FREDRIKA BREMER'S WORKS. 

THE HOME

OR, LIFE IN SWEDEN. 

 TRANSLATED BY MARY HOWITT. 

 LONDON: HENRY G. BOHN, YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN. 1853. 

C. WHITING, BEAUFORT HOUSE. 

THE HOME:

OR, LIFE IN SWEDEN. 

PART I. 

CHAPTER I. 

MORNING DISPUTE AND EVENING CONTENTION. 

"My sweet friend, " said Judge Frank, in a tone of vexation, "it is notworth while reading aloud to you if you keep yawning incessantly, andlooking about, first to the right and then to the left;" and with thesewords he laid down a treatise of Jeremy Bentham, which he had beenreading, and rose from his seat. 

"Ah, forgive me, dear friend!" returned his wife, "but really these goodthings are all somewhat indigestible, and I was thinking about----Comehere, dear Brigitta!" said Mrs. Elise Frank, beckoning an old servant toher, to whom she then spoke in an under tone. 

Whilst this was going on, the Judge, a handsome strong-built man ofprobably forty, walked up and down the room, and then suddenly pausingas if in consideration, before one of the walls, he exclaimed to hiswife, who by this time had finished her conversation with the oldservant, "See, love, now if we were to have a door opened here--and itcould very easily be done, for it is only a lath-and-plaster wall--wecould then get so conveniently into our bedroom, without first goingthrough the sitting-room and the nursery--it would indeed be capital!"

"But then, where could the sofa stand?" answered Elise, with someanxiety. 

"The sofa?" returned her husband; "oh, the sofa could be wheeled alittle aside; there is more than room enough for it. "

"But, my best friend, " replied she, "there would come a very dangerousdraft from the door to every one who sat in the corner. "

"Ah! always difficulties and impediments!" said the husband. "But cannotyou see, yourself, what a great advantage it would be if there were adoor here?"

"No, candidly speaking, " said she, "I think it is better as it is. "

"Yes, that is always the way with ladies, " returned he; "they will havenothing touched, nothing done, nothing changed, even to obtainimprovement and convenience; everything is good and excellent as it is, till somebody makes the alteration for them, and then they can see atonce how much better it is; and then they exclaim, 'Ah, see now that ischarming!' Ladies, without doubt, belong to the stand-still party!"

"And the gentlemen, " added she, "belong to the movement party; at leastwherever building and molestation-making comes across them!"

The conversation, which had hitherto appeared perfectlygood-humoured, seemed to assume a tone of bitterness from that word"molestation-making;" and in return the voice of the Judge was somewhataustere, as he replied to her taunt against the gentlemen. "Yes, " saidhe, "they are not afraid of a little trouble whenever a great advantageis to be obtained. But----are we to have no breakfast to-day? It istwenty-two minutes after nine! It really is shocking, dear Elise, thatyou cannot teach your maids punctuality! There is nothing moreintolerable than to lose one's time in waiting; nothing more useless;nothing more insupportable; nothing which more easily might beprevented, if people would only resolutely set about it! Life is reallytoo short for one to be able to waste half of it in waiting!Five-and-twenty minutes after nine! and the children--are they not readytoo? Dear Elise----"

"I'll go and see after them, " said she; and went out quickly. 

It was Sunday. The June sun shone into a large cheerful room, and upon asnow-white damask tablecloth, which in soft silken folds was spread overa long table, on which a handsome coffee-service was set out withconsiderable elegance. The disturbed countenance with which the Judgehad approached the breakfast-table, cleared itself instantly as aperson, whom young ladies would unquestionably have called "horriblyugly, " but whom no reflective physiognomist could have observed withoutinterest, entered the room. This person was tall, extremely thin, andsomewhat inclining to the left side; the complexion was dark, and thesomewhat noble features wore a melancholy expression, which but seldomgave place to a smile of unusual beauty. The forehead elevated itself, with its deep lines, above the large brown extraordinary eyes, and abovethis a wood of black-brown hair erected itself, under whose thick stiffcurls people said a multitude of ill-humours and paradoxes housedthemselves; so also, indeed, might they in all those deep furrows withwhich his countenance was lined, not one of which certainly was withoutits own signification. Still, there was not a sharp angle of that face;there was nothing, either in word or voice, of the Assessor, JeremiasMunter, however severe they might seem to be, which at the same time didnot conceal an expression of the deepest goodness of heart, and whichstamped itself upon his whole being, in the same way as the sap clotheswith green foliage the stiff resisting branches of the knotted oak. 

"Good day, brother!" exclaimed the Judge, cordially offering him hishand, "how are you?"

"Bad!" answered the melancholy man; "how can it be otherwise? Whatweather we have! As cold as January! And what people we have in theworld too: it is both a sin and shame! I am so angry to-day that----Haveyou read that malicious article against you in the----paper?"

"No, I don't take in that paper; but I have heard speak of the article, "said Judge Frank. "It is directed against my writing on the condition ofthe poor in the province, is it not?"

"Yes; or more properly no, " replied the Assessor, "for the extraordinaryfact is, that it contains nothing about that affair. It is againstyourself that it is aimed--the lowest insinuations, the coarsest abuse!"

"So I have heard, " said the Judge; "and on that very account I do nottrouble myself to read it. "

"Have you heard who has written it?" asked the visitor. 

"No, " returned the other; "nor do I wish to know. "

"But you should do so, " argued the Assessor; "people ought to know whoare their enemies. It is Mr. N. I should like to give the fellow threeemetics, that he might know the taste of his own gall!"

"What!" exclaimed Judge Frank, at once interested in the Assessor'snews--"N. , who lives nearly opposite to us, and who has so latelyreceived from the Cape his child, the poor little motherless girl?"

"The very same!" returned he; "but you must read this piece, if it beonly to give a relish to your coffee. See here; I have brought it withme. I have learned that it would be sent to your wife to-day. Yes, indeed, what pretty fellows there are in the world! But where is yourwife to-day? Ah! here she comes! Good morning, my lady Elise. Socharming in the early morning; but so pale! Eh, eh, eh; this is not asit should be! What is it that I say and preach continually? Exercise, fresh air--else nothing in the world avails anything. But who listens toone's preaching? No--adieu my friends! Ah! where is my snuff-box? Underthe newspapers? The abominable newspapers; they must lay their hands oneverything; one can't keep even one's snuff-box in peace for them!Adieu, Mrs. Elise! Adieu, Frank. Nay, see how he sits there and readscoarse abuse of himself, just as if it mattered nothing to him. Now helaughs into the bargain. Enjoy your breakfasts, my friends!"

"Will you not enjoy it with us?" asked the friendly voice of Mrs. Frank;"we can offer you to-day quite fresh home-baked bread. "

"No, I thank you, " said the Assessor; "I am no friend to such home-madethings; good for nothing, however much they may be bragged of. Home-baked, home-brewed, home-made. Heaven help us! It all sounds veryfine, but it's good for nothing. "

"Try if to-day it really be good for nothing, " urged she. "There, wehave now Madame Folette on the table; you must, at least, have a cup ofcoffee from her. "

"What do you mean?" asked the surprised Assessor; "what is it? Whathorrid Madame is it that is to give me a cup of coffee? I never couldbear old women; and if they are now to come upon the coffee-table----"

"The round coffee-pot there, " said Mrs. Frank, good-humouredly, "isMadame Folette. Could you not bear that?"

"But why call it so?" asked he. "What foolery is that?"

