nobly -proud, where pride is a virtue, who resent any wanton affront -to their honor or dignity. As an instance of this, it may be -mentioned that a naturalist, on finding that his hired peasant -companions had not done their work of dredging to his satisfaction, -scolded them in violent and abusive language. The men -did not seem to take the slightest notice of his scolding. ‘How -can you stand there so stupidly and apathetically, as though -the matter did not concern you?’ said he, still more irritated. -‘It is because we think, sir, that such language is only a sign -of bad breeding,’ replied an unawed son of the mountains, whom -even poverty could not strip of the consciousness of his dignity.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You insult me by reading such trash,” said Mr Horner, all -the more irritated because he knew that Roy had truth on his -side, and that he had often spoken to Frithiof abusively. “But -if you like to keep this thief in your employ—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Excuse me, but I can not let that expression pass,” said -Mr. Boniface. “No one having the slightest knowledge of -Frithiof Falck could believe him guilty of dishonesty.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, then, this lunatic with a mania for taking money that -belongs to other people—this son of a bankrupt, this designing -foreigner—if you insist on keeping him I withdraw my capital -and retire. I am aware that it is a particularly inconvenient -time to withdraw money from the business, but that is your -affair. ‘As you have brewed so you must drink.’”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It may put me to some slight inconvenience,” said Mr. -Boniface. “But as far as I am concerned I shall gladly submit -to that rather than go against my conscience with regard to -Falck. What do you say, Roy?”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_288'>288</span>“I am quite at one with you, father,” replied Roy, with a keen -sense of enjoyment in the thought of so quietly baffling James -Horner’s malicious schemes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“This designing fellow has made you both his dupes,” said -Mr. Horner furiously. “Someday you’ll repent of this and -see that I was right.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>No one replied, and, with an exclamation of impatient disgust, -James Horner took up his hat and left the room, effectually -checkmated. Frithiof, happening to glance up from his -desk as the angry man strode through the shop, received so -furious a glance that he at once realized what must have passed -in the private room. It was not, however, until closing time -that he could speak alone with Roy, but the moment they were -out in the street he turned to him with an eager question.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What happened to Mr. Horner to-day?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He heard a discourse on the Norwegian character which -happened to be in the <cite>Daily News</cite>, by good luck,” said Roy, -smiling. “By-the-by, it will amuse you, take it home.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And, drawing the folded paper from his coat-pocket, he -handed it to Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He gave me such a furious glance as he passed by, that I -was sure something had annoyed him,” said Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Never mind, it is the last you will have from him,” said -Roy, rubbing his hands with satisfaction. “He has vowed -that he will never darken our doors again. Think what a reign -of peace will set in.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He has really retired, then?” said Frithiof. “I was afraid -it must be so. I can’t stand it, Roy; I can’t let you make -such a sacrifice for me.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sacrifice! stuff and nonsense!” said Roy cheerfully. “I -have not felt so free and comfortable for an age. We shall be -well rid of the old bore.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But his capital?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Goes away with him,” said Roy; “it will only be a slight -inconvenience; probably he will hurt himself far more than he -hurts us, and serve him right, too. If there’s a man on earth I -detest it is my worthy cousin James Horner.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof naturally shared this sentiment, yet still he felt very -sorry that Mr. Horner had kept his word and left the firm, for -all through the autumn he had been hoping that he might relent -and that his bark would prove worse than his bite. The -sense of being under such a deep obligation to the Bonifaces -was far from pleasant to him; however, there seemed no help -<span class='pageno' id='Page_289'>289</span>for it and he could only balance it against the great relief of -being free from James Horner’s continual provocations.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Later in the evening, when supper was over, he went round -to see Herr Sivertsen about some fresh work, and on returning -to the model lodgings found Swanhild alone.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Where is Sigrid?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She has gone in to see the Hallifields,” replied the little -girl, glancing up from the newspaper which she was reading.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You look like the picture of Mother Hubbard’s dog, that -Lance is so fond of,” he said, smiling. “Your English must -be getting on, or you wouldn’t care for the <cite>Daily News</cite>. Are -you reading the praises of the Norse character?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>As he spoke he leaned over her shoulder to look at the letter -which Roy had mentioned; but Swanhild had turned to the -inner sheet and was deep in what seemed to her strangely interesting -questions and answers continued down three columns. -A hurried glance at the beginning showed Frithiof in -large type the words, “The Romiaux Divorce Case.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He tore the paper away from her, crushed it in his hands, -and threw it straight into the fire. Swanhild looked up in sudden -panic, terrified beyond measure by his white face and flashing -eyes, terrified still more by the unnatural tone in his voice -when he spoke.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are never to read such things,” he said vehemently. -“Do you understand? I am your guardian and I forbid you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It was only that I wanted to know about Blanche,” said -Swanhild, conscious that, in some way she could not explain, -he was unjust to her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But, unluckily, the mention of Blanche’s name was just the -one thing that Frithiof could not bear; he lost his self-control. -“Don’t begin to argue,” he said fiercely. “You ought to -have known better than to read that poisonous stuff! You -ought to be ashamed of yourself!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>This was more than Swanhild could endure; with a sense -of intolerable injury she left the parlor, locked herself into her -bedroom, and cried as if her heart would break, taking good -care, however, to stifle her sobs in the pillow, since she, too, -had her full share of the national pride.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is ungenerous of him to hate poor Blanche so,” she -thought to herself. “Whatever she has done I shall always -love her—always. And he had no right to speak so to me, it -was unfair—unfair! I didn’t know it was wrong to read the -paper. Father would never have scolded me for it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And in this she was quite right; only a very inexperienced -<span class='pageno' id='Page_290'>290</span>“guardian” could have made so great a mistake as to reproach -her and hold her to blame for quite innocently touching pitch. -Perhaps even Frithiof might have been wiser had not the sudden -shock and the personal pain of the discovery thrown him -off his balance.</p> - -<p class='c000'>When Sigrid returned in a few minutes she found him pacing -the room as restlessly as any wild beast at the Zoo.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Frithiof,” she said, “what is the matter with you? Have -you and Herr Sivertsen had a quarrel?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The matter is this” he said hoarsely, checking his restlessness -with an effort and leaning against the mantel-piece as he -talked to her. “I came back just now and found Swanhild -reading the newspaper—reading the Romiaux Divorce Case, -thoroughly fascinated by it too.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I had no idea it had begun,” said Sigrid. “We so seldom -see an English paper; how did this one happen to be lying -about?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Roy gave it to me to look at an account of Norway; I -didn’t know this was in it too. However, I gave Swanhild a -scolding that she’ll not soon forget.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid looked up anxiously, asking what he had said and -listening with great dissatisfaction to his reply.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You did very wrong indeed,” she said warmly. “You forget -that Swanhild is perfectly innocent and ignorant; you have -wronged her very cruelly, and she will feel that, though she -wont understand it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Now Frithiof, although he was proud and hasty, was neither -ungenerous nor conceited; as soon as he had cooled down and -looked at the question from this point of view, he saw at once -that he had been wrong.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I will go to her and beg her pardon,” he said at length.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, no, not just yet,” said Sigrid, with the feeling that men -were too clumsy for this sort of work. “Leave her to me.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She rapped softly at the bedroom door and after a minute’s -pause heard the key turned in the lock. When she entered the -room was quite dark, and Swanhild, with her face turned away, -was vigorously washing her hands. Sigrid began to hunt for -some imaginary need in her box, waiting till the hands were -dry before she touched on the sore subject. But presently she -plunged boldly into the heart of the matter.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Swanhild,” she said, “you are crying.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No,” said the child, driving back the tears that started -again to her eyes at this direct assertion, and struggling hard to -make her voice cheerful.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_291'>291</span>But Sigrid put her arm round her waist and drew her close.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Frithiof told me all about it, and I think he made a great -mistake in scolding you. Don’t think any more about it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But this was more than human nature could possibly promise; -all that she had read assumed now a tenfold importance -to the child. She clung to Sigrid, sobbing piteously.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He said I ought to be ashamed of myself, but I didn’t -know—I really didn’t know.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That was his great mistake,” said Sigrid quietly. “Now, -if he had found me reading that report he might justly have -reproached me, for I am old enough to know better. You see, -poor Blanche has done what is very wrong, she has broken her -promise to her husband and brought misery and disgrace on -all who belong to her. But to pry into all the details of such -sad stories does outsiders a great deal of harm; and now you -have been told that, I am sure you will never want to read -them again.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>This speech restored poor little Swanhild’s self-respect, but -nevertheless Sigrid noticed in her face all through the evening -a look of perplexity which made her quite wretched. And -though Frithiof was all anxiety to make up for his hasty scolding, -the look still remained, nor did it pass the next day; even -the excitement of dancing the shawl dance with all the pupils -looking on did not drive it away, and Sigrid began to fear that -the affair had done the child serious harm. Her practical, -unimaginative nature could not altogether understand Swanhild’s -dreamy, pensive tendencies. She herself loved one or -two people heartily, but she had no ideals, nor was she given to -hero-worship. Swanhild’s extravagant love for Blanche, a love -so ardent and devoted that it had lasted more than two years -in spite of every discouragement, was to her utterly incomprehensible; -she was vexed that the child should spend so much -on so worthless an object; it seemed to her wrong and unnatural -that the love of that pure, innocent little heart should be -lavished on such a woman as Lady Romiaux. It was impossible -for her to see how even this childish fancy was helping to -mold Swanhild’s character and fit her for her work in the -world; still more impossible that she should guess how the -child’s love should influence Blanche herself and change the -whole current of many lives.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But so it was; and while the daily life went on in its usual -grooves—Frithiof at the shop, Sigrid busy with the household -work, playing at the academy, and driving away thoughts of -Roy with the cares of other people—little Swanhild in desperation -<span class='pageno' id='Page_292'>292</span>took the step which meant so much more than she understood.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was Sunday afternoon. Frithiof had gone for a walk with -Roy, and Sigrid had been carried off by Madame Lechertier -for a drive. Swanhild was alone, and likely to be alone for -some time to come. “It is now or never,” she thought to herself; -and opening her desk, she drew from it a letter which -she had written the day before, and read it through very carefully. -It ran as follows:</p> - -<p class='c007'>“<span class='sc'>Dear Sir.</span>—It says in your prayer-book that if any can -not quiet their conscience, but require comfort and counsel, -they may come to any discreet and learned minister and open -their grief, thus avoiding all scruple and doubtfulness. I am -a Norwegian; not a member of your church, but I have often -heard you preach; and will you please let me speak to you, -for I am in a great trouble?</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>“I am, sir, yours very truly,</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='c014'>“<span class='sc'>Swanhild Falck</span>.”</div> - -<p class='c007'>Feeling tolerably satisfied with this production, she inclosed -it in an envelope, directed it to “The Rev. Charles Osmond, -Guilford Square,” put on her little black fur hat and her thick -jacket and fur cape, and hurried downstairs, leaving the key -with the door-keeper, and making all speed in the direction of -Bloomsbury.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Swanhild, though in some ways childish, as is usually the -case with the youngest of the family, was in other respects a -very capable little woman. She had been treated with respect -and consideration, after the Norwegian custom; she had been -consulted in the affairs of the little home commonwealth; and -of course had been obliged to go to and from school alone -every day, so she did not feel uncomfortable as she hastened -along the quiet Sunday streets; indeed, her mind was so taken -up with the thought of the coming interview that she scarcely -noticed the passers-by, and only paused once, when a little -doubtful whether she was taking the nearest way, to ask the -advice of a policeman.</p> - -<p class='c000'>At length she reached Guilford Square, and her heart began -to beat fast and her color to rise. All was very quiet here; -not a soul was stirring; a moldy-looking statue stood beneath -the trees in the garden; hospitals and institutions seemed to -abound; and Mr. Osmond’s house was one of the few private -<span class='pageno' id='Page_293'>293</span>houses still left in what, eighty years ago, had been a fashionable -quarter.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Swanhild mounted the steps, and then, overcome with shyness, -very nearly turned back and gave up her project; however, -though shy she was plucky, and making a valiant effort, -she rang the bell, and waited trembling, half with fear, half -with excitement.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The maid-servant who opened the door had such a pleasant -face that she felt a little reassured.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Is Mr. Osmond at home?” she asked, in her very best -English accent.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, miss,” said the servant.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then will you please give him this,” said Swanhild, handing -in the neatly written letter. “And I will wait for an -answer.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She was shown into a dining-room, and after a few minutes -the servant reappeared.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Mr. Osmond will see you in the study, miss,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And Swanhild, summoning up all her courage, followed her -guide, her blue eyes very wide open, her cheeks very rosy, her -whole expression so deprecating, so pathetic, that the veriest -ogre could not have found it in his heart to be severe with her. -She glanced up quickly, caught a glimpse of a comfortable -room, a blazing fire, and a tall, white-haired, white-bearded -man who stood on the hearth rug. A look of astonishment -and amusement just flitted over his face, then he came forward -to meet her, and took her hand in his so kindly that -Swanhild forgot all her fears, and at once felt at home with -him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am so glad to see you,” he said, making her sit down in -a big chair by the fire. “I have read your note, and shall be -very glad if I can help you in any way. But wait a minute. -Had you not better take off that fur cape, or you will catch -cold when you go out again?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Swanhild obediently took it off.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I didn’t know,” she said, “whether you heard confessions -or not, but I want to make one if you do.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He smiled a little, but quite kindly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, in the ordinary sense I do not hear confessions,” he -said. “That is to say, I think the habit of coming regularly -to confession is a bad habit, weakening to the conscience and -character of the one who confesses, and liable to abuse on the -part of the one who hears the confession. But the words you -quoted in your letter are words with which I quite agree, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_294'>294</span>if you have anything weighing on your mind and think that I -can help you, I am quite ready to listen.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Swanhild seemed a little puzzled by the very home-like and -ordinary appearance of the study. She looked round uneasily.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well?” said Charles Osmond, seeing her bewildered look.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I was wondering if people kneel down when they come to -confession,” said Swanhild, with a simple directness which -charmed him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Kneel down to talk to me!” he said, with a smile in his -eyes. “Why, no, my child; why should you do that? Sit -there by the fire and get warm, and try to make me understand -clearly what is your difficulty.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is just this,” said Swanhild, now entirely at her ease. -“I want to know if it is ever right to break a promise.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Certainly it is sometimes right,” said Charles Osmond. -“For instance, if you were to promise me faithfully to pick -some one’s pocket on your way home, you would be quite -right to break a promise which you never had any right to -make. Or if I were to say to you, ‘On no account tell any -one at your home that you have been here talking to me,’ and -you agreed, yet such a promise would rightly be broken, because -no outsider has any right to come between you and your -parents.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My father and mother are dead,” said Swanhild. “I live -with my brother and sister, who are much older than I am—I -mean really very old, you know—twenty-three. They are my -guardians; and what troubles me is that last summer I did -something and promised some one that I would never tell -them, and now I am afraid I ought not to have done it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What makes you think that?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, ever since then there has seemed to be a difference -at home, and, though I thought what I did would help Frithiof -and Sigrid, and make every one happier, yet it seems to have -somehow brought a cloud over the house. They have not -spoken to me about it, but ever since then Frithiof has had -such a sad look in his eyes.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Was it anything wrong that you promised to do—anything -that in itself was wrong, I mean?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, no,” said Swanhild; “the only thing that could have -made it wrong was my doing it for this particular person.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am afraid I can not follow you unless you tell me a little -more definitely. To whom did you make this promise? To -any one known to your brother and sister?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, they both know her; we knew her in Norway, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_295'>295</span>she was to have married Frithiof; but when he came over to -England he found her just going to be married to some one -else. I think it was that which changed him so very much; -but perhaps it was partly because at the same time we lost all -our money.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do your brother and sister still meet this lady?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, no; they never see her now, and never speak of her; -Sigrid is so very angry with her because she did not treat Frithiof -well. But I can’t help loving her still, she is so very beautiful; -and I think, perhaps, she is very sorry that she was so -unkind to Frithiof.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How did you come across her again?” asked Charles -Osmond.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Quite accidentally in the street, as I came home from -school,” said Swanhild. “She asked me so many questions -and seemed so sorry to know that we were so very poor, and -when she asked me to do this thing for her I only thought how -kind she was, and I did it, and promised that I would never -tell.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She had no right to make you promise that, for probably -your brother would not care for you still to know her, and certainly -would not wish to be under any obligation to her.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No; that was the reason why it was all to be a secret,” -said Swanhild. “And I never quite understood that it was -wrong till the other day, when I was reading the newspaper -about her, and Frithiof found me and was so very angry, and -threw the paper in the fire.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How did the lady’s name happen to be in the paper?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sigrid said it was because she had broken her promise to -her husband; it was written in very big letters—‘The Romiaux -Divorce Case,’” said Swanhild.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Charles Osmond started. For some minutes he was quite -silent. Then, his eyes falling once more on the wistful little -face that was trying so hard to read his thoughts, he smiled -very kindly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you know where Lady Romiaux is living?” he asked. -But Swanhild had no idea. “Well, never mind; I think I can -easily find out, for I happen to know one of the barristers who -was defending her. You had better, I think, sit down at my -desk and write her just a few lines, asking her to release you -from your promise; I will take it to her at once, and if you -like you can wait here till I bring back the answer.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But that will be giving you so much trouble,” said Swanhild, -“and on Sunday, too, when you have so much to do.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_296'>296</span>He took out his watch.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I shall have plenty of time,” he said, “and if I am fortunate -enough to find Lady Romiaux, you shall soon get rid of -your trouble.”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XXXIII' class='c005'>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>Having established Swanhild at the writing-table, Charles -Osmond left her for a few minutes and went up to the drawing-room; -it was one of those comfortable, old-fashioned rooms -which one seldom sees now, and resting on the sofa was one of -those old-world ladies whose sweet graciousness has such a -charm to the more restless end of the nineteenth century. No -less than four generations were represented in the room, for by -the fire sat Charles Osmond’s daughter-in-law, and on her knee -was her baby son—the delight of the whole house.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Erica,” he said, coming toward the hearth, “strangely -enough the very opportunity I wanted has come. I have been -asked to see Lady Romiaux on a matter connected with some -one who once knew her, so you see it is possible that after all -your wish may come true, and I may be of some use to her.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Erica looked up eagerly, her face which in repose was sad, -brightened wonderfully.