"It is a fancy of the children, " returned she. "An honest old woman ofthis name, whom I once treated to a cup of coffee, exclaimed, at thefirst sight of her favourite beverage, 'When I see a coffee-pot, it isall the same to me as if I saw an angel from heaven!' The children heardthis, and insisted upon it that there was a great resemblance in figurebetween Madame Folette and this coffee-pot; and so ever since it hasborne her name. The children are very fond of her, because she givesthem every Sunday morning their coffee. "

"What business have children with coffee?" asked the Assessor. "Cannotthey be thin enough without it; and are they to be burnt up before theirtime? There's Petrea, is she not lanky enough? I never was very fond ofher; and now, if she is to grow up into a coffee wife, why--"

"But, dear Munter, " said Mrs. Frank, "you are not in a good humourto-day. "

"Good humour!" replied he: "no, Mrs. Elise, I am not in a good humour; Idon't know what there is in the world to make people good-humoured. There now, your chair has torn a hole in my coat-lap! Is that pleasant?That's home-made too! But now I'll go; that is, if your doors--are theyhome-made too?--will let me pass. "

"But will you not come back, and dine with us?" asked she. 

"No, I thank you, " replied he; "I am invited elsewhere; and that in thishouse, too. "

"To Mrs. Chamberlain W----?" asked Mrs. Frank. 

"No, indeed!" answered the Assessor: "I cannot bear that woman. Shelectures me incessantly. Lectures me! I have a great wish to lectureher, I have! And then, her blessed dog--Pyrrhus or Pirre; I had a greatmind to kill it. And then, she is so thin. I cannot bear thin people;least of all, thin old women. "

"No?" said Mrs. Frank. "Don't you know, then, what rumour says of youand poor old Miss Rask?"

"That common person!" exclaimed Jeremias. "Well, and what says malice ofme and poor old Miss Rask?"

"That, not many days since, " said Mrs. Frank, "you met this old lady onyour stairs as she was going up to her own room; and that she wassighing, because of the long flight of stairs and her weak chest. Nowmalice says, that, with the utmost politeness, you offered her your arm, and conducted her up the stairs with the greatest possible care; norleft her, till she had reached her own door; and further, after all, that you sent her a pound of cough lozenges; and----"

"And do you believe, " interrupted the Assessor, "that I did that for herown sake? No, I thank you! I did it that the poor old skeleton might notfall down dead upon my steps, and I be obliged to climb over her uglycorpse. From no other cause in this world did I drag her up the stairs. Yes, yes, that was it! I dine to-day with Miss Berndes. She is always avery sensible person; and her little Miss Laura is very pretty. See, here have we now all the herd of children! Your most devoted servant, Sister Louise! So, indeed, little Miss Eva! she is not afraid of theugly old fellow, she--God bless her! there's some sugar-candy for her!And the little one! it looks just like a little angel. Do I make hercry? Then I must away; for I cannot endure children's crying. Oh, forheaven's sake! It may make a part of the charm of home: that I canbelieve;--perhaps it is home-music! Home-baked, home-made, home-music----hu!"

The Assessor sprang through the door; the Judge laughed; and the littleone became silent at the sight of a kringla, [1] through which thebeautiful eye of her brother Henrik spied at her as through aneye-glass; whilst the other children came bounding to thebreakfast-table. 

"Nay, nay, nay, my little angels, keep yourselves a little quiet, " saidthe mother. "Wait a moment, dear Petrea; patience is a virtue. Eva dear, don't behave in that way; you don't see me do so. "

Thus gently moralised the mother; whilst, with the help of her eldestdaughter, the little prudent Louise, she cared for the other children. The father went from one to another full of delight, patted their littleheads, and pulled them gently by the hair. 

"I ought, yesterday, to have cut all your hair, " said he. "Eva has quitea wig; one can hardly see her face for it. Give your papa a kiss, mylittle girl! I'll take your wig from you early to-morrow morning. "

"And mine too, and mine too, papa!" exclaimed the others. 

"Yes, yes, " answered the father, "I'll shear every one of you. "

All laughed but the little one; which, half frightened, hid itssunny-haired little head on the mother's bosom: the father raised itgently, and kissed, first it, and then the mother. 

"Now put sugar in papa's cup, " said she to the little one; "look! heholds it to you. "

The little one smiled, put sugar in the cup, and Madame Folette beganher joyful circuit. 

But we will now leave Madame Folette, home-baked bread, the familybreakfast, and the morning sun, and seat ourselves at the evening lamp, by the light of which Elise is writing. 

TO CECILIA. 

I must give you portraits of all my little flock of children; who now, having enjoyed their evening meal, are laid to rest upon their softpillows. Ah! if I had only a really good portrait--I mean a paintedone--of my Henrik, my first-born, my summer child, as I callhim--because he was born on a Midsummer-day, in the summer hours both ofmy life and my fortune; but only the pencil of a Correggio couldrepresent those beautiful, kind, blue eyes, those golden locks, thatloving mouth, and that countenance all so perfectly pure and beautiful!Goodness and joyfulness beam out from his whole being; even although hisbuoyant animal life, which seldom allows his arms or legs to be quiet, often expresses itself in not the most graceful manner. Myeleven-years-old boy is, alas! very--his father says--very unmanageable. Still, notwithstanding all this wildness, he is possessed of a deep andrestless fund of sentiment, which makes me often tremble for his futurehappiness. God defend my darling, my summer child, my only son! Oh, howdear he is to me! Ernst warns me often of too partial an affection forthis child; and on that very account will I now pass on from portraitNo. 1 to

No. 2. --Behold then the little Queen-bee, our eldest daughter, justturned ten years; and you will see a grave, fair girl, not handsome, butwith a round, sensible face; from which I hope, by degrees, to remove acertain ill-tempered expression. She is uncommonly industrious, silentand orderly, and kind towards her younger sisters, although very muchdisposed to lecture them; nor will she allow any opportunity to pass inwhich her importance as "eldest sister" is not observed; on whichaccount the little ones give her the titles of "Your Majesty" and "Mrs. Judge. " The little Louise appears to me one of those who will always bestill and sure; and who, on this account, will go fortunately though theworld. 

No. 3. --People say that my little nine-years-old Eva will be very likeher mother. I hope it will prove a really splendid fac-simile. See, then, a little, soft, round-about figure, which, amid laughter andmerriment, rolls hither and thither lightly and nimbly, with anever-varying physiognomy, which is rather plain than handsome, althoughlit up by a pair of beautiful, kind, dark-blue eyes. Quickly moved tosorrow, quickly excited to joy; good-hearted, flattering, confection-loving, pleased with new and handsome clothes, and with dollsand play; greatly beloved too by brothers and sisters, as well as by allthe servants; the best friend and playfellow, too, of her brother. Suchis little Eva. 

No. 4. --Nos. 3 and 4 ought not properly to come together. Poor Leonorehad a sickly childhood, and this rather, I believe, than nature, hasgiven to her an unsteady and violent temper, and has unhappily sown theseeds of envy towards her more fortunate sisters. She is not deficientin deep feeling, but the understanding is sluggish, and it is extremelydifficult for her to learn anything. All this promises no pleasure;rather the very opposite. The expression of her mouth, even in theuncomfortable time of teething, seemed to speak, "Let me be quiet!" Itis hardly possible that she can be other than plain, but, with God'shelp, I hope to make her good and happy. 

"My beloved, plain child!" say I sometimes to her as I clasp hertenderly in my arms, for I would willingly reconcile her early to herfate. 

No. 5. --But whatever will fate do with the nose of my Petrea? This noseis at present the most remarkable thing about her little person; and ifit were not so large, she really would be a pretty child. We hope, however, that it will moderate itself in her growth. 

Petrea is a little lively girl, with a turn for almost everything, whether good or bad; curious and restless is she, and beyond measurefull of failings; she has a dangerous desire to make herself observed, and to excite an interest. Her activity shows itself in destructiveness;yet she is good-hearted and most generous. In every kind of foolery sheis a most willing ally with Henrik and Eva, whenever they will grant herso much favour; and if these three be heard whispering together, one maybe quite sure that some roguery or other is on foot. There existsalready, however, so much unquiet in her, that I fear her whole lifewill be such; but I will early teach her to turn herself to that whichcan change unrest into rest. 

No. 6. --And now to the pet child of the house--to the youngest, theloveliest, the so-called "little one"--to her who with her white handsputs the sugar into her father's and mother's cup--the coffee withoutthat would not taste good--to her whose little bed is not yet removedfrom the chamber of the parents, and who, every morning, creeping out ofher own bed, lays her bright curly little head on her father's shoulderand sleeps again. 

Could you only see the little two-years-old Gabriele, with her large, serious brown eyes; her refined, somewhat pale, but indescribably lovelycountenance; her bewitching little gestures; you would be just as muchtaken with her as the rest are, --you would find it difficult, as we alldo, not to spoil her. She is a quiet little child, but very unlike hereldest sister. A predominating characteristic of Gabriele is love of thebeautiful; she shows a decided aversion to what is ugly andinconvenient, and as decided a love for what is attractive. A mostwinning little gentility in appearance and manners, has occasioned thebrother and sisters to call her in sport "the little young lady, " or"the little princess. " Henrik is really in love with his little sister, kisses her small white hands with devotion, and in return she loves himwith her whole heart. Towards the others she is very often somewhatungracious; and our good friend the Assessor calls her frequently "thelittle gracious one, " and frequently also "the little ungracious one, "but then he has for her especially so many names; my wish is that in theend she may deserve the surname of "the amiable. "

Peace be with my young ones! There is not one of them which is notpossessed of the material of peculiar virtue and excellence, and yet notalso at the same time of the seed of some dangerous vice, which may ruinthe good growth of God in them. May the endeavours both of their fatherand me be blessed in training these plants of heaven aright! But ah! theeducation of children is no easy thing, and all the many works on thatsubject which I have studied appear to me, whether the fault be in meor in them I cannot tell, but small helps. Ah! I often find no othermeans than to clasp the child tenderly in my arms, and to weep bitterlyover it, or else to kiss it in the fulness of my joy; and it often hasappeared to me that such moments are not without their influence. 

I endeavour as much as possible not to scold. I know how perpetuallyscolding crushes the free spirit and the innocent joyousness ofchildhood; and I sincerely believe that if one will only sedulouslycultivate what is good in character, and make in all instances what isgood visible and attractive, the bad will by degrees fall away ofitself. 

I sing a great deal to my children. They are brought up with songs; forI wished early, as it were, to bathe their souls in harmony. Several ofthem, especially my first-born and Eva, are regular little enthusiastsin music; and every evening, as soon as twilight comes on, the childrenthrong about me, and then I sit down to the piano, and either accompanymyself, or play to little songs which they themselves sing. It is myHenrik's reward, when he has been very good for the whole day, that Ishould sit by his bed, and sing to him till he sleeps. He says that hethen has such beautiful dreams. We often sit and talk for an hourinstead, and I delight myself sincerely in his active and pure soul. When he lays out his great plans for his future life, he endsthus:--"And when I am grown up a man, and have my own house, then, mother, thou shalt come and live with me, and I will keep so many maidsto wait on thee, and thou shalt have so many flowers, and everythingthat thou art fond of, and shalt live just like a queen; only of anevening, when I go to bed, thou shalt sit beside me and sing me tosleep; wilt thou not?" Often too, when in the midst of his plans for thefuture and my songs, he has dropped asleep, I remain sitting still bythe bed with my heart full to overflowing with joy and pride in thisangel. Ernst declares that I spoil him. Ah, perhaps I do, butnevertheless it is a fact that I earnestly endeavour not to do so. Afterall, I can say of every one of my children what a friend of mine said ofhers, that they are tolerably good; that is to say, they are not goodenough for heaven. 

This evening I am alone. Ernst is away at the District-Governor's. Itis my birthday to-day; but I have told no one, because I wished ratherto celebrate it in a quiet communion with my own thoughts. 

How at this moment the long past years come in review before me! I seemyself once more in the house of my parents: in that good, joyful, beloved home! I see myself once more by thy side, my beloved and onlysister, in that large, magnificent house, surrounded by meadows andvillages. How we looked down upon them from high windows, and yetrejoiced that the sun streamed into the most lowly huts just aspleasantly as into our large saloons--everything seemed to us so wellarranged. 

Life then, Cecilia, was joyful and free from care. How we sate and weptover "Des Voeux Téméraires, " and over "Feodor and Maria, "--such wereour cares then. Our life was made up of song, and dance, and merriment, with our so many cheerful neighbours; with the most accomplished of whomwe got up enthusiasms for music and literature. We considered ourselvesto be virtuous, because we loved those who loved us, and because we gaveof our superfluity to those who needed it. Friendship was our passion. We were ready to die for friendship, but towards love we had hearts ofstone. How we jested over our lovers, and thought what fun it would beto act the parts of austere romance-heroines! How unmerciful we were, and--how easily our lovers consoled themselves! Then Ernst Frank came ona visit to us. The rumour of a learned and strong-minded man precededhim, and fixed our regards upon him, because women, whetherwell-informed or not themselves, are attracted by such men. Do you notremember how much he occupied our minds? how his noble person, his calm, self-assured demeanour, his frank, decided, yet always polite behaviourcharmed us at first, and the awed us?

One could say of him, that morally as well as physically he stoodfirmly. His deep mourning dress, together with an expression of quietmanly grief, which at times shaded his countenance, combined to make himinteresting to us; nevertheless, you thought that he looked too stern, and I very soon lost in his presence my accustomed gaiety. Whenever hisdark grave eyes were fixed upon me, I was conscious that they possesseda half-bewitching, half-oppressive power over me; I felt myself happybecause of it, yet at the same time filled with anxiety; my very actionwas constrained, my hands became cold and did everything blunderingly, nor ever did I speak so stupidly as when I observed that he listened. Aunt Lisette gave me one day this maxim: "My dear, remember what I nowtell thee: if a man thinks that thou art a fool, it does not injure theethe least in his opinion; but if he once thinks that thou consideresthim a fool, then art thou lost for ever with him!" With the last it maybe just as it will--I have heard a clever young man declare that itwould operate upon him like salt on fire--however, this is certain, thatthe first part of Aunt Lisette's maxim is correct, since my stupidity inErnst's presence did not injure me at all in his opinion, and when hewas kind and gentle, how inexpressibly agreeable he was!

His influence over me became greater each succeeding day: I seemed tolive continually under his eyes; when they beamed on me in kindness, itwas as if a spring breeze passed through my soul; and if his glance wasgraver than common, I became still, and out of spirits. It seemed to meat times--and it is so even to this very day--that if this clear andwonderfully penetrating glance were only once, and with its full power, riveted upon me, my very heart would cease to beat. Yet after all, I amnot sure whether I loved him. I hardly think I did; for when he wasabsent I then seemed to breathe so freely, yet at the same time, I wouldhave saved his life by the sacrifice of my own. 