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How glad I am, father! You know Donovan always said -there was so much that was really good in her, if only some one -could draw it out.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How did the case end?” asked Mrs. Osmond.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It ended in a disagreement of the jury,” replied her son, -“Why, I can’t understand, for the evidence was utterly against -her, according to Ferguson. I am just going round to see him -now, and find out her address from him, and in the mean time -there’s a dear little Norwegian girl in my study, who will wait -till I bring back an answer. Would you like her to come up -here?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, yes,” said Erica, “by all means let us have her if she -can talk English. Rae is waking up, you see, and we will -come down and fetch her.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Swanhild had just finished her letter when the door of the -study opened, and looking up she saw Charles Osmond once -more, and beside him a lady who seemed to her more lovely -than Blanche; she was a good deal older than Lady Romiaux -and less strikingly beautiful, but there was something in her -creamy-white coloring and short auburn hair, something in the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_297'>297</span>mingled sadness and sweetness of her face that took Swanhild’s -heart by storm.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“This is my daughter-in-law, Mrs. Brian Osmond, and this is -my grandson,” said Charles Osmond, allowing Rae’s tiny fingers -to play with his long white beard.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Will you come upstairs and stay with us till Mr. Osmond -comes back?” said Erica, shaking hands with her, and wondering -not a little what connection there could be between this -fair-haired, innocent little Norse girl and Lady Romiaux. And -then seeing that Swanhild was shy she kept her hand in hers -and led her up to the drawing-room, where, with the baby to -play with, she was soon perfectly happy, and chattering away -fast enough to the great amusement of old Mrs. Osmond, who -heard the whole story of the model lodgings, of the dancing -classes, and of the old home in Norway.</p> - -<p class='c000'>In the mean while Charles Osmond had reached his friend’s -chambers, and to his great satisfaction found him in.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“As far as I know,” replied Mr. Ferguson, “Lady Romiaux -is still in lodgings in George Street.” He drew a card from -his pocket-book and handed it to the clergyman. “That’s -the number; and to my certain knowledge she was there -yesterday. Her father wont have anything to do with -her.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Poor child!” said Charles Osmond, half to himself, “I wonder -what will become of her?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mr. Ferguson shrugged his shoulders.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, she’s brought it all on herself,” he said. “There is -no doubt whatever that she is guilty, and how the jury disagreed -I’m sure I don’t know.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Charles Osmond did not stay to discuss the matter, but made -the best of his way to George Street, and sent in his card with -a request that Lady Romiaux would, if possible, see him on a -matter of business.</p> - -<p class='c000'>In a minute or two he was ushered into a drawing-room, -which had the comfortless air of most lodging-house rooms; -standing on the hearthrug was a young, delicate-looking girl; -for a moment he did not recognize her as the Lady Romiaux -whose portraits were so well known, for trouble had sadly -spoiled her beauty, and her eyelids were red and swollen, either -with want of sleep or with many tears.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She bowed, then meeting his kindly eyes, the first eyes she -had seen for so long which did not stare at her in hateful curiosity, -or glance at her with shrinking disapproval, she came -quickly forward and put her hand in his.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_298'>298</span>“For what reason can you have come?” she exclaimed; -“you of all men.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He was struck with the wild look in her great dark eyes, and -intuitively knew that other work than the delivery of little -Swanhild’s letter awaited him here.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why do you say, ‘Of all men’ in that tone?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Because you are one of the very few men who ever made -me wish to do right,” she said quickly. “Because I used sometimes -to come to your church—till—till I did not dare to come, -because what you said made me so miserable!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My poor child,” he said; “there are worse things than to -be miserable; you are miserable now, but your very misery -may lead you to peace.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, no,” she sobbed, sinking down on the sofa and hiding -her face in her hands. “My life is over—there is nothing left -for me. And yet,” she cried, lifting her head and turning her -wild eyes toward him, “yet I have not the courage to die, even -though my life is a misery to me and a snare to every one I -come across.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Are you alone here?” he asked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes; my father and mother will have nothing to say to -me—and there is no one else—I mean no one else that I -would have.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He breathed more freely.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You must not say your life is over,” he replied. “Your -life in society is over, it is true, but there is something much -better than that which you may now begin. Be sure that if you -wish to do right it is still possible for you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ah, but I can’t trust myself.” she sobbed. “It will be so -very difficult all alone.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Leave that for God to arrange,” he said. “Your part is -to trust to Him and try your best to do right. Tell me, do -you not know my friend Donovan Farrant, the member for -Greyshot?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She brushed the tears from her eyes and looked up more -quietly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I met him once at a country house in Mountshire,” she said, -“He and his wife were there just for two days, and they were -so good to me. I think he guessed that I was in danger then, -for one day he walked with me in the grounds, and he spoke -to me as no one had ever spoken before. He saw that my husband -and I had quarreled, and he saw that I was flirting out of -spite with—with—well, no matter! But he spoke straight out, -so that if it hadn’t been for his wonderful tact and goodness -<span class='pageno' id='Page_299'>299</span>I should have been furious with him. And he told me how -the thing that had saved him all through his life was the influence -of good women; and just for a few days I did want to -be good, and to use my power rightly. But the Farrants went -away, and I vexed my husband again and we had another quarrel, -and when he was gone down to speak at Colonel Adair’s -election, I went to stay, against his wish, at Belcroft Park; -and when I had done that, it seemed as if I were running right -down a steep hill and really couldn’t stop myself.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But now,” said Charles Osmond, “you must begin to climb -the hill once more. You must be wondering through all this -time what was the errand that brought me here. I brought you -this letter from a little Norwegian girl—Swanhild Falck. In -the midst of your great trouble I dare say her trouble will seem -very trifling, still I hope you will be able to release her from her -promise, for it is evidently weighing on her mind.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That’s another instance of the harm I do wherever I go,” -said poor Blanche, reading the letter, “and in this case I was -really trying to undo the past, very foolishly as I see now. Tell -Swanhild that she is quite free from her promise, and that if it -has done harm I am sorry. But I always do harm! Do you remember -that story of Nathaniel Hawthorne’s about the daughter -of the botanist, who was brought up on the juices of a beautiful -poison-plant, and who poisoned with her breath every one -that came near her? I think I am like that.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I remember it,” he replied. “A weird, unwholesome story. -But if I remember right, the heroine died herself rather than -poison others.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, and that is what I wish to do,” she said, with once -more that look in her eyes which had startled him. “But I am -a coward; I haven’t the courage.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Wait,” he said gravely: “there is a real truth in your idea, -but do not set about it in a wrong way. To seek physical -death would only be to take another wrong step. It is not -you, but your selfishness that must die.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But if I were not what you would call selfish, if I did not -love to attract men and make them do just what I please, if I -did not enjoy the feeling that they are in love with me, I should -no longer be myself,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You would no longer be your false self,” he replied. -“You would be your true self. Do you think God made you -beautiful that you might be a snare in the world? He made -you to be a joy and a blessing, and you have abused one of his -best gifts.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_300'>300</span>She began to cry again, to sob piteously, almost like a child.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Charles Osmond spoke once more, and there was a great -tenderness in his voice.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You have found now that self-pleasing brings misery to -yourself and every one else. I know you wish to do right, but -you must do more than that; you must resolutely give your -body, soul, and spirit to God, desiring only to do his will.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She looked up once more, speaking with the vehemence of -despair.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh,” she said, “it seems all real now while I talk to you, -but I know it will fade away, and the temptations will be much -more strong. You don’t know what the world is—you are good, -and you have no time to see with your own eyes how, underneath -all that is so respectable, it is hollow and wicked.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It will be your own fault if you are not stronger than the -temptations with which God allows you to be assailed,” he -said. “You loathe and fear evil, and that is a step in the right -direction, but now you must turn right away from it, and learn -to look at purity, and goodness, and love. Don’t believe that -vice is to conquer—that is the devil’s lie. The strength of the -Infinite the love of the All-Father will conquer—and that love -and that strength are for you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What!” sobbed Blanche, “for a woman who has dishonored -her name—a woman cast out of society?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Charles Osmond took her hand in his strong, firm clasp.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, my child,” he said, “they are for you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>There was a long silence.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And now,” he said, at length, “unless you have any other -friends to whom you would rather go, I am going to ask you to -come home with me. I can promise you at least rest and shelter, -and a welcome from my dear old mother, who, being very near -to the other world, does not judge people after the custom of -this one.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But,” she said, with a look of mingled relief and perplexity, -“how can I let you do so much for a mere stranger? Oh, I -should like to come—but—but—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are no longer a stranger,” he replied, “And you must -not refuse me this. You shall see no one at all if you prefer -it. Ours is a busy house, but in some ways it is the quietest -house in London. My son and his wife live with us. They, -too, will be so glad if we can be of any use to you. Come, I -can not leave you here in this loneliness.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you mean that I am to come now?” she said, starting up.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, if you will,” he replied. “But I will go and call a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_301'>301</span>hansom; and since I am in rather a hurry, perhaps you will -let your maid follow with your things later on in the evening.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>So in a few minutes they were driving together to Guilford -Square, and Blanche was transplanted from her miserable loneliness -into the heart of one of the happiest homes in the country. -Leaving her in the study, Charles Osmond went in search -of Swanhild.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is all right,” he said, handing her a little note in Blanche’s -writing; and while the child eagerly read it he turned to his -daughter-in-law.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Will you tell them to get the spare room ready, Erica, -dear?” he said. “I have persuaded Lady Romiaux to stay -with us for a little while.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Swanhild caught the words, and longed to ask to see Blanche, -but she remembered that Sigrid would not like it; and then, -with a sudden recollection that the afternoon was almost over, -and that she must go home, she thanked Charles Osmond, -reluctantly parted with the baby, kissed old Mrs. Osmond and -Erica, who made her promise to come and see them again, and -hurried back to the model lodgings.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her happiness and relief, and the pleasurable excitement of -having learned to know a new and delightful family, were slightly -clouded by the uncomfortable thought of the confession that -lay before her. What would Frithiof and Sigrid say to her? -And how should she put into words the story of what she more -and more felt to have been a wrong and foolish, and very -childish scheme of help?</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, how I wish it were over!” she thought, to herself, as -she marched on to her disagreeable work like a little Trojan. -Big Ben was striking five as she crossed the court-yard. She -had been away from home more than two hours. She hurried -on to the porter’s office, and asked breathlessly for the key.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Mr. Falck took it ten minutes ago,” said the man.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And Swanhild turned away with a sigh and a little shiver, -and began very slowly to mount the stone stairs.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh! what will he say to me?” she thought, as she clasped -Blanche’s note fast in her little cold hands.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XXXIV' class='c005'>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>Although she had climbed the stairs so slowly, poor Swanhild -was still out of breath when she reached the door leading -into the little parlor; she paused a moment to recover herself, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_302'>302</span>and, hearing voices within, became a degree more miserable, -for she had counted upon finding Frithiof alone. Clearly Sigrid -must also have returned, and, indeed, things were even -worse than that, for as she opened the door and emerged round -the Japanese screen she saw Roy standing by the fire; for this -she had been utterly unprepared, and, indeed, it was very seldom -that he came now to the model lodgings.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“At last!” exclaimed Frithiof, “why, Swanhild, where on -earth have you been to? We were just thinking of having you -cried.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We were preparing an advertisement to appear in all the -papers to-morrow morning,” said Roy, laughing, “and were -just trying to agree as to the description; you’ll hardly believe -me, but your guardian hadn’t the least notion what color your -eyes are.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof drew her toward him, smiling.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Let me see now in case she is ever lost again,” he said, but -noticing a suspicious moisture in the blue eyes he no longer -teased her, but made her sit down on his knee and drew off her -gloves.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What is the matter, dear?” he said, “you look cold and -tired; where have you been to?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have been to see Mr. Osmond,” said Swanhild, “you -know we often go to his church, Sigrid and I, and there was -something I wanted to ask him about. Last summer I made -a promise which I think was wrong, and I wanted to know -whether I might break it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What did he say?” asked Frithiof, while Sigrid and Roy -listened in silent astonishment.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He said that a wrong promise ought to be broken, and he -managed to get me leave to speak from the person to whom I -made the promise. And now I am going to tell you about it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof could feel how the poor little thing was trembling.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Don’t be frightened, darling,” he said, “just tell us everything -and no one shall interrupt you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She gave his hand a grateful little squeeze and went on.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It happened just after we had come back from the sea last -June. I was coming home from school on Saturday morning -when, just outside the court-yard, I met Lady Romiaux. Just -for a moment I did not know her, but she knew me directly, -and stopped me and said how she had met you and Sigrid at a -party and had ever since been so miserable to think that we -were so poor, and somehow she had found out our address, and -wanted to know all about us, only when she actually got to the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_303'>303</span>door she did not like to come in. And she said she was so -glad to see me, and asked all sorts of questions, and when she -heard that you meant to pay off the debts she looked so sad, -and she said that the bankruptcy was all her fault, and she -asked how much I thought you had got toward it, and seemed -quite horrified to think what a little it was, and what years the -work would take. And then she said to me that she wanted -to help, too, just a little, only that you must never know, and -she thought I could easily pay in a five-pound note to your account -at the bank, she said, without your knowing anything -about it. She made me promise to do it secretly, and never to -tell that it was from her. You can’t think how kindly she said -it all, and how dreadfully sad she looked—I don’t think I could -possibly have said ‘no’ to her. But afterward I began to see -that I couldn’t very well pay the note into your account at the -post-office, for I hadn’t got your little book that you always -take, and besides I didn’t know which office you went to. So -I worried about it all the next day, which was Sunday, and in -the evening at church it suddenly came into my head that I -would put it with your other money inside your waistcoat -pocket.” Roy made an involuntary movement, Sigrid drew a -little nearer, but Frithiof never stirred. Swanhild continued:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“So the next morning, when I went into your bedroom to -wake you up, I slipped the note into your pocket, and then I -thought, just supposing you were to lose it, it seemed so light -and so thin, and I pinned it to the lining to make it quite safe. -You were sleeping very soundly, and were quite hard to wake -up. At first I felt pretty happy about it, and I thought if you -asked me if I had put it there when you found it out I should -be able to say ‘yes’ and yet to keep Blanche’s secret. But you -never said a word about it, and I was sure something had -troubled you very much, and I was afraid it must be that, yet -dared not speak about it and I tried to find out from Sigrid, -but she only said that you had many troubles which I was too -young to understand. It often made me very unhappy, but -I never quite understood that I had done wrong till the night -you found me reading the paper, and then I thought that I -ought not to have made the promise to Lady Romiaux. This -is the note which Mr. Osmond brought me from her.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof took the little crumpled sheet and read it.</p> - -<p class='c007'>“<span class='sc'>Dear Swanhild</span>: You are quite free to speak about that -five-pound note, I never ought to have made you promise secrecy, -and indeed, gave the money just by a sudden impulse. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_304'>304</span>It was a foolish thing to do, as I see now, but I meant it well. -I hope you will all forgive me. Yours affectionately,</p> - -<div class='c014'>“<span class='sc'>Blanche.</span>”</div> - -<p class='c007'>Then Roy and Sigrid read the note together, and Roy -grasped Frithiof’s hand.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Will you ever forgive me?” he said. “Cecil was right, and -I ought to have known that this miserable affair would one day -be explained.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof still looked half-stunned, he could not realize that -the cloud had at last dispersed, he was so taken up with the -thought of the extraordinary explanation of the mystery—of the -childish, silly, little plan that had brought about such strange -results.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, Swanhild!” cried Sigrid, “if only you had spoken -sooner how much pain might have been saved.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Don’t say that,” said Frithiof, rousing himself, “she has -chosen the right time, depend upon it. I can hardly believe -it at all yet. But, oh! to think of having one’s honor once -more unstained—and this death in life over!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What do you mean? What do you mean?” sobbed poor -little Swanhild, utterly perplexed by the way in which her confession -had been received.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Tell her,” said Sigrid, glancing at Roy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>So he told her exactly what had happened in the shop on -that Monday in June.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We kept it from you,” said Frithiof, “because I liked to -feel that there was at any rate one person unharmed by my -disgrace, and because you seemed so young to be troubled with -such things.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But how can it have happened?” said Swanhild; “who -took the note really from the till?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It must have been Darnell,” said Roy. “He was present -when Sardoni got the change, he saw James Horner put away -the note, he must have managed during the time that you two -were alone in the shop to take it out, and no doubt if he had -been searched first the other five-pound note would have been -found on him. What a blackguard the man must be to have -let you suffer for him! I’ll have the truth out of him before -I’m a day older.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh! Frithiof, Frithiof! I’m so dreadfully sorry,” sobbed -poor Swanhild. “I thought it would have helped you, and it -has done nothing but harm.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But Frithiof stooped down and silenced her with a kiss -<span class='pageno' id='Page_305'>305</span>“You see the harm it has done,” he said, “but you don’t see -the good. Come, stop crying, and let us have tea, for your -news has given me an appetite, and I’m sure you are tired and -hungry after all this.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But could it ever have entered any one’s head that such an -improbable thing should actually happen?” said Roy, as he -mused over the story. “To think that Sardoni should get -change for his note, and Darnell steal it on the very day that -Swanhild had given you that unlucky contribution to the debt-fund!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is just one of those extraordinary coincidences which do -happen in life,” said Sigrid. “I believe if every one could be -induced to tell all the strange things of the kind that had -happened we should see that they are after all pretty common -things.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I wonder if there is a train to Plymouth to-night?” said -Roy. “I shall not rest till I have seen Darnell. For nothing -less than his confession signed and sealed will satisfy James -Horner. Do you happen to have a Bradshaw?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, but we have something better,” said Sigrid, smiling; -“on the next landing there is Owen, one of the Great Western -guards. I know he is at home, for I passed him just now on -the stairs, and he will tell you about the trains.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What a thing it is to live in model lodgings!” said Roy, -smiling. “You seem to me to keep all the professions on the -premises. Come, Frithiof, do go and interview this guard and -ask him how soon I can get down to Plymouth and back again.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof went out, there was still a strange look of abstraction -in his face. “I scarcely realized before how much he had -felt this,” said Roy. “What a fool I was to be so positive that -my own view of the case was right! Looking at it from my -own point of view I couldn’t realize how humiliating it must -all have been to him—how exasperating to know that you were -in the right yet not to be able to convince any one.