In several respects we had no sympathies in common. He had no taste formusic, which I loved passionately; and in reading too our feelings wereso different. He yawned over my favourite romances, nay he evensometimes would laugh when I was at the point of bursting into tears; I, on the contrary, yawned over his useful and learned books, and foundthem more tedious than I could express. The world of imagination inwhich my thoughts delighted to exercise themselves, he valued not in theleast, whilst the burdensome actuality which he always was seeking forin life, had no charm for me. Nevertheless there were many points inwhich we accorded--these especially were questions of morals--andwhenever this was the case, it afforded both of us great pleasure. 

And now came the time, Cecilia, in which you left me; when our fatesseparated themselves, although our hearts did not. 

One day there were many strangers with us; and in the afternoon I playedat shuttlecock with young cousin Emil, to whom we were so kind, and whodeserved our kindness so well. How it happened I cannot tell, but beforelong Ernst took his place, and was my partner in the game. He lookedunusually animated, and I felt myself more at ease with him than common. He threw the shuttlecock excellently, and with a firm hand, but alwayslet it fly a little way beyond me, so that I was obliged to step back afew paces each time to catch it, and thus unconsciously to myself was Idriven, in the merry sport, through a long suite of rooms, till we cameat last to one where we were quite alone, and a long way from thecompany. All at once then Ernst left off his play, and a change wasvisible in his whole countenance. I augured something amiss, and wouldgladly have sprung far, far away, but I felt powerless; and then Ernstspoke so from his heart, so fervently, and with such deep tenderness, that he took my heart at once to himself. I laid my hand, althoughtremblingly, in his, and, almost without knowing what I did, consentedto go through life by his side. 

I had just then passed my nineteenth year; and my beloved parentssanctioned the union of their daughter with a man so respectable and souniversally esteemed, and one, moreover, whom everybody prophesied wouldone day rise to the highest eminences of the state--and Ernst, whosenature it was to accomplish everything rapidly which he undertook, managed it so that in a very short time our marriage was celebrated. 

At the same time some members of my family thought that by this union Ihad descended a step. I thought not; on the contrary, the very reverse. I was of high birth, had several not undistinguished family connexions, and was brought up in a brilliant circle, in all the superficialaccomplishments of the day, amid superfluity and thoughtlessness. He wasa man who had shaped out his own course in life, who, by his own honestendeavours, and through many self-denials, had raised his father's housefrom its depressed condition, and had made the future prospects of hismother and sister comfortable and secure: he was a man self-dependent, upright, and good--yes, GOOD, and that I discover more and more thedeeper knowledge I obtain of his true character, even though the outwardmanner may be somewhat severe--in truth, I feel myself very inferiorbeside him. 

The first year of our marriage we passed, at their desire, in the houseof my parents; and if I could only have been less conscious of hissuperiority, and could only have been more certain that he was satisfiedwith me, nothing would have been wanting to my happiness. Everybodywaited upon me; and perhaps it was on this account that Ernst, incomparison, seemed somewhat cold; I was the petted child of my too kindparents; I was thankless and peevish, and ah, some little of this stillremains! Nevertheless, it was during this very time that, under theinfluence of my husband, the true beauty and reality of life became moreand more perceptible to my soul. Married life and family ties, one'scountry and the world, revealed their true relationships, and their holysignification to my mind. Ernst was my teacher; I looked up to him withlove, but not without fear. 

Many were the projects which we formed in these summer days, and whichfloated brightly before my romantic fancy. Among these was a journey onfoot through the beautiful country west of Sweden, and this was one ofthe favourite schemes of my Ernst. His mother--from whom our littlePetrea has derived her somewhat singular name--was of Norway, and many abeloved thought of her seemed to have interwoven itself with the valleysand mountains, which, as in a wonderfully-beautiful fairy tale, she haddescribed to him in the stories she told. All these recollections are asort of romantic region in Ernst's soul, and thither he betakes himselfwhenever he would refresh his spirit, or lay out something delightfulfor the future. "Next year, " he would then exclaim, "will we take ajourney!" And then we laid out together our route on the map, and Idetermined on the dress which I would wear as his travelling-companionwhen we would go and visit "that sea-engarlanded Norway. " Ah! there sooncame for me other journeys. 

It was during these days also that my first-born saw the light; mybeautiful boy! who so fettered both my love and my thoughts that Ernstgrew almost jealous. How often did I steal out of bed at night in orderto watch him while he slept! He was a lively, restless child, and ittherefore was a peculiar pleasure for me to see him at rest; besideswhich, he was so angelically lovely in sleep! I could have spent wholenights bending over his cradle. 

So far, Cecilia, all went with us as in the romances with which we inour youth nourished heart and soul. But far other times came. In thefirst place, the sad change in the circumstances of my parents, whichoperated so severely on our position in life; and then for me so manychildren--cares without end, grief and sickness! My body and mind mustboth have given way under their burden, had Ernst not been the man heis. 

It suited his character to struggle against the stream; it was a sort ofpleasure to him to combat with it, to meet difficulties, and to overcomethem. With each succeeding year he imposed more business upon himself, and by degrees, through the most resolute industry, he was enabled tobring back prosperity to his house. And then how unwearingly kind he wasto me! How tenderly sustaining in those very moments, when without him Imust have found myself so utterly miserable! How many a sleepless nighthas he passed on my account! How often has he soothed to sleep a sicklychild in his arms! And then, too, every child which came, as it wereonly to multiply his cares, and increase the necessity for his labour, was to him a delight--was received as a gift of God's mercy--and itsbirth made a festival in the house. How my heart has thanked him, andhow has his strength and assurance nerved me!

When little Gabriele was born I was very near death; and it is my firmbelief that, without Ernst's care for me, I must then have parted frommy little ones. During the time of great weakness which succeeded this, my foot scarcely ever touched the ground. I was carried by Ernst himselfwherever I would. He was unwearied in goodness and patience towards thesick mother. Should she not now, that she is again in health, dedicateher life to him? Ah, yes, that should she, and that will she! Alas, werebut my ability as strong as my will!

Do you know one thing, Cecilia, which often occasions me great trouble?It is that I am not a clever housewife; that I can neither take pleasurein all the little cares and details which the well-being of a housereally requires, nor that I have memory for these things; moreespecially is the daily caring for dinner irksome to me. I myself havebut little appetite; and it is so unpleasing to me to go to sleep atnight, and to get up in the morning with my head full of schemes forcooking. By this means, it happens that sometimes my husband's domesticcomforts are not such as he has a right to demand. Hitherto my weakhealth, the necessary care of the children, and our rather narrowcircumstances, have furnished me with sufficient excuses; but these nowwill avail me no longer; my health is again established, and our greaterprosperity furnishes the means for better household management. 

On this account, I now exert myself to perform all my duties well; but, ah! how pleasant it will be when the little Louise is sufficiently grownup, that I may lay part of the housekeeping burdens on her shoulders. Ifancy to myself that she will have peculiar pleasure in all thesethings. 

I am to-day two-and-thirty years old. It seems to me that I have entereda new period of my life: my youth lies behind me, I am advanced intomiddle age, and I well know what both this and my husband have a rightto demand from me. May a new and stronger being awake in me! May Godsupport me, and Ernst be gentle towards his erring wife!

Ernst should have married a more energetic woman. My nervous weaknessmakes my temper irritable, and I am so easily annoyed. His activity ofmind often disturbs me more than it is reasonable or right that itshould; for instance, I get regularly into a state of excitement, if heonly steadfastly fixes his eyes on a wall, or on any other object. Iimmediately begin to fancy that we are going instantly to have a newdoor opened, or some other change brought about. And oh! I have such agreat necessity for rest and quiet!

One change which is about to take place in our house I cannot anticipatewithout uneasiness. It is the arrival of a candidate of Philosophy, Jacob Jacobi, as tutor for my children. He will this summer take my wildboy under his charge, and instruct the sisters in writing, drawing, andarithmetic; and in the autumn conduct my first-born from the maternalhome to a great educational institution. I dread this new member in ourdomestic circle; he may, if he be not amiable, so easily prove soannoying; yet, if he be amiable and good, he will be so heartily welcometo me, especially as assistant in the wearisome writing lessons, withtheir eternal "Henrik, sit still!"--"Hold the pen properly, Louise!"--"Look at the copy, Leonore!"--"Don't forget the points andstrokes, Eva!"--"Little Petrea, don't wipe out the letters with yournose!" Besides this, my first-born begins to have less and less esteemfor my Latin knowledge; and Ernst is sadly discontented with his wildpranks. Jacobi will give him instruction, together with Nils Gabriel, the son of the District-Governor, Stjernhök, a most industrious andremarkably sensible boy, from whose influence on my Henrik I hope formuch good. 

The Candidate is warmly recommended to us by a friend of my husband, theexcellent Bishop B. ; yet, notwithstanding this, his actions at theUniversity did not particularly redound to his honour. Through credulityand folly he has run through a nice little property which had been lefthim by three old aunts, who had brought him up and spoiled him into thebargain. Indeed, his career has hitherto not been quite a correct one. Bishop B. Conceals nothing of all this, but says that he is muchattached to the young man; praises his heart, and his excellent gifts asa preceptor, and prays us to receive him cordially, with all parentaltenderness, into our family. We shall soon see whether he be deservingof such hearty sympathy. For my part, I must confess that my motherlytenderness for him is as yet fast asleep. 

Yet, after all, this inmate does not terrify me half as much as a visitwith which I am shortly threatened. Of course you have heard of the ladyof the late Colonel S. , the beautiful Emilie, my husband's "old flame, "as I call her, out of a little malice for all the vexation herperfections, which are so very opposite to mine, have occasioned me. Shehas been now for several years a widow, has lived long abroad, and nowwill pay us a visit on her return to her native land. Ernst and she havealways kept up the most friendly understanding with each other, althoughshe refused his hand; and it is a noble characteristic of my Ernst, andone which, in his sex, is not often found, that this rejection did notmake him indifferent to the person who gave it. On the contrary, heprofesses the most warm admiration of this Emilie, and has not ceased tocorrespond with her; and I, for I read all their letters, cannot butconfess her extraordinary knowledge and acuteness. But to know all thisnear is what I would indeed be very gladly excused, since I cannot helpthinking that my husband's "old flame" has something of cold-heartednessin her, and my heart has no great inclination to become warm towardsher. 

It strikes ten o'clock. Ernst will not come home before twelve. I shallleave you now, Cecilia, that----shall I confess my secret to you? Youknow that one of my greatest pleasures is the reading of a good novel, but this pleasure I have almost entirely renounced, because whenever Ihave a really interesting one in my hand, I find the most crueldifficulty in laying it down before I reach the last page. That, however, does not answer in my case; and since the time when through thereading of Madame De Stael's Corinne, two dinners, one great wash, andseventeen lesser domestic affairs all came to a stand-still, and mydomestic peace nearly suffered shipwreck, I have made a resolution togive up all novel-reading, at least for the present. But still it is sonecessary for me to have some literary relaxation of the kind, thatsince I read no more novels, I have myself--begun to write one. Yes, Cecilia, my youthful habits will not leave me, even in the midst of theemployments and prosaic cares of every-day life; and the flowers whichin the morning-tide cast their fragrance so sweetly around me, will yetonce more bloom for me in remembrance, and encircle my drooping headwith a refreshing garland. The joyful days which I passed by your side;the impressions and the agreeable scenes--now they seem doubly so--whichmade our youth so beautiful, so lively, and so fresh, --all these I willwork out into one significant picture, before the regular flight ofyears has made them perish from my soul. This employment enlivens andstrengthens me; and if, in an evening, my nervous toothache, which isthe certain result of over-exertion or of vexation, comes on, there isnothing which will dissipate it like the going on with my littleromance. For this very reason, therefore, because this evening my oldenemy has plagued me more than common, I have recourse to my innocentopiate. 

But Ernst shall not find me awake when he returns: this I have promisedhim. Good night, sweet Cecilia!

We will now, in this place, give a little description of theletter-writer--of the mother of Henrik, Louise, Eva, Leonore, Petrea, and Gabriele. 

Beautiful she certainly was not, but nature had given to her a noblegrowth, which was still as fine and delicate as that of a young girl. The features were not regular, but the mouth was fresh and bewitching, the lips of a lovely bright red, the complexion fair, and the clear blueeyes soft and kind. All her actions were graceful: she had beautifulhands--which is something particularly lovely in a lady--yet she was notsolicitous to keep them always in view, and this beautified them stillmore. She dressed with much taste, almost always in light colours; thisand the soft rose scent which she loved, and which always accompaniedher, lent to her whole being a something especially mild and agreeable. One might compare her to moonlight; she moved softly, and her voice waslow and sweet, which, as Shakspeare says, is "an excellent thing inwoman. " Seeing her, as one often might do, reclining on a soft couch, playing with a flower or caressing a child, one could scarcely fancy herthe superintendent of a large household, with all its appertainingwork-people and servants; and beyond this, as the instructor of manychildren: yet love and sense of duty had led her to the performance ofall this, had reconciled her to that which her natural inclinations wereso averse to; nay, by degrees indeed, had made these very cares dear toher--whatever concerned the children lay near to her heart, whilstorder, pleasantness, and peace, regulated the house. The contents of thelinen-press were dear to her; a snow-white tablecloth was her delight;grey linen, dust, and flies, were hated by her, as far as she could hateanything. 

But let us now proceed with our historical sketches. 

We left Elise at her manuscript, by which she became soon so deeplyoccupied that the clock struck twelve unperceived by her; nor was sheaware of the flight of time till a sudden terror thrilled her as sheheard her husband return. To throw her manuscript into her drawer, andquickly undress, had been an easy thing for her, and she was about to doso, when the thought occurred, "I have never hitherto kept myproceedings secret from Ernst, and to-day I will not begin to do so;"and she remained at her writing-table till he entered the room. 

"What! yet up, and writing?" said he, with a displeased glance. "Is itthus you keep your promise, Elise?"

"Pardon me, Ernst, " said she; "I had forgotten myself. "

"And for what?" asked he. "What are you writing? No, let me see! What! anovel, as I live! Now, what use is this?"

"What use is it?" returned Elise. "Ah, to give me pleasure. "

"But people should have sense and reason in their pleasures, " said theJudge. "Now it gives me no pleasure at all that you should sit up atnight ruining your eyes on account of a miserable novel;--if there werea fire here I would burn the rubbish!"

"It would be a great deal better, " returned Elise, mildly, "if you wentto bed and said your prayers piously, rather than thought about such an_auto-da-fé_. How have you amused yourself at the Governor's?"

"You want now to be mixing the cards, " said he. "Look at me, Elise; youare pale; your pulse is excited! Say my prayers, indeed! I have a greatmind to give you a lecture, that I have! Is it reasonable--is itprudent--to sit up at night and become pale and sleepless, in order towrite what is good for nothing? It really makes me quite angry that youcan be so foolish, so childish! It certainly is worth while your goingto baths, sending to the east and to the west to consult physicians, andgiving oneself all kind of trouble to regain your health, when you goand do every possible thing you can in the world to destroy it!"

"Do not be angry, Ernst, " besought Elise; "do not look so stern on meto-night, Ernst; no, not to-night. "

"Yes, indeed!" replied he, but in a tone which had become at oncemilder, "because it is two-and-thirty years to-day since you came intothe world, do you think that you have a right to be absolutelychildish?"