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It has been like a great weight on him all through the autumn,” -said Sigrid, “and yet I know what he meant when he -told Swanhild, that it had done him good as well as harm. -Don’t you remember how at one time he cared for nothing but -clearing off the debts? Well, now, though he works hard at -that, yet he cares for other people’s troubles too—that is no -longer his one idea.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And then because she knew that Roy was thinking of the -hope that this change had brought into their lives, and because -her cheeks grew provokingly hot, she talked fast and continuously, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_306'>306</span>afraid to face her own thoughts, yet all the time conscious -of such happiness as she had not known for many -months.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Before long Frithiof returned.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t think you can do it,” he said. “Owen tells me -there is a train from Paddington at 9.50 this evening, but it -isn’t a direct one and you wont get to Plymouth till 9.28 to-morrow -morning. A most unconscionable time, you see.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why not write to Darnell?” suggested Sigrid.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, no, he would get out of it in some mean way. I intend -to pounce on him unexpectedly, and in that way to get at the -truth,” replied Roy. “This train will do very well. I shall -sleep on the way, but I must just go to Regent Street and get -the fellow’s address.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>This, however, Frithiof was able to tell him, and they lingered -long over the tea-table, till at length Roy remembered -that it might be as well to see his father and let him know what -had happened before starting for Devonshire. Very reluctantly -he left the little parlor, but he took away with him the grateful -pressure of Sigrid’s hand, the sweet, bright glance of her -blue eyes, and the echo of her last words, spoken softly and -sweetly in her native language.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<i><span lang="no" xml:lang="no">Farvel! Tak skal De have.</span></i>” (Farewell! Thanks you -shall have.) Why had she spoken to him in Norse? Was it -perhaps because she wished him to feel that he was no foreigner, -but one of themselves? Whatever her reason, it touched him -and pleased him that she had spoken just in that way, and it -was with a very light heart that he made his way to Rowan -Tree House.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The lamp was not lighted in the drawing-room, but there -was a blazing fire, and on the hearth-rug sat Cecil with Lance -nestled close to her, listening with all his ears to one of the -hero stories which she always told him on Sunday evenings.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Has father gone to chapel?” asked Roy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, some time ago,” replied Cecil. “Is anything the matter?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Something told her that Roy’s unexpected appearance was -connected with Frithiof, and, accustomed always to fear for -him, her heart almost stood still.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Don’t look so frightened,” said Roy, as the firelight -showed him her dilated eyes. “Nothing is the matter—I -have brought home some very good news. Frithiof is -cleared, and that wretched business of the five-pound note -fully explained.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_307'>307</span>“At last!” she exclaimed. “What a relief! But how? Do -tell me all.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He repeated Swanhild’s story, and then, hoping to catch his -father in the vestry before the service began, he hurried off, -leaving Cecil to the only companionship she could have borne -in her great happiness—that of little Lance.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But Roy found himself too late to catch his father, there was -nothing for it but to wait, and, anxious to speak to him at the -earliest opportunity, he made his way into the chapel that -he might get hold of him when the service was over, for otherwise -there was no saying how long he might not linger talking -with the other deacons, who invariably wanted to ask his advice -about a hundred and one things.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He was at this moment giving out the hymn, and Roy liked -to hear him do this once more; it carried him back to his boyhood—to -the times when there had been no difference of opinion -between them. He sighed just a little, for there is a sadness -in all division because it reminds us that we are still in the -days of school-time, that life is as yet imperfect, and that by -different ways, not as we should wish all in the same way, we -are being trained and fitted for a perfect unity elsewhere.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mr. Boniface was one of those men who are everywhere the -same; he carried his own atmosphere about with him, and sitting -now in the deacon’s seat beneath the pulpit he looked precisely -as he did in his home or in his shop. It was the same -quiet dignity, that was noticeable in him, the same kindly -spirit, the same delightful freedom from all self-importance. -One could hardly look at him without remembering the fine -old saying, “A Christian is God Almighty’s gentleman.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>When, by and by, he listened to Roy’s story, told graphically -enough as they walked home together, his regret for -having misjudged Frithiof was unbounded. He was almost -as impatient to get hold of Darnell as his son was.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Still,” he observed, “you will not gain much by going to-night, -why not start to-morrow by the first train?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If I go now,” said Roy, “I shall be home quite early -to-morrow evening, and Tuesday is Christmas eve—a wretched -day for traveling. Besides, I can’t wait.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Both father and mother knew well enough that it was the -thought of Sigrid that had lent him wings, and Mr. Boniface -said no more, only stipulating that he should be just and generous -to the offender.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Don’t visit your own annoyance on him, and don’t speak -too hotly,” he said. “Promise him that he shall not be prosecuted -<span class='pageno' id='Page_308'>308</span>or robbed of his character if only he will make full confession, -and see what it was that led him to do such a thing, -I can’t at all understand it. He always seemed to me a most -steady, respectable man.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Roy being young and having suffered severely himself -through Darnell’s wrong-doing, felt anything but judicial as he -traveled westward on that cold December night; he vowed -that horsewhipping would be too good for such a scoundrel, -and rehearsed interviews in which his attack was brilliant -and Darnell’s defense most feeble. Then he dozed a little, -dreamed of Sigrid, woke cold and depressed to find that he -must change carriages at Bristol, and finally after many vicissitudes -was landed at Plymouth at half-past nine on a damp -and cheerless winter morning.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Now that he was actually there he began to dislike the -thought of the work before him, and to doubt whether after all -his attack would be as brilliant in reality as in imagination. -Rather dismally he made a hasty breakfast and then set off -through the wet, dingy streets to the shop where Darnell was -at present employed. To his relief he found that it was not a -very large one, and, on entering, discovered the man he sought, -behind the counter and quite alone. As he approached him -he watched his face keenly; Darnell was a rather good-looking -man, dark, pale, eminently respectable; he looked up -civilly at the supposed customer,—then, catching sight of Roy, -he turned a shade paler and gave an involuntary start of surprise.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Mr. Robert!” he stammered.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, Darnell; I see you know what I have come for,” said -Roy quietly. “It was certainly a very strange, a most extraordinary -coincidence that Mr. Falck should, unknown to himself, -have had another five-pound note in his pocket that day last -June, but it has been fully explained. Now I want your -explanation.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sir!” gasped Darnell; “I don’t understand you; I—I -am at a loss—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Come, don’t tell any more lies about it,” said Roy impatiently. -“We knew now that you must have taken it, for no -one else was present. Only confess the truth and you shall -not be prosecuted; you shall not lose your situation here. -What induced you to do it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Don’t be hard on me, sir,” stammered the man. “I assure -you I’ve bitterly regretted it many a time.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then why did you not make a clean breast of it to my -<span class='pageno' id='Page_309'>309</span>father?” said Roy. “You might have known that he would -never be hard on you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I wish I had,” said Darnell, in great distress; “I wish to -God I had, sir, for it’s been a miserable business from first to -last. But I was in debt, and there was nothing but ruin before -me, and I thought of my wife who was ill, and I knew that the -disgrace would kill her.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“So you went and disgraced yourself still more,” said Roy -hotly. “You tried to ruin another man instead of yourself.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But he wasn’t turned off,” said Darnell. “And they put -it all on his illness, and it seemed as if, after all, it would not -hurt him so much. It was a great temptation, and when I had -once given way to it there seemed no turning back.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Tell me just how you took it,” said Roy, getting rather -more calm and judicial in his manner.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I saw Mr. Horner give Signor Sardoni the change, sir, and -I saw him put the note in the till; and I was just desperate -with being in debt and not knowing how to get straight again.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But wait a minute—how had you got into such difficulties?” -interrupted Roy. “And how could a five-pound note -help you out again?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, sir, I had been unlucky in a betting transaction, but -I thought I could right myself if only I could get something to -try again with; but there wasn’t a soul I could borrow from. -I thought I should get straight again at once if only I had five -pounds in hand, and so I did, sir; I was on my feet again the -very next day.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I might have known it was betting that had ruined you,” -said Roy. “Now go back and tell me when you took the note.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I kept on thinking and planning through the afternoon, sir, -and then, presently, all was quiet, and only Mr. Falck with me -in the shop, and I was just wondering how to get rid of him, -when Mr. Horner opened the door of Mr. Boniface’s room and -called to me. Then I said, ‘Do go, Mr. Falck, for I have an -order to write to catch the post.’ And he went for me, and I -hurried across to his counter while he was gone, and took the -note out of his till and put it inside my boot; and when he -came back he found me writing at my desk just as he had left -me. He came up looking a little put out, as if Mr. Horner -had rubbed him the wrong way, and he says to me, ‘It’s no -use; you must go yourself, after all.’ So I went to Mr. Horner, -leaving Mr. Falck alone in the shop.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Were you not afraid lest he should open the till and find -out that the note was gone?”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_310'>310</span>“Yes, I was very much afraid. But all went well, and I -intended to go out quickly at tea-time—it was close upon it -then—and do what I could to get it straight again. I thought -I could invent an excuse for not returning to the shop that -night; say I’d been taken suddenly ill or something of that -sort. It was Mr. Falck’s turn to go first; and while he was -out, as ill-luck would have it, Mr. Horner came to take change -from the till, and then all the row began. I made sure I was -ruined, and no one was more surprised than myself at the turn -that affairs took.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But,” exclaimed Roy, “when you were once more out of -debt, how was it that you did not confess, and do what you -could to make up for your shameful conduct?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, sir, I hadn’t the courage. Sometimes I thought I -would; and then, again, I couldn’t make up my mind to; and -I got to hate Mr. Falck, and I hated him more because he behaved -well about it; and I got into the way of spiting him and -making the place disagreeable to him; and I hoped that he -would leave. But he stuck to his post through it all; and I -began to think that it would be safer that I should leave, for I -felt afraid of him somehow. So at Michaelmas I took this situation. -And oh! sir, for my wife’s sake don’t ruin me; don’t -expose all this to my employer!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I promised you just now that you should not be exposed; -but you must write a few words of confession to my father; -and be quick about it, for I want to catch the express to -London.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Darnell, who was still pale and agitated, seized pen and -paper, and wrote a few words of apology and a clear confession. -To write was hard, but he was in such terror lest his employers -should return and discover his miserable secret that he dared -not hesitate—dared not beat about the bush.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Roy watched him with some curiosity, wondering now that -he had not suspected the man sooner. But, as a matter of -fact, Darnell had been perfectly self-possessed until his guilt -was discovered; it was the exposure that filled him with shame -and confusion, not the actual dishonesty.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t know how to thank you enough, sir, for your -leniency,” he said, when he had written, in as few words as -possible, the statement of the facts.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, just let the affair be a lesson to you,” said Roy. -“There’s a great deal said about drunkenness being the -national sin, but I believe it is betting that is at the root of -half the evils of the day. Fortunately, things are now set -<span class='pageno' id='Page_311'>311</span>straight as far as may be, yet remember that you have wronged -and perhaps irrevocably injured a perfectly innocent man.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I bitterly regret it, sir; I do, indeed,” said Darnell.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I hope you do,” said Roy; “I am sure you ought to.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And while Darnell still reiterated thanks, and apologies, and -abject regrets, Roy stalked out of the shop and made his way -back to the station.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“To think that I believed in that cur, and doubted Falck!” -he said to himself with disgust. “And yet, could any one -have seemed more respectable than Darnell? more thoroughly -trustworthy? And how could I disbelieve the evidence that -was so dead against Frithiof? Sigrid and Cecil trusted him, -and I ought to have done so too, I suppose; but women seem -to me to have a faculty for that sort of thing which we are -quite without.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then, after a time, he remembered that the last barrier that -parted him from Sigrid was broken down; and it was just as -well that he had the railway carriage to himself, for he began -to sing so jubilantly that the people in the next compartment -took him for a school-boy returning for his Christmas holidays.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It had been arranged that if he could catch the express from -Plymouth he should meet his father at the shop, and arriving -at Paddington at half-past six he sprang into a hansom and -drove as quickly as possible to Regent Street.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof just glanced at him inquiringly as he passed through -the shop, then, reassured by the expression of his face, turned -once more to the fidgety and impatient singing-master who, -for the last quarter of an hour, had been keeping him hard at -work in hunting up every conceivable song that was difficult to -find, and which, when found, was sure to prove unsatisfactory.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He wondered much what had passed at Plymouth, and when -at last he had got rid of his customer, Roy returned to the shop -with such evident excitement and triumph in his manner that -old Foster thought he must be taking leave of his senses.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My father wants to speak to you, Frithiof,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And Frithiof followed him into the little inner room which -had been the scene of such disagreeable interviews in the past. -A strange, dreamlike feeling came over him as he recalled the -wretched summer day when the detective had searched him, -and in horrible, bewildered misery he had seen the five-pound -note, lying on that same leather-covered table, an inexplicable -mystery and a damning evidence against him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But visions of the past faded as Mr. Boniface grasped his -hand. “How can I ever apologize enough to you, Frithiof!” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_312'>312</span>he said. “Roy has brought back a full confession from Darnell, -and the mystery is entirely cleared up. You must forgive -me for the explanation of the affair that I was content with last -summer—I can’t tell you how I regret all that you have had to -suffer.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Here is Darnell’s letter,” said Roy, handing it to him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And Frithiof read it eagerly, and asked the details of his -friend’s visit to Plymouth.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Will this satisfy Mr. Horner, do you think?” he said, when -Roy had told him all about his interview with Darnell.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It cannot fail to convince every one,” said Mr. Boniface. -“It is proof positive that you are free from all blame and that -we owe you every possible apology and reparation.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You think that Mr. Horner will be content, and will really -sign the fresh deed of partnership?” said Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He will be forced to see that your honor is entirely vindicated,” -said Mr. Boniface. “But I shall not renew the offer of -partnership to him. He has behaved very ill to you, he has -been insolent to me, and I am glad that, as far as business goes, -our connection is at an end. All that is quite settled. And -now we have a proposal to make to you. We want you, if -nothing better has turned up, to accept a junior partnership in -our firm.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof was so staggered by the unexpectedness of this offer -that for a moment or two he could not say a word.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are very good,” he said at length. “Far, far too -good and kind to me. But how can I let you do so much for -me—how can I let you take as partner a man who has no -capital to bring into the business?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My dear boy, money is not the only thing wanted in business,” -said Mr. Boniface, laying his hand on Frithiof’s shoulder. -“If you bring no capital with you bring good abilities, -a great capacity for hard work, and a high sense of honor; -and you will bring too, what I value very much—a keen sympathy -with those employed by you, and a real knowledge of their -position and its difficulties.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I dare not refuse your offer,” said Frithiof. “I can’t do -anything but gratefully accept it, but I have done nothing to -deserve such kindness from you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It will be a comfort to me,” said Mr. Boniface, “to feel -that Roy has some one with whom he can work comfortably. -I am growing old, and shall not be sorry to do a little less, and -to put some of my burden on to younger shoulders.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And then, after entering a little more into detail as to the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_313'>313</span>proposed plan, the three parted, and Frithiof hurried home -eager to tell Sigrid and Swanhild of the great change that had -some over their affairs.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XXXV' class='c005'>CHAPTER XXXV.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>Cheerfulness reigned once more in the model lodgings. -As Frithiof opened the door of the parlor he heard such talking -and laughter as there had not been for some time past, -despite Sigrid’s laudable endeavors. Swanhild came dancing -to meet him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Look! look!” she cried, “we have got the very dearest -little Christmas tree that ever was seen. And Madame Lechertier -has promised to come to tea to-morrow afternoon, and we -are going out presently to buy the candles for it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Unheard-of extravagance,” he said, looking at the little fir -tree upon which Sigrid was fastening the candle-holders.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Only a shilling,” she said apologetically. “And this year -we really couldn’t do without one. But you have brought some -good news—I can see it in your face. Oh, tell me, Frithiof—tell -me quickly just what happened.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, Darnell has made a full confession for one thing,” -he replied. “So the last vestige of the cloud has disappeared. -You can’t think how nice the other men were when they heard -about it. Old Foster gave me such a hand-shake that my arm -aches still.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And Mr. Boniface?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You can fancy just what he would be as far as kindness -and all that goes. But you will never guess what he has done. -How would you like to count our savings toward the debt-fund -by hundreds instead of by units?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What do you mean?” she cried.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I mean that he has offered me the junior partnership,” said -Frithiof, watching her face with keen delight, and rewarded -for all he had been through by her rapture of happiness and -her glad surprise.</p> - -<p class='c000'>As for Swanhild, in the reaction after the long strain of -secret anxiety which had tried her so much all the autumn, she -was like a wild thing; she laughed and sang, danced and chattered, -and would certainly never have eaten any supper had she -not set her heart on going out to buy Christmas presents at a -certain shop in Buckingham Palace Road, which she was sure -would still be open.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_314'>314</span>“For it is just the sort of shop for people like us,” she -explained, “people who are busy all day and can only do their -shopping in the evening.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>So presently they locked up the rooms and all three went out -together on the merriest shopping expedition that ever was -known. There was a feeling of Yule-tide in the very air, and -the contentment and relief in their own hearts seemed to be -reflected on every one with whom they came in contact. The -shops seemed more enticing than usual, the presents more fascinating, -the servers more obliging and ready to enter into the -spirit of the thing. Swanhild, with five shillings of her own -earning to lay out on Christmas gifts, was in the seventh heaven -of happiness; Sigrid, with her own secret now once more a joy -and not a care, moved like one in a happy dream; while -Frithiof, free from the miserable cloud of suspicion, freed, -moreover, by all that he had lived through from the hopelessness -of the struggle, was the most perfectly happy of all. -Sometimes he forced himself to remember that it was through -these very streets that he had wandered in utter misery when -he first came to London; and recollecting from what depths -Sigrid had saved him, he thought of her with a new and strange -reverence—there was nothing he would not have done for her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>His reflections were interrupted by Swanhild’s voice.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We will have every one from Rowan Tree House, wont -we?” she said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And Herr Sivertsen,” added Sigrid. “He must certainly -come, because he is all alone.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And whatever happens, we must have old Miss Charlotte,” -said Frithiof; “but it strikes me we shall have to ask people -to bring their own mugs, like children at a school-treat.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But Sigrid scouted this suggestion, and declared that the blue -and white china would just go round, while, as to chairs, they -could borrow two or three from the neighbors.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then came the return home, and the dressing of the tree, -amid much fun and laughter, and the writing of the invitations, -which must be posted that night. In all London there could -not have been found a merrier household. All the past cares -were forgotten; even the sorrows which could not be healed -had lost their sting, and the Christmas promised to be indeed -full of peace and goodwill.</p> - -<p class='c000'>How ten people—to say nothing of Lance and Gwen—managed -to stow themselves away in the little parlor was a mystery -to Frithiof. But Sigrid was a person of resources, and while -he was out the next day she made all sorts of cunning arrangements, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_315'>315</span>decorated the room with ivy and holly, and so disposed -the furniture that there was a place for every one.</p> - -<p class='c000'>At half-past four the guests began to arrive. First Mrs. -Boniface and Cecil with the children, who helped to light the -tree; then Madame Lechertier, laden with boxes of the most -delicious <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">bonbons</span></i> for every one of the party, and soon after there -came an abrupt knock, which they felt sure could only have -been given by Herr Sivertsen. Swanhild ran to open the door -and to take his hat and coat from him. Her eager welcome -seemed to please the old man, for his great massive forehead -was unusually free from wrinkles as he entered and shook -hands with Sigrid, and he bowed and smiled quite graciously as -she introduced him to the other guests. Then he walked round -the Christmas tree with an air of satisfaction, and even stooped -forward and smelled it.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“So,” he said contentedly, “you keep up the old customs, I -see! I’m glad of it—I’m glad of it. It’s years since I saw a -properly dressed tree. And the smell of it! Great heavens! -it makes me feel like a boy again! I’m glad you don’t follow -with the multitude, but keep to the good old Yule ceremonies.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>In the mean time Cecil was pouring out tea and coffee in -the kitchen, where, for greater convenience, the table had -been placed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sigrid has allowed me to be lady-help and not visitor,” she -said laughingly to Frithiof. “I told her she must be in the -other room to talk to every one after the English fashion, for -you and Swanhild will be too busy fetching and carrying.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am glad to have a chance of saying one word alone to -you,” said Frithiof. “Are you sure that Mrs. Boniface does -not object to this new plan as to the partnership?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, she is delighted about it,” said Cecil. “And she -will tell you so when she has you to herself. I am so glad—so -very glad that your trouble is over at last, and everything -cleared up.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I can hardly believe it yet,” said Frithiof. “I’m afraid of -waking and finding that all this is a dream. Yet it feels real -while I talk to you, for you were the only outsider who believed -in me and cheered me up last summer. I shall never forget -your trust in me.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her eyes sank beneath his frank look of gratitude. She was -horribly afraid lest she should betray herself, and to hide the -burning color which surged up into her face, she turned away -and busied herself with the teapot, which did not at all want -refilling.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_316'>316</span>“You have forgotten Signor Donati,” she said, recovering -her self-possession.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ah! I must write to him,” said Frithiof. “I more and -more wonder how he could possibly have had such insight -into the truth. Here come Mr. Boniface and Roy.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He returned to the parlor, while Cecil from the background -watched the greetings with some curiosity. In honor of Herr -Sivertsen, and to please Frithiof, both Sigrid and Swanhild -wore their Hardanger peasant dress, and Cecil thought she had -never seen Sigrid look prettier than now, as she shook hands -with Roy, welcoming him with all the charm of manner, with -all the vivacity which was characteristic of her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Tea for Mr. Boniface, and coffee for Roy,” announced -Swanhild, dancing in. “Lance, you can hand the crumpets, -and mind you don’t drop them all.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She pioneered him safely through the little crowd, and Frithiof -returned to Cecil. They had a comfortable little <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tête-à-tête</span></i> -over the tea-table.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I dare to think now,” he said, “of the actual amount of the -debts, for at last there is a certainty that in time I can pay -them.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How glad I am!” said Cecil. “It will be a great relief to -you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, it will be like getting rid of a haunting demon,” said -Frithiof. “And to see a real prospect of being free once more -is enough to make this the happiest Christmas I have ever -known—to say nothing of getting rid of the other cloud. I -sometimes wonder what would have become of me if I had -never met you and your brother.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If you had never sheltered us from the rain in your house,” -she said, smiling.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is in some ways dreadful to see how much depends on -quite a small thing,” said Frithiof thoughtfully.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And perhaps, could he have seen into Cecil’s heart, he would -have been more than ever impressed with this idea.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Before long they rejoined the rest of the party, and then, all -standing round the tree, they sang <i><span lang="no" xml:lang="no">Glädelig Jul</span></i>, and an English -carol, after which the presents were distributed, amid -much laughter and quite a babel of talk. The whole entertainment -had been given for a few shillings, but it was probably -one of the most successful parties of the season, for all -seemed full of real enjoyment, and all were ready to echo -Lance’s outspoken verdict, that Christmas trees in model lodgings -were much nicer than anywhere else.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_317'>317</span>“But it isn’t fair that the model lodgings should have both -Christmas Eve and Christmas Day,” said Mrs. Boniface, “so -you will come down to Rowan Tree House this evening, and -stay with us for a few days, will you not?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>There was no resisting the general entreaty, and indeed, now -that all was cleared up, Frithiof looked forward very much to -staying once more in the household which had grown so home-like -to him. It was arranged that they should go down to -Brixton later in the evening; and when their guests had left, -Sigrid began, a little sadly, to make the necessary preparations. -She was eager to go, and yet something told her that never -again under the same circumstances, would the little household -be under her care.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I will take in the tree to the Hallifields,” she said; “the -children will be pleased with it. And, Frithiof, don’t you -think that before we leave you had better just call and thank -Mr. Osmond for his help, and for having been so kind to -Swanhild? He will like to know that all is cleared up.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof agreed and set off for Guilford Square. The night -was frosty, and the stars shone out bright and clear. He -walked briskly through the streets, not exactly liking the prospect -of his interview with the clergyman, yet anxious to get it -over, and really grateful for what had been done by him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Charles Osmond received him so kindly that his prejudices -vanished at once, and he told him just how the five-pound -note had affected his life, and how all had been satisfactorily -explained.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Such coincidences are very strange,” said Charles Osmond, -“but it is not the first time that I have come across something -of the sort. Indeed, I know of a case very similar to yours.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If Lady Romiaux is still with you,” said Frithiof, flushing -a little, “perhaps you will tell her that all is set straight, and -thank her for having released Swanhild from her promise.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She is still here,” said Charles Osmond, “and I will certainly -tell her. I think when she gave the money to your sister -she yielded to a kind impulse, not at all realizing how foolish -and useless such a plan was. After all, though she has lived -through so much, she is still in some ways a mere child.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He looked at the Norwegian, wondering what lay beneath -that handsome face, with its Grecian outline and northern -coloring.</p> - -<p class='c000'>As if in answer to the thought, Frithiof raised his frank blue -eyes, and met the searching gaze of his companion.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Will not Lord Romiaux remember her youth?” he said. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_318'>318</span>“Do you not think there is at least a hope that he will forgive -her?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then Charles Osmond felt a strange gladness at his heart, -and over his face there came a look of indescribable content, -for the words revealed to him the noble nature of the man before -him; he knew that not one in a thousand would have so -spoken under the circumstances. The interest he had felt in -this man, whose story had accidentally become known to him, -changed to actual love.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am not without a strong hope that those two may be -atoned,” he replied. “But as yet I do not know enough of -Lord Romiaux to feel sure. It would probably involve the -sacrifice of his public life. I do not know whether his love -is equal to such a sacrifice, or whether he has strength and -courage enough to offend the world, or whether he in the least -understands the law of forgiveness.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If you could only get to know him,” said Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I quite hope to do so, and that before long,” said Charles -Osmond. “I think I can get at him through a mutual friend—the -member for Greyshot—but we must not be in too great a -hurry. Depend upon it, the right time will come if we are -only ready and waiting. Do you know the old Scotch proverb, -‘Where twa are seeking they’re sure to find?’ There is a deep -truth beneath those words, a whole parable, it seems to me.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I must not keep you,” said Frithiof, rising. “But I -couldn’t rest till I had thanked you for your help, and let you -know what had happened.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The affair has made us something more than mere acquaintances,” -said Charles Osmond. “I hope we may learn -to know each other well in the future. A happy Christmas -to you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He had opened the study door, they were in the passage -outside, and he grasped the Norwegian’s hand. At that moment -it happened that Blanche passed from the dining-room -to the staircase; she just glanced round to see who Charles -Osmond was addressing so heartily, and, perceiving Frithiof, -colored painfully and caught at the banisters for support.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Having realized what was the Norseman’s character, Charles -Osmond did not regret the meeting; he stood by in silence, -glancing first at his companion’s startled face, then at Blanche’s -attitude of downcast confusion.</p> - -<p class='c000'>As for Frithiof, in that moment he realized that his early -passion was indeed dead. Its fierce fire had utterly burned -out; the weary pain was over, the terrible battle which he had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_319'>319</span>fought so long was at an end, all that was now left was a chivalrous -regard for the woman who had made him suffer so fearfully, -a selfless desire for her future safety.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He strode toward her with outstretched hand. It was the first -time he had actually touched her since they had parted long -ago on the steamer at Balholm, but he did not think of that; -the past which had lingered with him so long and with such -cruel clearness seemed now to have withered like the raiment -of a Viking whose buried ship is suddenly exposed to the air.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I have just been telling Mr. Osmond,” he said, “that, -thanks to your note to Swanhild, a curious mystery has been -explained; he will tell you the details.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And you forgive me?” faltered Blanche.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, with all my heart,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>For a moment her sorrowful eyes looked into his; she knew -then that he had entirely freed himself from his old devotion to -her, for they met her gaze frankly, fearlessly, and in their blue -depths there was nothing but kindly forgiveness.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Thank you,” she said, once more taking his hand. “Good-by.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Good-by,” he replied.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She turned away and went upstairs without another word. -And thus, on this Christmas eve, the two whose lives had been -so strangely woven together parted, never to meet again till -the clearer light of some other world had revealed to them the -full meaning of their early love.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XXXVI' class='c005'>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>For a time Frithiof was rather silent and quiet, but Sigrid -and Swanhild were in high spirits as they went down to Rowan -Tree House, arriving just in time for supper. The atmosphere -of happiness, however, is always infectious, and he soon threw -off his taciturnity, and dragging himself away from his own engrossing -thoughts, forgot the shadows of life in the pure brightness -of this home which had been so much to him ever since he -first set foot in it.</p> - -<p class='c000'>With Swanhild for an excuse they played all sorts of games; -but when at last she had been sent off to bed, the fun and -laughter quieted down, Mr. and Mrs. Boniface played their -nightly game of backgammon; Roy and Sigrid had a long <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">tête-à-tête</span></i> -in the little inner drawing-room; Cecil sat down at the piano -and began to play Mendelssohn’s Christmas pieces; and Frithiof -<span class='pageno' id='Page_320'>320</span>threw himself back in the great arm-chair close by her, listening -half dreamily and with a restful sense of pause in his -life that he had never before known. He desired nothing, he -reveled in the sense of freedom from the love which for so long -had been a misery to him; the very calm was bliss.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That is beautiful,” he said, when the music ceased. “After -all there is no one like Mendelssohn, he is so human.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You look like one of the lotos-eaters,” said Cecil, glancing -at him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is precisely what I feel like,” he said, with a smile. -“Perhaps it is because you have been giving me</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>‘Music that gentlier on the spirit lies</div> - <div class='line'>Than tired eyelids upon tired eyes.’</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>I remember so well how you read that to me after I had -been ill.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She took a thin little red volume from the bookshelves beside -her and turned over the leaves. He bent forward to look over -her, and together they read the first part of the poem.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is Norway,” he said. “What could better describe it?”</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“A land of streams! Some like a downward smoke,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Slow dripping veils of thinnest lawn did go;</div> - <div class='line'>And some through wavering lights and shadows broke,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Rolling a slumbrous sheet of foam below.</div> - </div> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>... Far off, three mountain-tops,</div> - <div class='line in2'>Three silent pinnacles of aged snow,</div> - <div class='line'>Stood sunset-flushed; and, dewed with showery drops,</div> - <div class='line'>Up-clomb the shadowy pine above the woven copse.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“You will not be a true lotos-eater till you are there once -more,” said Cecil, glancing at him. For his dreamy content -was gone, and a wistfulness which she quite understood had -taken its place. “Don’t you think now that all is so different, -you might perhaps go there next summer?” she added.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No,” he replied, “you must not tempt me. I will not go -back till I am a free man and can look every one in the face. -The prospect of being free so much sooner than I had expected -ought to be enough to satisfy me. Suppose we build castles in -the air; that is surely the right thing to do on Christmas eve. -When at last these debts are cleared, let us all go to Norway -together. I know Mr. Boniface would be enchanted with it, -and you, you did not see nearly all that you should have seen. -You must see the Romsdal and the Geiranger, and we must -show you Oldören, where we so often spent the summer holiday.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_321'>321</span>“How delightful it would be!” said Cecil.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Don’t say ‘would,’ say ‘will,’” he replied. “I shall not -thoroughly enjoy it unless we all go together, a huge party.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I think we should be rather in the way,” she said. “You -would have so many old friends out there, and would want to -get rid of us. Don’t you remember the old lady who was so -outspoken at Balholm when we tried to be friendly and not to -let her feel lonely and out of it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof laughed at the recollection.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” he said; “she liked to be alone, and preferred to -walk on quickly and keep ‘out of the ruck,’ as she expressed -it. We were ‘the ruck,’ And how we laughed at her opinion -of us.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, of course you wouldn’t exactly put it in that way, but -all the same, I think you would want to be alone when you go -back.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He shook his head.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No; you are quite mistaken. Now, promise that if Mr. -Boniface agrees, you will all come too.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Very well,” she said, smiling, “I promise.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Where are they going to?” he exclaimed, glancing into the -inner room where Roy was wrapping a thick sofa blanket about -Sigrid’s shoulders.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Out into the garden to hear the bells, I dare say,” she -replied. “We generally go out if it is fine.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Let us come too,” he said; and they left the bright room -and went out into the dusky veranda, pacing silently to and -fro, absorbed in their own thoughts while the Christmas bells -rang</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Peace and goodwill, goodwill and peace,</div> - <div class='line'>Peace and goodwill to all mankind.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>But the other two, down in a sheltered path at the end of the -garden, were not silent, nor did they listen very much to the -bells.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sigrid,” said Roy, “have you forgotten that you made me -a promise last June?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No,” she said, her voice trembling a little, “I have not forgotten.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You promised that when Frithiof was cleared I might ask -you for your answer.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She raised her face to his in the dim starlight.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, I did promise.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And the answer is—?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I love you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_322'>322</span>The soft Norse words were spoken hardly above her breath, -yet Roy knew that they would ring in his heart all his life -long.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My darling!” he said, taking her in his arms. “Oh, if -you knew what the waiting has been to me! But it was my -own fault—all my own fault. I ought to have trusted your -instinct before my own reason.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, no,” she said, clinging to him; “I think I was hard -and bitter that day; you must forgive me, for I was so very -unhappy. Don’t let us speak of it any more. I hate to think -of it even.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And nothing can ever come between us again,” he said, still -keeping his arm round her as they walked on.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No; never again,” she repeated; “never again. I know -I am too proud and independent, and I suppose it is to crush -down my pride that I have to come to you like this, robbed of -position and money, and—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How can you speak of such things,” he said reproachfully. -“You know they are nothing to me—you know that I can never -feel worthy of you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Such things do seem very little when one really loves,” she -said gently. “I have thought it over, and it seems to me like -this—the proof of your love to me is that you take me poor, an -exile more or less burdened with the past; the proof of my -love to you is that I kill my pride—and yield. It would have -seemed impossible to me once; but now—Oh, Roy! how I -love you—how I love you!”</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c000'>“And about Frithiof?” said Roy presently. “You will -explain all to him, and make him understand that I would not -for the world break up his home.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” she replied, “I will tell him; but I think not to-night. -Just till to-morrow let it be only for ourselves. Hark! the -clocks are striking twelve! Let us go in and wish the others -a happy Christmas.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But Roy kept the first of the good wishes for himself; then, -at length releasing her, walked beside her toward the house, -happy beyond all power of expression.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And now once more outer things began to appeal to him -he became conscious of the Christmas bells ringing gayly in -the stillness of the night, of the stars shining down gloriously -through the clear, frosty air, of the cheerful glimpse of home -to be seen through the uncurtained window of the drawing-room.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_323'>323</span>Cecil and Frithiof had left the veranda and returned to the -piano; they were singing a carol, the German air of which was -well known in Norway. Sigrid did not know the English -words; but she listened to them now intently, and they helped -to reconcile her to the one thorn in her perfect happiness—the -thought that these other two were shut out from the bliss which -she enjoyed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Quietly she stole into the room and stood watching them as -they sang the quaint old hymn:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Good Christian men rejoice,</div> - <div class='line'>In heart and soul and voice;</div> - <div class='line'>Now ye hear of endless bliss;</div> - <div class='line in8'>Joy! joy!</div> - <div class='line'>Jesus Christ was born for this!</div> - <div class='line'>He hath oped the heavenly door.</div> - <div class='line'>And man is blessed evermore.</div> - <div class='line'>Christ was born for this.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil, glancing up at her when the carol was ended, read her -secret in her happy, glowing face. She rose from the piano.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“A happy Christmas to you,” she said, kissing her on both -cheeks.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We have been out in the garden, right down in the lower -path, and you can’t think how lovely the bells sound,” said -Sigrid.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then, with a fresh stab of pain at her heart, she thought of -Frithiof’s spoiled life; she looked wistfully across at him, conscious -that her love for Roy had only deepened her love for -those belonging to her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Was he never to know anything more satisfying than the -peace of being freed from the heavy load of suspicion? Was -he only to know the pain of love? All her first desire to keep -her secret to herself died away as she looked at him, and in -another minute her hand was on his arm.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Dear old boy,” she said to him in Norse, “wont you come -out into the garden with me for a few minutes?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>So they went out together into the starlight, and wandered -down to the sheltered path where she and Roy had paced to -and fro so long.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What a happy Christmas it has been for us all!” she said -thoughtfully.