"Put that down to my account, " said Elise, smiling, yet with a tear inher eye. 

"Put it down! put it down!" repeated the Judge. "Yes, I suppose so. People go on putting down neck or nothing till it's a pretty fool'sbusiness. I should like to pack all novels and novel-writers out of theworld together! The world never will be wise till that is done; nor willyou either. In the mean time, however, it is as well that I have foundyou awake, else I must have woke you to prove that you cannot concealfrom me, not even for once, how old you are. Here then is the punishmentfor your bad intention. "

"Ah! Walter Scott's romances!" exclaimed Elise, receiving a set ofvolumes from her husband; "and such a magnificent edition! Thanks!thanks! you good, best Ernst! But you are a beautiful lawgiver; youpromote the very things which you condemn!"

"Promise me, only, " returned he, "not to spend the night in reading orwriting novels. Think only how precious your health is to so many of us!Do you think I should be so provoked, if you were less dear to me? Doyou comprehend that? In a few years, Elise, " added he, "when thechildren are older, and you are stronger, we will turn a summer toreally good account, and take our Norwegian journey. You shall breathethe fresh mountain air, and see the beautiful valleys and the sea, andthat will do you much more good than all the mineral waters in theworld. But come now, let us go and see the children; we will not wakethem, however, although I have brought with me some confectionery fromthe lady hostess, which I can lay on their pillows. There is a rennetfor you. "

The married pair went into the children's room, where the faithful oldFin-woman, Brigitta, lay and guarded, like the dragon, her treasures. The children slept as children sleep. The father stroked the beautifulcurling hair of the boy, but impressed a kiss on the rosy cheek of eachgirl. After this the parents returned to their own chamber. Elise laydown to rest; her husband sate down to his desk, but so as to shade thelight from his wife. The low sounds of a pen moving on paper came to herear as if in sleep. As the clock struck two she awoke, and he was stillwriting. 

Few men required and allowed themselves so little rest as Ernst Frank. 

FOOTNOTES:

[1] A kind of fine curled cake. 

CHAPTER II. 

THE CANDIDATE. 

It was in the twilight. The children were playing at "låna eld"[2] inthe great hall, swarming about in holes and corners, when the suddenstopping of a travelling carriage before the door operated upon the wildlittle flock much as a stream of cold water on a swarm of Lees. TheQueen-bee of the children-swarm, the wise little Louise, sate herselfdown at the window, and four other little heads clustered themselvesabout her, fervent and inquisitive, and almost pushing her away in theirimpatient zeal to get a peep at the arrival. 

It was a gentleman who stepped lightly out of that travelling carriage, but whether young or old, the children could not see; this, however, they saw, that their father came quickly to the door, shook thetraveller by the hand, and conducted him into the house; whilst a verysmall portmanteau was carried after him. Seeing this, the little swarmhastened to their mother; to whom they gave, in all possible degrees oftone, from a low whisper to a loud annunciation, the information thatfor certain "the tutor was come. "

Elise, who had company with her, calmed with a "yes, yes!" and "so, indeed!" the excited state of the children. The Queen-bee composedherself quickly; and with mildly silencing looks seemed to observe thatshe had somewhat forgotten her own dignity, and seated herself quietlyand becomingly among the "grown people, " as one of them, whilst theother children gathered themselves in a little group in one corner ofthe room, whispering and wondering; and whoever had looked at them mighthave seen many a time Petrea's nose peering forth from the little group. 

Judge Frank sent to announce to his wife the arrival of the expectedguest, who would be introduced to her as soon as he had completed histoilet. Presently afterwards another messenger came, desiringcurling-irons for the Candidate. 

"It is a blessed long toilet!" thought Elise, many a time during a fullhour which elapsed in waiting; and it must be confessed that her nosemore than once during the hour took the same direction as Petrea's. 

At last the steps of two gentlemen were heard on the hall floor, andthere advanced through the parlour door a well-shod foot and a handsomeleg, belonging to a well-formed though somewhat compressed figure, whichcarried gracefully a twenty-year-old head, of a jovial, comelyappearance, with the hair dressed after the newest mode. It was theCandidate. He cast a glance first at his foot, and then at the lady ofthe house, whom he approached with the most unconstrainedself-possession, exhibiting the while a row of dazzlingly white teeth. Odour of _eau de Portugal_ diffused itself though the room. 

The Judge, who followed, and whose bearing and simple demeanourcontrasted with those of the new guest, introduced the Candidate Jacobi. Various unimportant polite speeches were made by everybody, and thenthey all took their seats. The children then came forward, and madetheir bows and curtseys. Henrik eyed his future preceptor with a joyous, confiding glance; the Queen-bee curtseyed very becomingly, and then madeseveral steps backward as the young man seemed inclined to take thegreat liberty of kissing her; whilst Petrea turned up her nose with aninquisitive saucy air. The Candidate took the kindest notice of themall; shook all of them by the hand; inquired all their names; looked athimself in the glass, and arranged his curls. 

"Whom have we here?" thought Elise, with secret anxiety. "He is a fop--aperfect fop! How in all the world could Bishop B. Select him as teacherfor my poor little children? He will think much more of looking athimself in the glass than of looking after them. The fine breast-pinthat he is wearing is of false stones. He laughs to show his whiteteeth. An actual fop--a fool, perhaps! There, now, he looks at himselfagain in the glass!"

Elise sought to catch her husband's eye, but he evidently avoidedmeeting hers; yet something of discontent, and something of trouble too, showed itself in his manner. The Candidate, on the contrary, appearednot in the slightest degree troubled, but reclined perfectly at his easein an armchair, and cast searching glances on three ladies, whoevidently were strangers in the company. The eldest of these, who kepton sewing incessantly, appeared to be upwards of forty, and wasdistinguished by a remarkably quiet, bright, and friendly aspect. JudgeFrank and she talked much together. The other two appeared neither ofthem to have attained her twentieth year: the one was pale and fair; theother a pretty brunette; both of them were agreeable, and looked goodand happy. These ladies were introduced to Jacobi as Miss EvelinaBerndes and her adopted daughters, Laura and Karin. Laura had always oneof the children on her knee, and it was upon her that his eyes were mostparticularly fixed. It was indeed a very pretty picture, which wasformed by Laura, with the lovely little Gabriele on her knee, decoratedwith the flowers, bracelets, necklace, in short, with all the prettythings that just before had ornamented herself. 

The conversation soon became general, and was remarkably easy, and theCandidate had an opportunity of taking his part well and interestinglyin it whilst speaking of certain distinguished men in the Universityfrom which he was just come. Elise mentioned one celebrated man whom shehad a great desire to see, upon which Jacobi said he had lately made alittle sketch of him, which, on her expressing a wish to see, hehastened to fetch. 

He returned with a portfolio containing many drawings and pictures;partly portraits, and partly landscapes, from his own pencil; they werenot deficient in talent, and afforded pleasure. First one portrait wasrecognised and then another, and at last the Candidate himself. Thechildren were quite enchanted, and thronged with enthusiasm round thetable. The Candidate placed some of them on his knee, and seemedparticularly observant of their pleasure, and it was not long, therefore, before they appeared entirely to forget that he was only anew acquaintance--all at least excepting Louise, who held herself rather_fičre_, and "the baby, " which was quite ungracious towards him. 

Above all the pictures which the portfolio contained, were the childrenmost affected and enchanted by one in sepia, which represented a girlkneeling before a rose-bush, from which she was gathering roses, whilsta lyre lay against a gravestone near her. 