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Very; and how little we expected it,” said Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you think,” she began falteringly, “do you think, -Frithiof, it would make you less happy if I told you of a new -happiness that has come to me?”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_324'>324</span>Her tone as much as the actual words suddenly enlightened -him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Whatever makes for your happiness makes for mine,” he -said, trying to read her face.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Are you sure of that?” she said, the tears rushing to her -eyes. “Oh, if I could quite believe you, Frithiof, how happy -I should be!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why should you doubt me?” he asked. “Come, I have -guessed your secret, you are going to tell me that—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That Roy will some day be your brother as well as your -friend,” she said, finishing his sentence for him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He caught her hand in his and held it fast.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I wish you joy, Sigrid, with all my heart. This puts the -finishing touch to our Christmas happiness.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And Roy has been making such plans,” said Sigrid, brushing -away her tears; “he says that just over the wall there is a -charming little house back to back, you know, with this one, -and it will just hold us all, for of course he will never allow us -to be separated. He told me that long ago, when he first -asked me.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Long ago?” said Frithiof; “why, what do you mean, Sigrid? -I thought it was only to-night.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It was only to-night that gave him his answer,” said Sigrid. -“It was when we were at the sea last June that he first spoke to -me, and then—afterward—perhaps I was wrong, but I would -not hear anything more about it till your cloud had passed -away. I knew some day that your name must be cleared, and -I was angry with Roy for not believing in you. I dare say I -was wrong to expect it, but somehow I did expect it, and it -disappointed me so dreadfully. He says himself now that he -ought to have trusted—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It was a wonder that you didn’t make him hate me forever,” -said Frithiof. “Why did you not tell me about it before?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How could I?” she said. “It would only have made you -more unhappy. It was far better to wait.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But what a terrible autumn for you!” exclaimed Frithiof. -“And to think that all this should have sprung from that -wretched five-pound note! Our stories have been curiously -woven together, Sigrid.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>As she thought of the contrast between the two stories her -tears broke forth afresh; she walked on silently hoping that he -would not notice them, but a drop fell right on to his wrist; he -stopped suddenly, took her face between his hands and looked -full into her eyes.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_325'>325</span>“You dear little goose,” he said, “what makes you cry! -Was it because I said our stories had been woven together?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It’s because I wish they could have been alike,” she sobbed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But it wasn’t to be,” he said quietly. “It is an odd thing -to say to you to-night, when your new life is beginning, but to-night -I also am happy, because now at last my struggle is over—now -at last the fire is burned out. I don’t want anything but -just the peace of being free to the end of my life. Believe me, -I am content.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her throat seemed to have closed up, she could not say a -word just because she felt for him so intensely. She gave him -a little mute caress, and once more they paced along the garden -path. But her whole soul revolted against this notion of content. -She understood it as little as the soldier marching to his -first battle understands the calm indifference of the comrade -who lies in hospital. Surely Frithiof was to have something -better in his life than this miserable parody of love? This passion, -which had been almost all pain, could surely not be the -only glimpse vouchsafed him of the bliss which had transfigured -the whole world for her? There came back to her the thought -of the old study at Bergen, and she seemed to hear her father’s -voice saying—</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I should like an early marriage for Frithiof, but I will not -say too much about you, Sigrid, for I don’t know how I should -ever spare you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And she sighed as she remembered how his plans had been -crossed and his business ruined, and his heart broken—how -both for him and for Frithiof failure had been decreed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Yet the Christmas bells rang on in this world of strangely mingled -joy and sorrow, and they brought her much the same message -that had been brought to her by the silence on Hjerkinshö—</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There is a better plan which can’t go wrong,” she said, to -herself.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XXXVII' class='c005'>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>“I have some news for you,” said Mr. Horner to his wife a -few days after this, as one evening he entered the drawing-room. -The huge gold clock with the little white face pointed to the -hour of eight, the golden pigs still climbed the golden hill, the -golden swineherd still leaned meditatively on his golden staff. -Mrs. Horner, arrayed in peacock-blue satin, glanced from her -husband to the clock and back again to her husband.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“News?” she said in a distinctly discouraging tone “Is it -<span class='pageno' id='Page_326'>326</span>that which makes you so late? However, it’s of no consequence -to me if the dinner is spoiled, quite the contrary, I am not particular. -But I beg you wont grumble if the meat is done to -a cinder.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Never mind the dinner,” replied Mr. Horner captiously. -“I have other things to think of than overdone joints. That -fool Boniface has taken me at my word, and actually doesn’t -intend to renew the partnership.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What!” cried his wife, “not now that all this affair is -cleared up, and you have apologized so handsomely to young -Falck?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No; it’s perfectly disgraceful,” said James Horner, looking -like an angry turkey-cock as he paced to and fro. “I shook -hands with Falck and told him I was sorry to have misjudged -him, and even owned to Boniface that I had spoken hastily, but -would you believe it, he wont reconsider the matter. He not -only gives me the sack but he takes in my place that scheming -Norwegian.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But the fellow has no capital,” cried Mrs. Horner, in great -agitation. “He is as poor as a rook! He hasn’t a single -penny to put into the concern.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Precisely. But Boniface is such a fool that he overlooks -that and does nothing but talk of his great business capacities, -his industry, his good address, and a lot of other rubbish of -that sort. Why without money a fellow is worth nothing—absolutely -nothing.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“From the first I detested him,” said Mrs. Horner. “I -knew that the Bonifaces were deceived in him. It’s my belief -that although his character is cleared as to this five-pound note -business, yet he is really a mere adventurer. Depend upon it -he’ll manage to get everything into his own hands, and will be -ousting Roy one of these days.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, he’s hardly likely to do that, for it seems the sister -has been keeping her eyes open, and that idiot of a Roy is -going to marry her.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“To marry Sigrid Falck?” exclaimed Mrs. Horner, starting -to her feet. “Actually to bring into the family a girl who plays -at dancing-classes and parties—a girl who sweeps her own -house and cooks her own dinner!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t know that she is any the worse for doing that,” -said James Horner. “It’s not the girl herself that I object to, -for she’s pretty and pleasant enough, but the connection, the -being related by marriage to that odious Falck, who has treated -<span class='pageno' id='Page_327'>327</span>me so insufferably, who looks down on me and is as stand-offish -as if he were an emperor.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If there is one thing I do detest,” said Mrs. Horner, “it is -pushing people—a sure sign of vulgarity. But it’s partly Loveday’s -fault. If I had had to deal with the Falcks they would -have been taught their proper place, and all this would not -have happened.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>At this moment dinner was announced. The overdone -meat did not improve Mr. Horner’s temper, and when the -servants had left the room he broke out into fresh invectives -against the Bonifaces.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“When is the wedding to be?” asked his wife.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Some time in February, I believe. They are house-furnishing -already.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mrs. Horner gave an ejaculation of annoyance.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, the sooner we leave London the better,” she said. -“I’m not going to be mixed up with all this; we’ll avoid any -open breach with the family of course, but for goodness’ sake -do let the house and let us settle down elsewhere. There’s -that house at Croydon I was very partial to, and you could go -up and down easy enough from there.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We’ll think of it,” said Mr. Horner reflectively. “And, -by the by, must, I suppose, get them some sort of wedding -present.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“By good luck,” said Mrs. Horner, “I won a sofa-cushion -last week in a raffle at the bazaar for the chapel organ fund. -It’s quite good enough for them, I’m sure. I did half think of -sending it to the youngest Miss Smith, who is to be married on -New Year’s Day, but they’re such rich people that I suppose I -must send them something a little more showy and expensive. -This will do very well for Sigrid Falck.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Luckily the opinion of outsiders did not at all mar the happiness -of the two lovers. They were charmed to hear that the -Horners were leaving London, and when in due time the sofa-cushion -arrived, surmounted by Mrs. Horner’s card, Sigrid, -who had been in the blessed condition of expecting nothing, -was able to write a charming little note of thanks, which by -its straightforward simplicity, made the donor blush with an -uncomfortable sense of guilt.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And after all,” remarked Sigrid to Cecil, “we really owe a -great deal to Mrs. Horner, for if she had not asked me to that -children’s fancy ball I should never have met Madame Lechertier, -and how could we ever have lived all together if it had not -been for that?”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_328'>328</span>“In those days I think Mrs. Horner rather liked you, but -somehow you have offended her.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why of course it was by earning my living and setting up -in model lodgings; I utterly shocked all her ideas of propriety, -and, when once you do that, good-by to all hopes of remaining -in Mrs. Horner’s good books. It would have grieved me to -displease any of your relations if you yourselves cared for -them, but the Horners—well, I can not pretend to care the -least about them.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The two girls were in the little sitting-room of the model -lodgings, putting the finishing touches to the white cashmere -wedding-dress which Sigrid had cut out and made for herself -during the quiet days they had spent at Rowan Tree House. -Every one entered most heartily into all the busy preparations, -and Sigrid could not help thinking to herself that the best -proof that trouble had not spoiled or soured the lives either of -Cecil or Frithiof lay in their keen enjoyment of other people’s -happiness.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The wedding was to be extremely quiet. Early in the -morning, when Cecil went to see if she could be of any use, -she found the bride-elect in her usual black dress and her -housekeeping apron of brown holland, busily packing Frithiof’s -portmanteau.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, let me do it for you,” she said. “The idea of your -toiling away to-day just as if you were not going to be married!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid laughed merrily.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Must brides sit and do nothing until the ceremony?” she -asked. “If so, I am sorry for them; I couldn’t sit still if I -were to try. How glad I am to think Frithiof and Swanhild -will be at Rowan Tree House while we are away! I should -never have had a moment’s peace if I had left them here, -for Swanhild is, after all, only a child. It is so good of Mrs. -Boniface to have asked them.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Since you are taking Roy away from us, I think it is the -least you could do,” said Cecil, laughing. “It will be such a -help to have them this evening, for otherwise we should all be -feeling very flat, I know.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And we shall be on our way to the Riviera,” said Sigrid, -pausing for a few minutes in her busy preparations; a dreamy -look came into her clear, practical eyes, and she let her head -rest against the side of the bed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Sometimes, do you know,” she exclaimed, “I can’t believe -this is all real, I think I am just imagining it all, and that I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_329'>329</span>shall wake up presently and find myself playing the Myosotis -waltz at the academy—it was always such a good tune to -dream to.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Wait,” said Cecil; “does this make it feel more real,” and -hastily going into the outer room she returned bearing the -lovely wedding bouquet which Roy had sent.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Lilies of the valley!” exclaimed Sigrid. “Oh, how exquisite! -And myrtle and eucharist lilies—it is the most beautiful -bouquet I ever saw.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Don’t you think it is time you were dressing,” said Cecil. -“Come, sit down and let me do your hair for you while you enjoy -your flowers.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But Swanhild’s packing—I don’t think it is quite finished.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Never mind, I will come back this afternoon with her and -finish everything; you must let us help you a little just for -once.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And then, as she brushed out the long, golden hair, she -thought how few brides showed Sigrid’s wonderful unselfishness -and care for others, and somehow wished that Roy could -have seen her just as she was, in her working-day apron, too -full of household arrangements to spend much time over her -own toilet.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Swanhild, already dressed in her white cashmere and pretty -white beaver hat, danced in and out of the room fetching and -carrying, and before long the bride, too, was dressed, and with -her long tulle veil over the dainty little wreath of real orange -blossom from Madame Lechertier’s greenhouse, and the homemade -dress which fitted admirably, she walked into the little -sitting-room to show herself to Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I shall hold up your train, Sigrid, in case the floor is at all -dusty,” said Swanhild, much enjoying the excitement of the -first wedding in the family, and determined not to think of the -parting till it actually came.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof made an involuntary exclamation as she entered the -room.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You look like Ingeborg,” he said, “when she came into the -new temple of Balder.”</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“Followed by many a fair attendant maiden,</div> - <div class='line'>As shines the moon amid surrounding stars,”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>quoted Swanhild in Norse from the old saga, looking roguishly -up at her tall brother.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Sigrid laughed and turned to Cecil.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She says that I am the moon and shine with a borrowed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_330'>330</span>light, and that you are the stars with light of your own. By-the-by, -where is my other little bridesmaid?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Gwen is to meet us at the church,” explained Cecil. “Do -you know I think the carriage must be waiting, for I see the -eldest little Hallifield tearing across the court-yard.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then I must say good-by to every one,” said Sigrid; and -with one last look round the little home which had grown so -dear to them, she took Frithiof’s arm and went out into the -long stone passage, where a group of the neighbors stood -waiting to see the last of her, and to give her their hearty good -wishes. She had a word and a smile for every one, and they -all followed her down the stairs and across the court-yard and -stood waving their hands as the carriage drove off.</p> - -<p class='c000'>That chapter of her life was ended, and the busy hive of -workers would no longer count her as queen-bee of the establishment. -The cares and troubles and wearing economies were -things of the past, but she would take with her and keep forever -many happy memories; and many friendships would still -last and give her an excuse for visiting afterward the scene of -her first home in London.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She was quite silent as they drove through the busy streets, -her eyes had again that sweet, dreamy look in them that -Cecil had noticed earlier in the morning; she did not seem -to see outward things, until after a while her eyes met Frithiof’s, -and then her face, which had been rather grave, broke into -sudden brightness, and she said a few words to him in Norse, -which he replied to with a look so full of loving pride and -contentment that it carried the sunshine straight into Cecil’s -heart.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“This marriage is a capital thing for him,” she thought to -herself. “He will be happy in her happiness.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>By this time they had reached the church; Lance, in the -dress he had worn at Mrs. Horner’s fancy ball, stood ready to -hold the bride’s train, and Gwen came running up to take her -place in the little procession.</p> - -<p class='c000'>A few spectators had dropped in, but the church was very -quiet, and up in the chancel there were only Roy and his best -man, Madame Lechertier, old Herr Sivertsen, and the father -and mother of the bridegroom. Charles Osmond read the -service, and his pretty daughter-in-law had begged leave to -play the organ, for she had taken a fancy not only to little -Swanhild, but to the whole family, when at her father-in-law’s -request she had called upon them. After the wedding was -over and the procession had once more passed down the aisle, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_331'>331</span>she still went on playing, having a love of finishing in her -nature. Charles Osmond came out of the vestry and stood -beside her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am glad you played for them,” he said when the last -chord had been struck. “It was not at all the sort of wedding -to be without music.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It was one of the nicest weddings I was ever at,” she said: -“and as to your Norseman—he is all you said, and more. Do -you know, there is a strong look about him which somehow -made me think of my father. Oh! I do hope he will be able -to pay off the debts.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There is only one thing which could hinder him,” said -Charles Osmond.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What is that?” asked Erica, looking up quickly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Death,” he replied quietly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She made no answer, but the word did not jar upon her, for -she was one of those who have learned that death is indeed the -Gate of Life.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Silently she pushed in the stops and locked the organ.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XXXVIII' class='c005'>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>One spring evening, rather more than two years after the -wedding, Sigrid was working away in the little back garden, to -which, now that her household duties were light, she devoted -a good deal of her time. It joined the garden of Rowan Tree -House, and, for greater convenience, an opening had been -made in the hedge, and a little green gate put up. Upon this -gate leaned Cecil chatting comfortably, her tennis racquet -under her arm, and with a pleasant consciousness that the -work of the day was over, and that Roy and Frithiof might -soon be expected for the nightly game which, during the season, -they seldom cared to miss.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“They are late this evening,” said Sigrid. “I wonder -whether Herr Sivertsen has caught Frithiof. I hope not, for -the tennis does him so much good.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Is he working very hard?” asked Cecil.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He always works furiously; and just now I think he has -got what some one called ‘the lust of finishing’ upon him; -we see very little of him, for when he is not at business he is -hard at work over Herr Sivertsen’s manuscript. But it really -seems to agree with him; they say, you know, that work without -worry harms no one.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_332'>332</span>“A very moral precept,” said a voice behind her, and glancing -up she saw Frithiof himself crossing the little lawn.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The two years had not greatly altered him, but he seemed -more full of life and vigor than before, and success and hope -had entirely banished the look of conflict which for so long -had been plainly visible in his face. Sigrid felt proud of him -as she glanced round; there was something in his mere physical -strength which always appealed to her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We were just talking about you,” she said, “and wondering -when you would be ready to play.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“After that remark of yours which I overheard I almost think -I shall have to eschew tennis,” he said, laughing. “Why should -I give a whole hour to it when Herr Sivertsen is impatiently -waiting for the next installment?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Herr Sivertsen is insatiable,” said Sigrid, taking off her -gardening-gloves. “And I’m not going to allow you to return -to your old bad ways; as long as you live with me you will -have to be something more than a working drudge.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Since Sigrid has begun baby’s education,” said Frithiof, -turning laughingly to Cecil, “we notice that she has become -very dictatorial to the rest of us.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You shouldn’t make stage asides in such a loud voice,” -said Sigrid, pretending to box his ears. “I am going to meet -Roy and to fetch the racquets, and you take him into the garden, -Cecil, and make him behave properly.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Are you really so specially busy just now?” asked Cecil, -as he opened the little gate and joined her; “or was it only -your fun?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, it was grim earnest,” he replied. “For since Herr -Sivertsen has been so infirm I have had most of his work to do. -But it is well-paid work, and a very great help toward the debt -fund. In ten years’ time I may be free.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You will really have paid off everything?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I quite hope to be able to do so.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It will be a great work done,” she said thoughtfully. -“But when it is all finished, I wonder whether you will not feel -a little like the men who work all their lives to make a certain -amount and then retire, and can’t think what to do with themselves?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I hope not,” said Frithiof; “but I own that there is a -chance of it. You see, the actual work in itself is hateful to -me. Never, I should think, was there any one who so loathed -indoor work of all kinds, specially desk work. Yet I have -learned to take real interest in the business, and that will -<span class='pageno' id='Page_333'>333</span>remain and still be my duty when the debts are cleared off. It -is a shocking confession, but I own that when Herr Sivertsen’s -work is no longer a necessity it will be an immense relief to me, -and I doubt if I shall ever open that sort of book again.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It must be terrible drudgery,” said Cecil, “since you can’t -really like it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Herr Sivertsen has given me up as a hopeless case; he has -long ago ceased to talk about Culture with a capital C to it; -he no longer expects me to take any interest in the question -whether earth-worms do or do not show any sensitiveness to -sound when placed on a grand piano. I told him that the bare -idea is enough to make any one in the trade shudder.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil laughed merrily. It was by no means the first time -that he had told her of his hopeless lack of all literary and -scientific tastes, and she admired him all the more for it, because -he kept so perseveringly to the work, and disregarded his personal -tastes so manfully. They had, moreover, many points in -common, for there was a vein of poetry in his nature as well as -in hers; like most Norwegians, he was musical, and his love of -sport and of outdoor life had not robbed him of the gentler -tastes—love of scenery and love of home.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“See!” she exclaimed, “there is the first narcissus. How -early it is! I must take it to mother, for she is so fond of -them.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He stooped to gather the flower for her, and as she took it -from him, he just glanced at her for a moment; she was looking -very pretty that evening, her gray eyes were unusually -bright, there was a soft glow of color in her fair face, an air of -glad contentment seemed to hover about her. He little guessed -that it was happiness in his success which was the cause of all -this.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Even as he watched her, however, her color faded, her lips -began to quiver, she seemed to be on the point of fainting.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Is anything the matter?” he asked, alarmed by the sudden -change in her face. “Are you ill, Cecil?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She did not reply, but let him help her to the nearest garden -seat.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is the scent of the narcissus; it is too strong for you,” -he suggested.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No,” she gasped. “But a most awful feeling came over -me. Something is going to happen, I am sure of it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He looked perplexed. She dropped the narcissus from her -hand, and he picked it up and put it on the farther side of the -bench, still clinging to his own theory that it was the cause of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_334'>334</span>her faintness. Her face, which a moment before had been so -bright, was now white as the flower itself, and the look of suffering -in it touched him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>His heart began to beat a little uneasily when he saw a servant -approaching them from the house.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She is right,” he thought to himself. “What on earth can -it be?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Master asked me to give you this, Miss Cecil,” said the -maid, handing her a little penciled note.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She sat up hastily, making a desperate effort to look as if -nothing were wrong with her. The servant went back to the -house, and Frithiof waited anxiously to hear what the note was -about. She read it through and then handed it to him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It ran as follows:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Mr. Grantley has come, and wishes to see the children. -He will not take them away for a few days, but you had better -bring them down to see him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He is out of prison!” exclaimed Frithiof. “But surely -his time is not up yet. I thought he had five years?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The five years would be over next October. I knew it -would come some day, but I never thought of it so soon, and to -take them away in a few days!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I remember now,” said Frithiof; “there is a rule that by -good behavior in prison they can slightly shorten their time. -I am so sorry for you; it will be a fearful wrench to you to -part with Lance and Gwen.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She locked her hands together, making no attempt at an -answer.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How exactly like the world,” thought Frithiof to himself. -“Here is a girl passionately devoted to these children, while -the mother, who never deserved them at all, has utterly deserted -them. To have had them for five years and then suddenly -to lose them altogether, that is a fearful blow for her; -they ought to have thought of it before adopting the children.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Is there nothing I can do to help you?” he said, turning -toward her. “Shall I go and fetch Lance and Gwen?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>With an effort she stood up.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, no,” she said, trying hard to speak cheerfully. “Don’t -let this spoil your game. I am better, I will go and find them.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But by a sudden impulse he sprang up, made her take his -arm and walked to the house with her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are still rather shaky, I think,” he said. “Let me -come with you, I can at any rate save you the stairs. How -strange it was that you should have known beforehand that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_335'>335</span>this was coming! Did you ever have a presentiment of that -kind over anything else?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Never,” she said. “It was such an awful feeling. I wonder -what it is that brings it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He left her in the hall and ran upstairs to the nursery, where -he was always a welcome visitor. Both children rushed to meet -him with cries of delight.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Cecil has sent me up with a message to you,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“To say we may come down,” shouted Lance. “Is it that, -Herr Frithiof?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No,” cried Gwen, dancing round him, “it’s to say a holiday -for to-morrow, I guess.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, not that exactly,” he said; “but your father has come, -and Cecil wants you to come down and see him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The children’s faces fell. It seemed almost as if they instinctively -knew of the cloud that hung over their father. They -had always known that he would some day come to them; but -his name had been little mentioned. It was difficult to mention -it without running the risk of the terrible questions which -as children they were so likely to ask. All the gladness and -spirit seemed to have left them. They were both shy, and the -meeting with this unknown parent was a terror to them. They -clung to Frithiof as he took them downstairs, and, catching -sight of Cecil leaning back in one of the hall chairs, they made -a rush for her, and poured out all their childish fears as she -clung to them and kissed them with all the tenderness of a real -mother.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We don’t want to go and see father,” said Lance stoutly. -“We had much rather not.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But you must think that he wants to see you very much,” -said Cecil. “He remembers you quite well, though you have -forgotten him; and now that he has come back to you, you -must both make him very happy, and love him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t like him at all,” said Gwen perversely.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is silly and wrong to say that,” said Cecil. “You will -love him when you see him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I love you,” said Gwen, with a vehement hug.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Have you only room for one person in your heart?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I rather love Herr Frithiof,” said Gwen, glancing up at him -through her eyelashes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>They both smiled, and Cecil, seeing that little would be -gained by discussing the matter, got up and led them toward -the drawing-room, her pale, brave face contrasting curiously -with Gwen’s rosy cheeks and rebellious little air.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_336'>336</span>Mr. Boniface sat talking to the new-comer kindly enough. -They both rose as Cecil and the children entered.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“This is my daughter,” said Mr. Boniface.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And Cecil shook hands with the ex-prisoner, and looked a -little anxiously into his face.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He was rather a pleasant-looking man of five-and-thirty, and -so much like Lance that she could not help feeling kindly -toward him. She hoped that the children would behave well, -and glanced at Gwen nervously.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But Gwen, who was a born flirt, speedily forgot her dislike, -and was quite willing to meet the stranger’s advances half-way. -In two minutes’ time she was contentedly sitting on his -knee, while Lance stood shyly by, studying his father with a -gravity which was, however, inclined to be friendly and not -critical. When he had quite satisfied himself he went softly -away, returning before long with a toy pistol and a boat, which -he put into his father’s hands.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What is this?” said Mr. Grantley.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It’s my favorite toys,” said Lance. “I wanted to -show them you. Quick, Gwen, run and find your doll for -father.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He seemed touched and pleased; and indeed they were -such well-trained children that any parent must have been -proud of them. To this ex-convict, who for years had been -cut off from all child-life, the mere sight of them was refreshing. -He seemed quite inclined to sit there and play with them -for the rest of the evening. And Cecil sat by in a sort of -dream, hearing of the new home that was to be made for the -children in British Columbia—where land was to be had for -a penny an acre, and where one could live on grapes and -peaches, and all the most delicious fruits. Then, presently, -with many expressions of gratitude for all that had been done -for the children, Mr. Grantley took leave, and she led the little -ones up to bed, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Boniface to go out into -the garden and tell Roy and Sigrid what had passed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How does Cecil take it?” asked Sigrid anxiously.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Very quietly,” was the reply; “but I am afraid she feels -losing them so soon.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof, with an uncomfortable recollection of what had -passed in the garden, doubted if Mrs. Boniface fully understood -the depth of Cecil’s feelings. He left them talking over -the drawbacks and advantages of colonial life, and went in to -his translating; but though he forgot the actual cause, he was -conscious all the time of a disturbing influence, and even while -<span class='pageno' id='Page_337'>337</span>absorbed in his work, had an irritating sense that something -had gone wrong, and that trouble was in the air.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He went to bed and dreamed all night of Cecil. She -haunted him persistently; sometimes he saw her leaning back -on the garden seat, with the narcissus just falling from her hand, -sometimes he saw her with the children clinging to her as they -had done in the hall.</p> - -<p class='c000'>From that time forward a great change came over his attitude -toward her. Hitherto his friendship with her had, it must -be owned, been chiefly selfish. He had always heartily liked -her, had enjoyed being at Rowan Tree House, had fallen into -the habit of discussing many things with her and valuing her -opinion, but it was always of himself he had thought—of what -she could do for him, of what he could learn from her, of how -much enjoyment he could get from her music and her frank -friendliness, and her easy way of talking. It was not that he -was more selfish than most men, but that they had learned -really to know each other at a time when his heart was so paralyzed -by Blanche’s faithlessness, so crushed by the long series -of misfortunes, that giving had been out of the question for him; -he could merely take and make the most of whatever she could -give him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But now all this was altered. The old wounds, though to -the end of his life they must leave a scar, were really healed. -He had lived through a great deal, and had lived in a way that -had developed the best points in his character. He had now a -growingly keen appreciation for all that was really beautiful—for -purity, and strength, and tenderness, and for that quality -which it is the fashion to call Altruism, but which he, with his -hatred of affectation in words, called goodness.</p> - -<p class='c000'>As he thought of Cecil during those days he began to see -more and more clearly the full force of her character. Hitherto -he had quietly taken her for granted; there was nothing very -striking about her, nothing in the least obtrusive. Perhaps -if it had not been for that strange little scene in the garden he -would never have taken the trouble to think of her actual -character.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Through the week that followed he watched her with keen -interest and sympathy. That she should be in trouble—at any -rate, in trouble that was patent to all the world—was something -entirely new. Their positions seemed to be reversed; and he -found himself spontaneously doing everything he could think -of to please and help her. Her trouble seemed to draw them -together; and to his mind there was something very beautiful -<span class='pageno' id='Page_338'>338</span>in her passionate devotion to the children—for it was a devotion -that never in the least bordered on sentimentality. She -went through everything very naturally, having a good cry -now and then, but taking care not to make the children unhappy -at the prospect of the parting, and arranging everything -that they could possibly want, not only on the voyage, but for -some time to come in their new home.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She is so plucky!” thought Frithiof to himself, with a -thrill of admiration. For he was not at all the sort of man to -admire helplessness, or languor, or cowardice; they seemed to -him as unlovely in a woman as in a man.</p> - -<p class='c000'>At last the actual parting came. Cecil would have liked to -go down to the steamer and see the children start, but on -thinking it over she decided that it would be better not.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“They will feel saying good-by,” she said, “and it had better -be here. Then they will have the long drive with you to -the docks, and by that time they will be all right again, and -will be able to enjoy the steamer and all the novelty.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mr. Boniface was obliged to own that there was sound common-sense -in this plan; so in their own nursery, where for -nearly five years she had taken such care of them, Cecil -dressed the two little ones for the last time, brushed out Gwen’s -bright curls, coaxed Lance into his reefer, and then, no longer -able to keep back her tears, clung to them in the last terrible -parting.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, Cecil, dear, darling Cecil,” sobbed Lance, “I don’t -want to go away; I don’t care for the steamer one bit.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She was on the hearthrug, with both children nestled close -to her, the thought of the unknown world that they were going -out into, and the difficult future awaiting them, came sweeping -over her; just as they were then, innocent, and unconscious, -and happy, she could never see them again.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Be good, Lance,” she said, through her tears. “Promise -me always to try to be good.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I promise,” said the little fellow, hugging her with all his -might. “And we shall come back as soon as ever we’re grown -up—we shall both come back.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, yes,” said Cecil, “you must come back.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But in her heart she knew that however pleasant the meeting -in future years might be, it could not be like the present; as -children, and as her own special charge, she was parting with -them forever.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The carriage drove up to the door; there came sounds of -hurrying feet and fetching and carrying of luggage; Cecil took -<span class='pageno' id='Page_339'>339</span>them downstairs, and then, with a last long embrace from -Lance, and kisses interspersed with sobs from Gwen, she gave -them up to her father, and turned to take leave of their nurse.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I will take great care of them, miss,” said the maid, herself -crying, “and you shall hear from me regularly.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>In another minute the carriage had driven away, and Cecil -was left to make the best she might of what she could not but -feel, at first, a desolate life.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 id='XXXIX' class='c005'>CHAPTER XXXIX.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>Hardly had the bustle of departure quieted down at Rowan -Tree House when a fresh anxiety arose. Herr Sivertsen, who -had for some time been out of health, was seized with a fatal -illness, and for three days and nights Frithiof was unable to -leave him; on the third night the old Norseman passed quietly -away, conscious to the last minute, and with his latest breath -inveighing against the degeneracy of the age.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Frithiof is a rare exception,” he said, turning his dim eyes -toward Sigrid, who stood by the bedside. “And to him I -leave all that I have. As for the general run of young men -nowadays—I wash my hands of them—a worthless set—a degenerate—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>His voice died away, he sighed deeply, caught Frithiof’s -hand in his, and fell back on the pillow lifeless.</p> - -<p class='c000'>When the will was read it affirmed that Herr Sivertsen, who -had no relations living, had indeed left his property to Frithiof. -The will was terse and eccentric in the extreme, and seemed -like one of the old man’s own speeches, ending with the -familiar words, “for he is one of the few honest and hard-working -men in a despicable generation.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Naturally there was only one way to which Frithiof could -think of putting his legacy. Every penny of it went straight -to his debt-fund. Mr. Horner heard of it and groaned. -“What!” he exclaimed, “pay away the principal; hand over -thousands of pounds in payment of debts that are not even his -own—debts that don’t affect his name! He ought to put the -money into this business, Boniface; it would only be a fitting -way of showing you his gratitude.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He put into the business what I value far more,” said Mr. -Boniface. “He put into it his honest Norwegian heart, and -this legacy will save him many years of hard, weary work and -anxiety.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_340'>340</span>When summer came it was arranged that they should go to -Norway, and Frithiof went about his work with such an air of -relief and contentment, that had it not been for one hidden -anxiety Sigrid’s happiness would have been complete.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her marriage had been so extremely happy that she was less -than ever satisfied with the prospect that seemed to lie before -Cecil. The secret which she had found out at the time of -Frithiof’s disgrace weighed upon her now a good deal; she -almost wished that Roy would guess it; but no one else seemed -to have any suspicion of it at all, and Sigrid of course could -not speak, partly because she was Frithiof’s sister, partly because -she had a strong feeling that to allude to that matter -would be to betray Cecil unfairly. Had she been a matchmaker -she might have done endless harm; had she been a -reckless talker she would probably have defeated her own -ends; but happily she was neither, and though at times she -longed to give Frithiof a good shaking, when she saw him entirely -absorbed in his work and blind to all else, she managed -to keep her own counsel, and to await, though somewhat impatiently, -whatever time should bring. One evening it chanced -that the brother and sister were alone for a few minutes during -the intervals of an amateur concert, which Cecil had been -asked to get up at Whitechapel.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How do you think it has gone off?” said Sigrid, as he sat -down beside her in the little inner room.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Capitally; Cecil ought to be congratulated,” he replied. -“I am glad she has had it on hand, for it must have taken her -thoughts off the children.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” said Sigrid; “anything that does that is worth something.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yet she seems to me to have plenty of interests,” said -Frithiof. “She is never idle; she is a great reader.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you think books would ever satisfy a woman like -Cecil?” exclaimed Sigrid, with a touch of scorn in her voice.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He looked at her quickly, struck by something unusual in -her tone, and not at all understanding the little flush of hot -color that had risen in her face.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh,” he said teasingly, “you think that every one has your -ideal of happiness, and cannot manage to exist without the -equivalent of Roy and baby, to say nothing of the house and -garden.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t think anything of the sort,” she protested, relieved -by his failure to appropriate to himself her rather unguarded -speech.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_341'>341</span>“Norway will be the best thing in the world for her,” he -said. “It is the true panacea for all evils. Can you believe -that in less than a week we shall actually be at Bergen once -more!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And Sigrid, looking at his eager, blue eyes, and remembering -his brave struggles and long exile, could not find it in her -heart to be angry with him any more. Besides, he had been -very thoughtful for Cecil just lately, and seemed to have set -his heart on making the projected tour in Norway as nearly -perfect as might be. To Sigrid there was a serious drawback—she -was obliged to leave her baby behind in England; -however, after the first wrench of parting, she managed to -enjoy herself very well, and Mrs. Boniface, who was to spend -the six weeks of their absence in Devonshire with some of her -cousins, promised to take every possible care of her little -grandson, to telegraph now and then, and to write at every opportunity. -It had been impossible for Mr. Boniface to leave -London, but the two younger members of the firm, with Sigrid, -Cecil, and little Swanhild, made a very merry party, and -Frithiof, at length free from the load of his father’s debts, -seemed suddenly to grow ten years younger. Indeed, Sigrid, -who for so long had seen her hopes for Cecil defeated by the -cares and toils brought by these same debts, began to fear that -now his extreme happiness in his freedom would quite suffice -to him, and that he would desire nothing further.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Certainly, for many years he had known nothing like the -happiness of that voyage, with its bright expectation, its sense -of relief. To look back on the feverish excitement of his voyage -to England five years before was like looking back into -some other life; and if the world was a graver and sadder -place to him now than it had been long ago, he had at any -rate learned that life was not limited to three-score years and -ten, and had gained a far deeper happiness of which no one -could rob him. On the Wednesday night he slept little, and -very early in the morning was up on the wet and shining deck -eagerly looking at the first glimpse of his own country. His -heart bounded within him when the red roofs and gables of -Stavanger came into sight, and he was the very first to leap -off the steamer, far too impatient to touch Norwegian soil once -more to dream of waiting for the more leisurely members of -the party. The quiet little town seemed still fast asleep; he -scarcely met a soul in the primitive streets with their neat -wooden houses and their delightful look of home. In a rapture -of happiness he walked on drinking down deep breaths of the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_342'>342</span>fresh morning air, until coming at length to the cathedral he -caught sight of an old woman standing at the door, key in hand.