"Oh, how sweet! how divinely beautiful!" exclaimed they. Petrea seemedas if she actually could not remove her eyes from the charming picture, which the Candidate himself also seemed to regard with a fatherlyaffection, and which was the crown of his little collection. 

It was the custom at the Franks, that every evening, as soon as theclock had struck eight, the little herd of children, conducted by theQueen-bee, withdrew to their bed-chamber, which had once occasioned thewakeful Petrea to say that night was the worst thing God had ever made:for which remark she received a reproving glance from the Queen-bee, accompanied by the maxim, "that people should not talk in that way. "

In order, however, to celebrate the present day, which was a remarkableone, the children were permitted to take supper with their parents, andeven to sit up as late as they did. The prospect of this indulgence, theCandidate, the pictures, all combined to elevate the spirits of thechildren in no ordinary degree; so much so indeed that Petrea had theboldness, whilst they were regaling on roast chicken, to propose to theCandidate that the picture of the girl and the rose-bush should be putup for a prize on the breaking of a merrythought between them;promising, that if she had the good fortune to win it, she would give asa recompense a picture of her own composition, which should representsome scene in a temple. The Queen-bee appeared scandalised at hersister's proposal, and shook her little wise head at her. 

The mother also violently opposed Petrea's proposition; and she, poorgirl, became scarlet, and deeply abashed, before the reproving glanceswhich were cast upon her; yet the Candidate was good-natured enough, after the first astonishment was over, to yield in the most cheerfulmanner to Petrea's proposal, and zealously to declare that the affairshould be managed just as she would. He accordingly set himself, with anappearance of great accuracy and solemnity, to measure the length ofboth limbs of the merrythought, and then counted three; the mother allthis time hoping within herself that he would so manage it that hehimself should retain the head--but no! the head remained in Petrea'shand, and she uttered a loud cry of joy. After supper, the parents againopposed what had taken place; but the Candidate was so cheerful and sodetermined that it should remain as it was settled already, that Petrea, the happiest of mortals, ventured to carry out the girl and rose-bush;yet, she did not miss a motherly warning by the way, which mingled sometears with her joy. The Candidate had, in the mean time, on account ofhis kindness towards the children, and his good-nature towards Petrea, made a favourable impression on the parents. 

"Who knows, " said Elise to her husband, "but that he may turn out verywell. He has, probably, his faults, but he has his good qualities too;there is something really very agreeable in his voice and countenance;but he must leave off that habit of looking at himself so continually inthe glass. "

"I feel assured that he must have worth, " said the Judge, "from therecommendation of my friend B. This vanity, and these foppish habits ofhis, we shall soon know how to get rid of; the man himself isunquestionably good; and, dear Elise, be kind to him, and manage so thathe shall feel at home with us. "

The children also, in their place of rest, made their observations onthe Candidate. 

"I think he is much handsomer than my father, " said little Petrea. 

"I think, " said the Queen-bee, in a tone of correction, "that nobody canbe more perfect than my father. "

"That is true, excepting mamma, " exclaimed Eva, out of her little bed. 

"Ah, " said Petrea, "I like him so much; he has given me that lovelypicture. Do you know what I shall call that girl? I shall call her Rosa;and I'll tell you a long story about her. There was once upon atime----"

All the sisters listened eagerly, for Petrea could relate better andprettier stories than any of them. It was therefore said amongthemselves that Petrea was very clever; but as the Queen-bee wasdesirous that Petrea should not build much on this opinion, she nowlistened to her history without bestowing upon it one token of applause, although it was found to be sufficiently interesting to keep the wholelittle auditorium awake till midnight. 

"What will become of my preserves?" thought Elise, one day as sheremarked the quantity which vanished from the plate of the Candidate;but when that same evening she saw the little Gabriele merrily, andwithout reproof, pulling about his curls; when she saw him join thechildren at their play, and make every game which they playedinstructive to them; when she saw him armed with a great paper weapon, which he called his sword, and deal about blows to those who countedfalse, thereby exciting greater activity of mind as well as more mirth, she thought to herself, "he may eat just as much preserves as he likes;I will take care that he never goes short of them. "

If, however, the Candidate rose higher in the regards of one party, there still was another with which his actions did not place him in thebest point of view. Brigitta, to whom the care of some few things in thehouse was confided, began to look troubled, and out of sorts. Forseveral days, whatever her cause of annoyance might be, she preservedsilence, till one evening, when expanding the nostrils of her littlesnubby nose, she thus addressed her mistress:

"The gracious lady must be so good as to give out to the cook just twiceas much coffee as usual; because if things are to go on in this way, wecannot do with less. He, the master there, empties the little coffee-pothimself every morning! Never, in all my life, have I seen such acoffee-bibber!"

The following evening came a new announcement of trouble. 

"Now it is not alone a coffee-bibber, " said poor Brigitta, with a gloomycountenance and wide-staring eyes, "but a calf it is, and a devourer ofrusks! What do you think, gracious lady, but the rusk-basket, which Ifilled only yesterday, is to-day as good as empty--only two rusks andtwo or three crumbs remaining! Then for cream! Why every morning heempties the jug!"

"Ah, it is very good, " said Elise, mildly, yet evasively, "that heenjoys things so much. "

"And only look, in heaven's name!" lamented poor Brigitta another day, "he is also quite a sugar-rat! Why, dear, gracious lady, he must put inat least twenty pieces of sugar into one cup of coffee, or he nevercould empty a sugar-basin as he does! I must beg you to give mo the keyof the chest, that I may fill it again. God grant that all this may havea good ending!"

Brigitta could venture to say much, for she had grown old in the house;had carried Elise as a child in her arms; and from affection to her, hadfollowed her when she left her father's house: besides this, she was amost excellent guardian for the children; but as now these complaints ofhers were too frequently repeated, Elise said to her seriously: "DearBrigitta, let him eat and drink as much as he likes, without anyobservation: I would willingly allow him a pound of sugar and coffee aday, if he only became, as I hope he may, a good friend and preceptorfor the children. "

Brigitta walked away quite provoked, and grumbling to herself: "Well, well!" said she, "old Brita can be silent, yes, that she can;--well, well! we shall see what will be the end of it. Sugar and rusks he eats, and salt-fish he can't eat!--well, well!"

All this time Jacobi was passing his days in peace, little dreaming ofthe clouds which were gathering over his head, or of his appellations ofcoffee-bibber, calf, rusk-devourer, and sugar-rat; and with eachsucceeding day it became more evident that Elise's hopes of him werewell grounded. He developed more and more a good and amiabledisposition, and the most remarkable talents as teacher. The childrenbecame attached to him with the most intense affection; nor did theirobedience and reverence for him as preceptor prevent them, in theirfreer hours, from playing him all kind of little pranks. Petrea wasespecially rich in such inventions; and he was too kind, too muchdelighted with their pleasure, not willingly to assist, or even at timesallow himself to be the butt of their jokes. 