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He stopped and had a long conversation with her for the mere -pleasure of hearing his native tongue once more; he made her -happy with a <i><span lang="no" xml:lang="no">kroner</span></i> and enjoyed her grateful shake of the -hand, then, partly to please her, entered the cathedral. In the -morning light, the severe beauty of the old Norman nave was -very impressive; he knelt for a minute or two, glad to have the -uninterrupted quiet of the great place before it had been -reached by any of the tourists. It came into his mind how, -long ago, his father’s last words to him had been “A happy -return to Gammle Norge,” how for so long those words had -seemed to him the bitterest mockery—an utter impossibility—and -how, at last in a very strange and different way, they had -come true. He had come back, and, spite of all that had intervened, -he was happy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Later in the day, when they slowly steamed into Bergen harbor -and saw once more the place that he had so often longed -for, with its dear familiar houses and spires, its lovely surrounding -mountains, his happiness was not without a strong touch -of pain. For after all, though the place remained, his home -had gone forever, and though Herr Grönvold stood waiting for -them on the landing quay with the heartiest of welcomes, yet -he could not but feel a terrible blank.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil read his face in a moment, and understood just what -he was feeling.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Come and let us look for the luggage,” she said to Roy, -wishing to leave the three Norwegians to themselves for a few -minutes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Rather different to our last arrival here,” said Roy brightly. -He was so very happy that it was hardly likely he should think -just then of other people. But as Cecil gave the assent which -seemed so matter-of-fact her eyes filled with tears, for she could -not help thinking of all the brightness of that first visit, of -Frithiof with his boyish gayety and light-heartedness, of the -kindness and hospitality of his father, of the pretty villa in -Kalvedalen, of poor Blanche in her innocent girlhood.</p> - -<p class='c000'>They were all to stay for a few days with the Grönvolds, and -there was now plenty of room for them, since Karen and the -eldest son were married and settled in homes of their own. Fru -Grönvold and Sigrid met with the utmost affection, and all the -petty quarrels and vexations of the past were forgotten; indeed, -the very first evening they had a hearty laugh over the recollection -of their difference of opinion about Torvald Lundgren.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_343'>343</span>“And, my dear” said Fru Grönvold, who was as usual knitting -an interminable stocking. “You need not feel at all anxious -about him, he is very happily married, and I think, yes, -certainly can not help owning, that he manages his household -with a firmer hand than would perhaps have suited you. He -has a very pretty little wife who worships the ground he -treads on.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Which you see I could never have done,” said Sigrid merrily. -“Poor Torvald! I am very glad he is happily settled. -Frithiof must go and see him. How do you think Swanhild is -looking, Auntie?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Very well and very pretty,” said Fru Grönvold. “One -would naturally suppose that, at her rather awkward age, she -would have lost her good looks, but she is as graceful as ever.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She is a very brave, hard-working little woman,” said -Sigrid. “I told you that she had begged so hard to stay on -with Madame Lechertier that we had consented. It would -indeed have been hardly fair to take her away all at once, when -Madame had been so kind and helpful to us; and Swanhild is -very independent, you know, and declares that she must have -some sort of profession, and that to be a teacher of dancing is -clearly her vocation.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“By and by, when she is grown up, she is going to keep my -house,” said Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, no,” said Sigrid; “I shall never spare her, unless it is -to get married; you two would never get on by yourselves. -By the by, I am sure Cecil is keeping away from us on purpose; -she went off on the plea of reading for her half-hour society, but -she has been gone quite a long time. Go and find her, Frithiof, -and tell her we very much want her.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He went out and found Cecil comfortably installed in the -dining-room with her book.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Have you not read enough?” he said. “We are very dull -without you in there.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I thought you would have so much to talk over together,” -she said, putting down her book and lifting her soft gray eyes -to his.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Not a bit,” he replied; “we are pining for music and want -you to sing, if you are not too tired. What learned book were -you reading, after such a journey? Plato?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“A translation of the ‘Phaedo,’” she said. “There is such -a strange little bit here about pleasure being mixed with pain -always.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, they had found that out in those days, had they?” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_344'>344</span>said Frithiof. “Read the bit to me; for, to tell you the truth, -it would fit in rather well with this return to Bergen.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil turned over the pages and read the following speech -of Socrates:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“‘How singular is the thing called pleasure, and how curiously -related to pain, which might be thought to be the opposite -of it; for they never come to man together, and yet he who -pursues either of them is generally compelled to take the other. -They are two, and yet they grow together out of one head or -stem; and I cannot help thinking that if Æsop had noticed -them he would have made a fable about God trying to reconcile -their strife, and when he could not, he fastened their heads -together; and this is the reason why, when one comes the -other follows.’”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It’s odd to think that all these hundreds of years people -have been racking their brains to find some explanation of -the great problem,” said Frithiof, “that generation after generation -of unsatisfied people have lived and died.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“A poor woman from East London once answered the problem -to me quite unconsciously,” said Cecil. “She was down -in the country for change of air, and she said to me, ‘It’s just -like Paradise here, miss, and if it could always go on it would -be heaven.’”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He sighed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Come and sing me ‘Princessen,’” he said, “if you are -really not too tired. I am very much in the mood of that restless -lady in the poem.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And, in truth, often during those days at Bergen he was -haunted by the weird ending of the song—</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“‘What <em>do</em> I then want, my God?’ she cried</div> - <div class='line'>Then the sun went down.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>He had a good deal of business to see to, and the clearing off -of the debts was, of course, not without a considerable pleasure; -he greatly enjoyed, too, the hearty welcome of his old -friends; but there was always something wanting. For every -street, every view, every inch of the place was associated with -his father, and, dearly as he loved Bergen, he felt that he could -not have borne to live in it again. He seemed to find his chief -happiness in lionizing Cecil, and sometimes, when with her, -the pain of the return was forgotten, and he so enjoyed her -admiration of his native city that he no longer felt the terrible -craving for his father’s presence. They went to Nestun, and -wandered about in the woods; they took Cecil to see the quaint -<span class='pageno' id='Page_345'>345</span>old wooden church from Fortun; they had a merry picnic at -Fjessanger, and an early expedition to the Bergen fish market, -determined that Cecil should enjoy that picturesque scene with -the weather-beaten fishermen, the bargaining housewives with -their tin pails, the boats laden with their shining wealth of fishes. -Again and again, too, they walked up the beautiful <i><span lang="da" xml:lang="da">fjeldveien</span></i> to -gain that wonderful bird’s-eye view over the town and the harbor -and the lakes. But perhaps no one was sorry when the -visit came to an end, and they were once more on their travels, -going by sea to Molde and thence to Naes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was quite late one evening that they steamed down the -darkening Romsdalsfjord. The great Romsdalshorn reared its -dark head solemnly into the calm sky, and everywhere peace -seemed to reign. The steamer was almost empty; Frithiof and -Cecil stood alone at the forecastle end, silently reveling in the -exquisite view before them.</p> - -<p class='c000'>A thousand thoughts were seething in Frithiof’s mind; that -first glimpse of the Romsdalshorn had taken him back to the -great crisis of his life; in strange contrast to that peaceful -scene he had a vision of a crowded London street; in yet -stranger contrast to his present happiness and relief he once -more looked into the past, and thought of his hopeless misery, -of his deadly peril, of the struggle he had gone through, of the -chance which had made him pause before the picture shop, -and of his recognition of the painting of his native mountains. -Then he thought of his first approach to Rowan Tree House -on that dusky November afternoon, and he thought of his -strange dream of the beasts, and the precipice, and the steep -mountain-side, and the opening door with the Madonna and -Child framed in dazzling light. Just at that moment from -behind the dark purple mountains rose the great, golden-red -moon. It was a sight never to be forgotten, and the glow and -glamour cast by it over the whole scene was indescribable. -Veblungsnaes with its busy wooden pier and its dusky houses -with here and there a light twinkling from a window; the -Romsdalshorn with its lofty peak, and the beautiful valley beyond -bathed in that sort of dim brightness and misty radiance -which can be given by nothing but the rising moon.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof turned and looked at Cecil.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She had taken off her hat that she might better enjoy the -soft evening breeze which was ruffling up her fair hair; her -blue dress was one of those shades which are called “new,” -but which are not unlike the old blue in which artists have always -<span class='pageno' id='Page_346'>346</span>loved to paint the Madonna; her face was very quiet and -happy; the soft evening light seemed to etherealize her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You will never know how much I owe to you,” he said impetuously. -“Had it not been for all that you did for me in -the past I could not possibly have been here to-night.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She had been looking toward Veblungsnaes, but now she -turned to him with a glance so beautiful, so rapturously happy, -that it seemed to waken new life within him. He was so -amazed at the strength of the passion which suddenly took possession -of him that for a time he could hardly believe he was -in real waking existence; this magical evening light, this exquisite -fjord with its well-known mountains, might well be the -scenery of some dream; and Cecil did not speak to him, she -merely gave him that one glance and smile, and then stood -beside him silently, as though there were no need of speech -between them.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He was glad she was silent, for he dreaded lest anything -should rouse him and take him back to the dull, cold past—the -past in which for so long he had lived with his heart half -dead, upheld only by the intention of redeeming his father’s -honor. To go back to that state would be terrible; moreover, -the aim no longer existed. The debts were paid—his work -was over, and yet his life lay before him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Was it to be merely a business life—a long round of duty -work? or was it possible that love might glorify the every-day -round—that even for him this intense happiness, which as yet -he could hardly believe to be real, might actually dawn?</p> - -<p class='c000'>And the steamer glided on over the calm moonlit waters, -and drew nearer to Veblungsnaes, where an eager-faced crowd -waited for the great event of the day. A sudden terror seized -Frithiof that some one would come to their end of the steamer -and break the spell that bound him, and then the very fear -itself made him realize that this was no dream, but a great reality. -Cecil was beside him, and he loved her—a new era had -begun in his life. He loved her, and grudged whatever could -interfere with that strange sense of nearness to her and of bliss -in the consciousness which had suddenly changed his whole -world.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But no one came near them. Still they stood there—side -by side, and the steamer moved on peacefully once more, the -silvery track still marking the calm fjord till they reached the -little boat that was to land them at Naes. He wished that -they could have gone on for hours, for as yet the mere consciousness -of his own love satisfied him—he wanted nothing -<span class='pageno' id='Page_347'>347</span>but the rapture of life after death—of brightness after gloom. -When it was no longer possible to prolong that strange, weird -calm, he went, like a man half awake, to see after the luggage, -and presently, with an odd, dazzled feeling found himself on -the shore, where Herr Lossius, the landlord, stood to welcome -them.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Which is the hotel?” asked Roy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And Herr Lossius replied in his quaint, careful English, “It -is yonder, sir—that house just under the moon.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Did you ever hear such a poetical direction?” said Cecil, -smiling as they walked up the road together.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It suits the evening very well,” said Frithiof. “I am glad -he did not say, ‘First turning to your right, second to your left, -and keep straight on,’ like a Londoner.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But the “house under the moon,” though comfortable -enough, did not prove a good sleeping-place. All the night -long Frithiof lay broad awake in his quaint room, and at length, -weary of staring at the picture of the stag painted on the window-blind, -he drew it up and lay looking out at the dark Romsdalshorn, -for the bed was placed across the window, and commanded a -beautiful view.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He could think of nothing but Cecil, of the strange, new insight -that had come to him so suddenly, of the marvel that, -having known her so long and so intimately, he had only just -realized the beauty of her character, with its tender, womanly -grace, its quiet strength, its steadfastness, and repose. Then -came a wave of anxious doubt that drove sleep farther than -ever from him. It was no longer enough to be conscious of his -love for her. He began to wonder whether it was in the least -probable that she could ever care for him. Knowing the whole -of his past life, knowing his faults so well, was it likely that she -would ever dream of accepting his love?</p> - -<p class='c000'>He fell into great despondency; but the recollection of that -sweet, bright glance which she had given him in reply to his -impetuous burst of gratitude, reassured him; and when, later -on, he met her at breakfast his doubts were held at bay, and -his hopes raised, not by anything that she did or said, but by -her mere presence.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Whether Sigrid at all guessed at the state of affairs and -arranged accordingly, or whether it was a mere chance, it -so happened that for the greater part of that day as they traveled -through the beautiful Romsdal, Frithiof and Cecil were -together.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What will you do?” said Cecil to herself, “when all this -<span class='pageno' id='Page_348'>348</span>is over? How will you go back to ordinary life when the tour -is ended!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But though she tried in this way to take the edge off her -pleasure, she could not do it. Afterward might take care of -itself. There was no possibility of realizing it now, she would -enjoy to the full just the present that was hers, the long talks -with Frithiof, the delightful sense of fellowship with him, the -mutual enjoyment of that exquisite valley.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And so they drove on, past Aak, with its lovely trees and its -rippling river, past the lovely Romsdalshorn, past the Troltinderne, -with their weird outline looming up against the blue sky -like the battlements and pinnacles of some magic city. About -the middle of the day they reached Horgheim, where it had -been arranged that they should spend the night. Frithiof was -in a mood to find everything beautiful; he even admired the -rather bare-looking posting-station, just a long, brown, wooden -house with a high flight of steps to the door and seats on either -side. On the doorstep lay a fine white and tabby cat, which -he declared he could remember years before when they had -visited the Romsdal.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And that is very possible,” said the landlady, with a -pleased look. “For we have had him these fourteen years.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Every one crowded round to look at this antiquated cat.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What is his name?” asked Cecil, speaking in Norse.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“His name is Mons,” said the landlady, “Mons Horgheim.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>They all laughed at the thought of a cat with a surname, and -then came a general dispersion in quest of rooms. Cecil and -Swanhild chose one which looked out across a grassy slope to -the river; the Rauma just at this part is very still, and of a -deep green color; beyond were jagged, gray mountains and the -moraine of a glacier covered here and there with birch and -juniper. Half-a-dozen little houses with grass-grown roofs -nestled at the foot, and near them were sweet-smelling hayfields -and patches of golden corn.</p> - -<p class='c000'>They dined merrily on salmon, wild strawberries, and cream, -and then a walk was proposed. Cecil, however, excused herself, -saying that she had letters to write home, and so it chanced -that Frithiof and Sigrid had what did not often fall to their lot -in those days, the chance of a quiet talk.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What is wrong with you, dear old boy?” she said; for -since they had left Horgheim she could not but notice that he -had grown grave and absorbed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Nothing,” he said, with rather a forced laugh. But, though -he tried to resume his usual manner and talked with her and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_349'>349</span>teased her playfully, she knew that he had something on his -mind, and half-hopefully, half-fearfully, made one more attempt -to win his confidence.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Let us rest here in the shade,” she said, settling herself -comfortably under a silver birch. “Roy and Swanhild walk at -such a pace that I think we will let them have the first view of -the Mongefos.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He threw himself down on the grass beside her, and for a -time there was silence.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You did not sleep last night,” she said presently.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How do you know that?” he said, his color rising a little.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, I know it by your forehead. You were worrying over -something. Come, confess.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He sat up and began to speak abruptly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I want to ask you a question,” he said, looking up the valley -beyond her and avoiding her eyes. “Do you think a man has -any business to offer to a woman a love which is not his first -passion?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“At one time I thought not,” said Sigrid. “But as I grew -older and understood things more it seemed to me different. -I think there would be few marriages in the world if we made -a rule of that sort. And a woman who really loved would lose -sight of all selfishness and littleness and jealousy just because -of the strength of her love.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He turned and looked straight into her eyes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And if I were to tell Cecil that I loved her, do you think -she would at any rate listen to me?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am not going to say ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to that question,” said -Sigrid, suddenly bending forward and giving him a kiss—a -salute almost unknown between a Norwegian brother and -sister. “But I will say instead ‘Go and try.’”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You think then—”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She sprang to her feet.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t think at all,” she said laughingly. “Good-by. I am -going to meet the others at the Mongefos, and you—you are -going back to Horgheim. Adjö.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She waved her hand to him and walked resolutely away. -He watched her out of sight, then fell back again to his former -position on the grass, and thought. She had told him nothing -and yet somehow had brought to him a most wonderful sense -of rest and peace.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Presently he got up, and began to retrace his steps along the -valley.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_350'>350</span> - <h2 id='XL' class='c005'>CHAPTER XL.</h2> -</div> - -<p class='c007'>The afternoon was not so clear as the morning had been, yet -it had a beauty of its own which appealed to Frithiof very -strongly. The blue sky had changed to a soft pearly gray, all -round him rose grave, majestic mountains, their summits clear -against the pale background, but wreaths of white mist clinging -about their sides in fantastic twists and curves which bridged -over huge yawning chasms and seemed to join the valley into -a great amphitheater. The stern gray and purple rocks looked -hardly real, so softened were they by the luminous summer haze. -Here and there the white snow gleamed coldly in long deep -crevices, or in broad clefts where from year’s end to year’s end -it remained unmelted by sun or rain. On each side of the road -there was a wilderness of birch and fir and juniper bushes, -while in the far distance could be heard the Mongefos with its -ceaseless sound of many waters, repeated on either hand by the -smaller waterfalls. Other sound there was none save the faint -tinkle of cowbells or the rare song of the little black and white -wagtails, which seemed the only birds in the valley.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Suddenly he perceived a little further along the road a slim -figure leaning against the fence, the folds of a blue dress, the -gleam of light-brown hair under a sealskin traveling cap. His -heart began to beat fast, he strode on more quickly, and Cecil, -hearing footsteps, looked up.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I had finished my letter and thought I would come out to -explore a little,” she said, as he joined her. “You have come -back?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” he said, “I have come back to you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She glanced at him questioningly, startled by his tone, but -before his eager look her eyelids dropped, and a soft glow of -color suffused her face.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Cecil,” he said, “do you remember what you said years -ago about men who worked hard to make their fortune and -then retired and were miserable because they had nothing -to do?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh yes,” she said, “I remember it very well, and have -often seen instances of it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am like that now,” he continued. “My work seems over, -and I stand at the threshold of a new life. It was you who -saved me from ruin in my old life—will you be my helper -now?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you think I really could help?” she said wistfully.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_351'>351</span>He looked at her gentle eyes, at her pure, womanly face, and -he knew that his life was in her hands.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I do not know,” he said gravely. “It depends on whether -you could love me—whether you will let me speak of my love -for you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then, as he paused, partly because his English words would -not come very readily, partly in hope of some sign of encouragement -from her, she turned to him with a face which shone with -heavenly light.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There must never be any secrets between us,” she said, -speaking quite simply and directly. “I have loved you ever -since you first came to us—years ago.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was nothing to Frithiof that they were standing at the side -of the king’s highway—he had lost all sense of time and place—the -world only contained for him the woman who loved him—the -woman who let him clasp her in his strong arm—let him -press her sweet face to his.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And still from the distance came the sound of many waters, -and the faint tinkle of the cowbells, and the song of the little -black and white birds. The grave gray mountains seemed like -strong and kindly friends who sheltered them and shut them in -from all intrusion of the outer world, but they were so entirely -absorbed in each other that they had not a thought of anything -else.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“With you I shall have courage to begin life afresh,” he said, -after a time. “To have the right to love you—to be always -with you—that will be everything to me.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And then as he thought of her true-hearted confession, he -tried to understand a little better the unseen ordering of his -life, and he loved to think that those weary years had been -wasted neither on him nor on Cecil herself. He could not for -one moment doubt that her pure, unselfish love had again and -again shielded him from evil, that all through his English life, -with its hard struggles and bitter sufferings, her love had in -some unknown way been his safeguard, and that his life, -crippled by the faithlessness of a woman, had by a woman also -been redeemed. All his old morbid craving for death had -gone; he eagerly desired a long life, that he might live with -her, work for her, shield her from care, fill up, to the best of -his power, what was incomplete in her life.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I shall have a postscript to add to my letter,” said Cecil -presently, looking up at him with the radiant smile which he -so loved to see on her lips. “What a very feminine one it will -<span class='pageno' id='Page_352'>352</span>be! We say, you know, in England, that a woman’s postscript -is the most important part of her letter.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Will your father and mother ever spare you to me?” said -Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“They will certainly welcome you as their son,” she replied.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And Mr. and Mrs. Horner?” suggested Frithiof mischievously.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But at the thought of the consternation of her worthy cousins -Cecil could do nothing but laugh.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Never mind,” she said, “they have always disapproved of -me as much as they have of you; they will perhaps say that it -is, after all, a highly suitable arrangement!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I wonder whether Swanhild will say the same?” said -Frithiof with a smile; “here she comes, hurrying home alone. -Will you wait by the river and let me just tell her my good -news?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He walked along the road to meet his sister, who, spite of -added years and inches, still retained much of her childlikeness.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why are you all alone?” he said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, there is no fun,” said Swanhild. “When Roy and -Sigrid are out on a holiday they are just like lovers, so I came -back to you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What will you say when I tell you that I am betrothed,” -he said teasingly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She looked up in his face with some alarm.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are only making fun of me,” she protested.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“On the contrary, I am stating the most serious of facts. -Come, I want your congratulations.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But who are you betrothed to?” asked Swanhild, bewildered. -“Can it be to Madale? And, oh dear, what a horrid -time to choose for it—you will be just no good at all. I really -do think you might have waited till the end of the tour.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It might possibly have been managed if you had spoken -sooner,” said Frithiof, with mock gravity, “but you come too -late—the deed is done.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, I shall have Cecil to talk to, so after all it doesn’t -much matter,” said Swanhild graciously.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But, unfortunately, she also has become betrothed,” said -Frithiof, watching the bewildered little face with keen pleasure, -and seeing the light of perception suddenly dawn on it.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Swanhild caught his hand in hers.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You don’t mean—” she began.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh yes,” cried Frithiof, “but I do mean it very much indeed. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_353'>353</span>Come,” and he hurried her down the grassy slope to -the river. “I shall tell Cecil every word you have been saying.” -Then, as she rose to meet them, he said with a laugh, -“This selfish child thinks we might have put it off till the end -of the tour for her special benefit.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, no,” cried Swanhild, flying toward Cecil with outstretched -arms. “I never knew it was to you he was betrothed—and -you could never be that horrid, moony kind who are -always sitting alone together in corners.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>At which ingenuous congratulations they all laughed so immoderately -that Mons Horgheim the cat was roused from his -afternoon nap on the steps of the station, and after a preliminary -stretch strolled down toward the river to see what was the -matter, and to bring the sobriety and accumulated wisdom of -his fourteen years to bear upon the situation.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ah, well,” said Swanhild, with a comical gesture, “there is -clearly nothing for me but, as they say in Italy, to stay at home -and nurse the cat.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And catching up the astonished Mons, she danced away, -eager to be the first to tell the good news to Roy and -Sigrid.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It will be really very convenient,” she remarked, to the -infinite amusement of her elders. “We shall not lose Frithiof -at all; he will only have to move across to Rowan Tree -House.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And ultimately that was how matters arranged themselves, -so that the house which had sheltered Frithiof in his time of -trouble became his home in this time of his prosperity.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He had not rushed all at once into full light and complete -manhood and lasting happiness. Very slowly, very gradually, -the life that had been plunged in darkness had emerged into -faint twilight as he had struggled to redeem his father’s name; -then, by degrees, the brightness of dawn had increased, and, -sometimes helped, sometimes hindered by the lives which had -come into contact with his own, he had at length emerged into -clearer light, till, after long waiting, the sun had indeed risen.</p> - -<p class='c000'>As Swanhild had prophesied, they were by no means selfish -lovers, and, far from spoiling the tour, their happiness did much -to add to its success.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil hardly knew which part of it was most delightful to -her, the return of Molde and the pilgrimage to the quaint little -jeweler’s shop where they chose two plain gold betrothal rings -such as are always used in Norway; or the merry journey to -the Geiranger; or the quiet days at Oldören, in that lovely -<span class='pageno' id='Page_354'>354</span>valley with the river curving and bending its way between -wooded banks, and the rampart of grand, craggy mountains -with snowy peaks, her own special mountain, as Frithiof called -Cecilienkrone, dominating all.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was at Oldören that she saw for the first time one of the -prettiest sights in Norway—a country wedding. The charming -bride, Pernilla, in her silver-gilt crown and bridal ornaments, -had her heartiest sympathy, and Frithiof, happening to catch -sight of the fiddler standing idly by the churchyard gate when -the ceremony was over, brought him into the hotel and set every -one dancing. Anna Rasmusen, the clever and charming manager -of the inn, volunteered to try the <i><span lang="no" xml:lang="no">spring dans</span></i> with Halfstan, -the guide. The hamlet was searched for dancers of the <em>halling</em>, -and the women showed them the pretty <em>jelster</em> and the <em>tretur</em>.</p> - -<p class='c000'>By degrees all the population of the place crowded in as -spectators, and soon Johannes and Pernilla, the bride and bridegroom, -made their way through the throng, and, each carrying -a decanter, approached the visitors, shook hands with them, -and begged that they would drink their health. There was -something strangely simple and charming about the whole thing. -Such a scene could have been found in no other country save -in grand, free old Norway, where false standards of worth are -abolished, and where mutual respect and equal rights bind -each to each in true brotherhood.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The day after the wedding they spent at the Brixdals glacier, -rowing all together up the lake, but afterward separating, Frithiof -and Cecil walking in advance of the others up the beautiful -valley.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There will soon be a high-road to this glacier,” said Frithiof, -“but I am glad they are only beginning it now, and that we -have this rough path.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And Cecil was glad too. She liked the scramble and the -little bit of climbing needed here and there; she loved to feel -the strength and protection of Frithiof’s hand as he led her -over the rocks and bowlders. At last, after a long walk, they -reached a smooth, grassy oasis, shaded by silver birches and -bordered by a river, beyond, the Brixdalsbrae gleamed white -through the trees, with here and there exquisite shades of blue -visible in the ice even at that distance.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“This is just like the Land of Beulah,” said Cecil, smiling, -“and the glacier is the celestial city. How wonderful those -broken pinnacles of ice are!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Look at these two little streams running side by side for -so long and at last joining,” said Frithiof. “They are like our -<span class='pageno' id='Page_355'>355</span>two lives. For so many years you have been to me as we should -say <i><span lang="no" xml:lang="no">fortrölig</span></i>.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What does that mean?” she asked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It is untranslatable,” he said. “It is that in which one -puts one’s trust and confidence, but more besides. It means -exactly what you have always been to me.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil looked down at the little bunch of forget-me-nots and -lilies of the valley—the Norwegian national flowers with which -Frithiof loved to keep her supplied—and the remembrance of -all that she had borne during these five years came back to -her, and by contrast made the happy present yet sweeter.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I think,” she said, “I should like Signor Donati to know -of our happiness; he was the first who quite understood you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, I must write to him,” said Frithiof. “There is no -man to whom I owe more.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And thinking of the Italian’s life and character and of his -own past, he grew silent.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you know,” he said at length, “there is one thing I want -you to do for me. I want you to give me back my regard for -the Sogne once more. I want, on our way home, just to pass -Balholm again.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And so one day it happened that they found themselves on -the well-remembered fjord, and coming up on deck when dinner -was over, saw that already the familiar scenes of the Frithiof -saga were coming into view.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Look! look!” said Frithiof. “There, far in front of us is -the Kvinnafos, looking like a thread of white on the dark rock; -and over to the right is Framnaes!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil stood beside him on the upper deck, and gradually the -scene unfolded. They saw the little wooded peninsula, the -lovely mountains round the Fjaerlands fjord, Munkeggen itself, -with much more snow than during their last visit, and then, -once again, King Bele’s grave, and the scattered cottages, with -their red-tiled roofs, and the familiar hotel, somewhat enlarged, -yet recalling a hundred memories.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Gravely and thoughtfully Frithiof looked on the little hamlet -and on Munkeggen. It was a picture that had been traced on -his mind by pleasure and engraved by pain. Cecil drew a little -nearer to him, and though no word passed between them, yet -intuitively their thoughts turned to one who must ever be associated -with those bright days spent in the house of Ole Kvikne -long ago. There was no indignation in their thoughts of her, -but there was pain, and pity, and hope, and the love which is -at once the source and the outcome of forgiveness. They -<span class='pageno' id='Page_356'>356</span>wondered much how matters stood with her out in the far-off -southern seas, where she struggled on in a new life, which must -always, to the very end, be shadowed by the old. And then -Frithiof thought of his father, of his own youth, of the wonderful -glamor and gladness that had been doomed so soon to pass -into total eclipse, and feeling like some returned ghost, he -glided close by the flagstaff, and the gray rocks, and the trees -which had sheltered his farewell to Blanche. A strange and -altogether indescribable feeling stole over him, but it was -speedily dispelled. There was a link which happily bound his -past to his present—a memory which nothing could spoil—on -the quay he instantly perceived the well-remembered faces of -the kindly landlord, Ole Kvikne, and his brother Knut.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“See!” she exclaimed with a smile, “there are the Kviknes -looking not a day older! We must see if they remember -us.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Did they not remember? Of course they did! And what -bowing and hand-shaking went on in the brief waiting time. -They had heard of Frithiof, moreover, and knew how nobly he -had redeemed his father’s name. They were enchanted at -meeting him once more.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Let me have the pleasure, Kvikne, to introduce to you -my betrothed, who was also your guest long ago,” said -Frithiof, taking Cecil’s hand and placing it in that of the -landlord.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And the warm congratulations and hearty good wishes -of Ole and Knut Kvikne were only cut short by the bell, -which warned the travelers that they must hasten up the -gangway.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We shall come back,” said Frithiof. “Another summer we -shall stay with you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes,” said Cecil. “After all there is nothing equal to -Balholm. I had forgotten how lovely it was.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>As they glided on they left the little place bathed in sunshine, -and in silence they watched it, till at last a bend in the -fjord hid it from view.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frithiof fell into deep thought.</p> - -<p class='c000'>What part had that passionate first love of his played in his -life-story? Well, it had been to him a curse; it had dragged -him down into depths of despair and to the verge of vice; it -had steeped him in bitterness and filled his heart with anguish. -Yet a more perfect love had awaited him—a passion less fierce -but more tender, less vehement but more lasting; and all those -<span class='pageno' id='Page_357'>357</span>years Cecil’s heart had really been his, though he had so little -dreamed of it.</p> - -<p class='c000'>As if in a picture, he saw the stages through which he had -passed—the rapture of mere physical existence; the intolerable -pain and humiliation of Blanche’s betrayal; the anguish -of bereavement; the shame of bankruptcy; the long effort to -pay the debts; the slow return to belief in human beings; the -toilsome steps that had each brought him a clearer knowledge -of the Unseen, for which he had once felt no need; and, -finally, this wonderful love springing up like a fountain in his -life, ready to gladden his somewhat prosaic round of daily -work.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was evening when they left the steamer at Sogndal, but -they were none of them in a mood for settling down, and indeed -the weather was so hot that they often preferred traveling -after supper. So it was arranged that they should go on -to a very primitive little place called Hillestad, sleep there for -a few hours, and then proceed to the Lyster fjord. Cecil, who -was a much better walker than either Sigrid or Swanhild, -was to go on foot with Frithiof; the others secured a stolkjaerre -and a carriole, and went on in advance with the -luggage.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The two lovers walked briskly along the side of the fjord, -but slackened their pace when they reached the long, sandy -hill, with its sharp zigzags; the evening was still and cloudless; -above them towered huge, rocky cliffs, partly veiled by -undergrowth, and all the air was sweet with the scent of the -pine trees. They were close to St. Olaf’s well, where, from -time immemorial, the country people have come to drink and -pray for recovery from illness.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Don’t you think we ought to drink to my future health,” -said Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He smiled, yet in his eyes she saw all the time the look of -sadness that had come to him as they approached Balholm.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The one sting in his perfect happiness was the thought that -he could not bring to Cecil the unbroken health that had once -been his. He knew that the strain of his passed trouble had -left upon him marks which he must carry to his grave, and -that the consequences of Blanche’s faithlessness had brought -with them a secret anxiety which must to some extent shadow -Cecil’s life. The knowledge was hard: it humiliated him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Cecil knew him so well that she read his thoughts in an -instant.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_358'>358</span>“Look at all these little crosses set up in the moss on this -rock!” she exclaimed when they had scrambled up the steep -ascent. “I wonder how many hundreds of years this has been -the custom? I wonder how many troubled people have come -here to drink?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And have gained nothing by their superstition?” said -Frithiof.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It was superstition,” she said thoughtfully. “And yet, perhaps, -the sight of the cross and the drinking of the water at -least helped them to new thoughts of suffering and of life. -Who knows, perhaps some of them went away able to glory in -their infirmities?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He did not speak for some minutes, but stood lost in the train -of thought suggested to him by her words. The sadness gradually -died out of his face, and she quite understood that it was -with no trace of superstition, but merely as a sign of gratitude -for a thought which had helped him, that he took two little -straight twigs, stooped to drink from St. Olafskilde, and then -set up his cross among the others in the mossy wall. After -that they clambered down over the bowlders into the sandy -road once more, and climbed the steep hill leisurely, planning -many things for the future—the rooms in Rowan Tree House, -the little wooden cottage that they meant to build at Gödesund, -three hours by water from Bergen, on a tiny island, which -might be bought at a trifling cost; the bright holiday weeks -that they would spend there; the work they might share; the -efforts they might make together in their London life.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But the sharp contrast between this pictured future and the -actual past could hardly fail to strike one of Frithiof’s temperament; -it was the thought of this which prompted him to speak -as they paused to rest on the wooded heights above Hillestad.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I almost wonder,” he said, “that you have courage to marry -such an ill-starred fellow as I have always proved to be. You -are very brave to take the risk.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She answered him only with her eyes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“So,” he said with a smile, “you think, perhaps, after all the -troubles there must be a good time coming?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That may very well be,” she replied, “but now that we -belong to each other outer things matter little.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you remember the lines about Norway in the Princess?” -he said. “Your love has made them true for me.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Say them now,” she said; “I have forgotten,”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And, looking out over the ruddy sky where, in this night -<span class='pageno' id='Page_359'>359</span>hour, the glow of sunset mingled with the glow of dawn, he -quoted the words:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c008'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line in16'>“I was one</div> - <div class='line'>To whom the touch of all mischance but came</div> - <div class='line'>As night to him that sitting on a hill</div> - <div class='line'>Sees the midsummer, midnight, Norway sun</div> - <div class='line'>Set into sunrise.”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>She followed the direction of his gaze and looked, through the -fir-trees on the hill upon which they were resting, down to the -lovely lake which lay below them like a sheet of mother-of-pearl -in the tranquil light. She looked beyond to the grand -cliff-like mountains with their snowy tops touched here and -there into the most exquisite rose-color by the rising sun; and -then she turned back to the strong Norse face with its clearly -cut features, its look of strength, and independence, and noble -courage, and her heart throbbed with joy as she thought how -foreign to it was that hard, bitter expression of the past. As -he repeated the words “Set into sunrise” his eyes met hers -fully; all the tenderness and strength of his nature and an -infinite promise of future possibilities seemed to strike down -into her very soul in that glance. He drew her toward him, -and over both of them there stole the strange calm which is -sometimes the outcome of strong feeling.</p> - -<p class='c000'>All nature seemed full of perfect peace; and with the sight -of those snowy mountains and the familiar scent of the pines -to tell him that he was indeed in his own country, with Cecil’s -loving presence to assure him of his new possession, and with -a peace in his heart which had first come to him in bitter -humiliation and trouble, Frithiof, too, was at rest.</p> - -<p class='c000'>After all, what were the possible trials that lay before them? -What was all earthly pain? Looked at in a true light, suffering -seemed, indeed, but as this brief northern night, and death but -as the herald of eternal day.</p> - -<hr class='c009' /> - -<p class='c000'>“Cecil,” said Frithiof, looking again into her sweet, grave -eyes, “who would have thought that the <em>Linnæa</em> gathered all -those years ago should prove the first link in the chain that -was to bind us together forever?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It was strange,” she replied, with a smile, as she gathered -one of the long trails growing close by and looked at the lovely -little white bells with their pink veins.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He took it from her, and began to twine it in her hair.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_360'>360</span>“I didn’t expect to find it here,” he said, “and brought a -fine plant of it from Nord fjord. We must take it home with -us that you may have some for your bridal wreath.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She made a little exclamation of doubt.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, Frithiof? How long do you think it will go on -flowering?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“For another month,” he said, taking her glowing face -between his hands and stooping to kiss her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Only a month!” she faltered.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Surely that will be long enough to read the banns?” he -said, with a smile. “And you really ought not to keep the -<em>Linnæa</em> waiting a day longer.”</p> - -<p> </p> -<p> </p> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c003' /> -</div> -<p> </p> -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE</h2> -</div> - <ol class='ol_1 c002'> - <li>Added table of <a href='#CONTENTS'>CONTENTS</a>. - - </li> - <li>Changed “keep him from taking” to “keep him from talking” on p. <a href='#t173'>173</a>. - - </li> - <li>Changed “be better of” to “be better off” on p. <a href='#t194'>194</a>. - - </li> - <li>The publisher often used “ö” instead of “ø”. - - </li> - <li>“Björnsen”, “Bjornsen”, and “Bjornson” are all likely references to the author - “Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson”. - - </li> - <li>Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed. - - </li> - <li>Retained poetry as printed. - - </li> - <li>Silently corrected typographical errors. - </li> - </ol> - -</div> - -<p> </p> -<p> </p> -<hr class="full" /> -<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A HARDY NORSEMAN***</p> -<p>******* This file should be named 55825-h.htm or 55825-h.zip *******</p> -<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> -<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/5/5/8/2/55825">http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/8/2/55825</a></p> -<p> -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed.</p> - -<p>Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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