Breakfast, which for the elder members of the family was commonly servedat eleven o'clock, furnished the children with an excellent opportunityfor their amusement. The Candidate was particularly fond of eggs, andtherefore, when under a bulky-looking napkin he expected to find some, and laid hasty hands on it, he not unfrequently discovered, instead ofeggs, balls of worsted, playing-balls, and other such indigestiblearticles; on which discovery of his, a stifled laughter would commonlybe heard at the door, and a cluster of children's heads be visible, which he in pretended anger assailed with the false eggs, and whichquickly withdrew amid peals of laughter. Often too, when, according toold Swedish usage, he would take a glass of spirits, he found pure waterinstead of Cognac in his mouth; and the little advocates of temperancewere always near enough to enjoy his astonishment, although sufficientlydistant, also, that not one drop of the shower which was then sent atthem should reach them, though it made them leap high enough fordelight. And really it was wonderful how often these little surprisescould be repeated, and how the Candidate let himself so constantly besurprised. But he was too much occupied by his own thoughts (thethoughts of course of a student of philosophy!) in order to be on hisguard against the tricks of these young merry-andrews. One day----

But before we proceed further we must observe, that although thetoilette of the Candidate seemed externally to be always so wellsupplied, yet still it was, in fact, in but a very indifferentcondition. No wonder, therefore, was it, that though his hat outwardlywas always well brushed, and was apparently in good order, yet that ithad within a sadly tattered lining. 

One day, therefore, as the Candidate had laid his hat in a corner of theroom, and was sitting near the sofa in a very earnest conversation, Henrik, Petrea, and Eva gathered themselves about that symbol of freedomwith the most suspicious airs and gestures of conspiracy. Nobody paidany attention to them, when after awhile the Candidate rose to leave theroom, and going through the door would have put on his hat--but, behold, a very singular revolution had taken place within it, and a mass of tinsoldiers, stones, matches, and heaven knows what besides, came rattlingdown upon his head; and even one little chimney-sweeper fell astride onhis nose. Nothing could compare with the immeasurable delight of thechildren at the astonishment of the Candidate, and the comic grimacesand head-shakings with which he received this their not very politejest. 

No wonder was it, therefore, that the children loved the Candidate sowell. 

The little Queen-bee, however, who more and more began to reckon herselfas one of the grown people, and only very rarely took part in theconspiracies against the Candidate, shook her head at this prank of herbrother and sisters, and looked out a new piece of dark silk from herdrawer (Louise was a hoarder by nature), possessed herself secretly ofthe Candidate's hat, and with some little help from her mother, had thenher secret pleasure also, and could laugh in her own sleeve at hisamazement when he discovered a bran new lining in his hat. 

"Our little Queen-bee is a sensible little girl, " said the Judge, well-pleased, to his wife, who had made him a third in this plot; andafter that day she was called both by father and mother "our sensiblelittle Queen-bee. "

Scarcely had Jacobi been three weeks in the family of the Franks, before Elise felt herself disposed to give him a new title, that ofDisputer-General, so great was the ability he discovered to dispute onevery subject, from human free-will to rules for cookery; nay, even forthe eating of eggs. 

On this subject Elise wrote thus to her sister Cecilia:--"But howeverpolite and agreeable the Candidate may be generally, still he is just aswearisome and obstinate in disputation; and as there is nobody in thehouse that makes any pretension to rival him in certain subtleties ofargument, he is in great danger of considering himself a miracle ofmetaphysical light, which he is not, I am persuaded, by any means, sincehe has much more skill in rending down than in building up, inperplexing than in making clear. Ernst is no friend of metaphysicalhair-splitting, and when Jacobi begins to doubt the most perceptible andmost certain things--'what is perceptible, what is certain?' theCandidate will inquire--he grows impatient, shrugs his shoulders, goesto his writing-table, and leaves me to combat it out, although, for mypart, I would gladly have nothing to do with it. Should I, however, forawhile carry on the contest boldly, the scholar then will overwhelm mewith learned words and arguments, and then I too flee, and leave him_maître du champ de bataille_. He believes then that I am convinced, atleast of his power, which yet, however, is not the case; and if fortunedo not bestow upon me a powerful ally against him, he may imagine so. Nevertheless, I am not without some curiosity to hear a system which hehas promised to explain to me this evening, and according to whicheverything in the world ought to be so good and consistent. Thesesubjects have always an interest for me, and remind me of the time whenyou and I, Cecilia, like two butterflies, went fluttering over theearth, pausing about its flowers, and building up for ourselves prettytheories on the origin of life and all things. Since then I had almostforgotten them. Think only if the mythology of our youth should presentitself again in the system of the Candidate!"

Here Elise was interrupted by the entrance of the troop of children. 

"Might we borrow Gabriele?" "Mother, lend us Gabriele!" besought severalcoaxing little voices. 

"Gabriele, wilt thou not come and play with us? Oh, yes, certainly thouwilt!" and with these words Petrea held up a gingerbread heart, winchso operated on the heart of the little one, that she yielded to thewishes of brother and sisters. 

"Ah, but you must take great care of her, my little angel!" said themother; "Louise, dear, take her under your charge; look after her, andsee that no harm befal her!"

"Yes, of course, " said Louise, with a consequential countenance; and thejubilant children carried off the borrowed treasure, and quickly wastheir sport in full operation in the hall. 

Elise took her work, and the Candidate, with a look of great importance, seated himself before her, in order to initiate her into the mysteriesof his system. Just, however, at the moment when he had opened his mouthto begin, after having hemmed a few times, a shrill little barking, andthe words "your most devoted servant, " were heard at the door, and aperson entered curtseying with an air of conscious worth, said with alittle poodle in her arms--a person with whom we will have the honour tocommence a new chapter. 

FOOTNOTES:

[2] Borrowing fire; a Swedish child's play. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE CHAMBERLAIN'S LADY. 

Where is there not _haute volée_? Above the heavenly hosts are outspreadthe wings of cherubim and seraphim; and in the poultry-yards of earththe geese exalt their wings high over the other lesser featheredcreatures. It belongs to the ordination of the world. 

The Chamberlain's lady, Gunilla W. , belonged incontestibly to thehighest _haute volée_ in the excellent city of X. , where we have had thehonour of making the acquaintance of the family of the Franks. She wasthe sister of Governor Stjernhök, and inhabited the third story of thehouse of which the Franks inhabited the second, and Evelina Berndes thefirst. 

This lady had spent her youth at court, and passed many a day ofwearisome constraint, and many a night in making those clothes whichwere to conceal from the world how poor Miss Gunilla was; yet neithernight nor day did she complain either of constraint or of poverty, forshe possessed under a plain exterior a strong and quiet spirit. 

An old aunt used to preach to her thus: "Eat, that thou mayst grow fat;if thou art fat, thou wilt grow handsome; and if thou art handsome, thouwilt get married. "

Miss Gunilla, who never ate much, and who did not eat one mouthful morefor this warning, grew neither fat nor handsome; yet on account of herexcellent disposition she was beloved by every one, and especially by ayoung rich Chamberlain of the court, who, through his own good qualitiesand excellent heart, won her affections, and thus Miss Gunilla becameMistress. After this, in the circle of her friends she was accustomed tobe called Mrs. Gunilla; which freedom we also shall sometimes take withher here. 

Shortly after her marriage, and in consequence of cold, her husbandbecame a sad invalid. For thirty years she lived separated from theworld, a faithful and lonely attendant of the sick man; and what shebore and what she endured the world knew not, for she endured all insilence. For several years her husband could not bear the light; shelearned, therefore, to work in darkness, and thus made a largeembroidered carpet. "Into this carpet, " said she, as she once spokeaccidentally of herself, "have I worked many tears. "

One of the many hypochondriacal fancies of her husband was, that he wasabout to fall into a yawning abyss, and only could believe himself safeso long as he held the hand of his wife. Thus for one month afteranother she sate by his couch. 

At length the grave opened for him; and thanking his wife for thehappiness he had enjoyed in the house of sickness on earth, he sank torest, in full belief of a land of restoration beyond. When he was gone, it seemed to her as if she were as useless in the world as an oldalmanack; but here also again her soul raised itself under its burden, and she regulated her life with peace and decision. In course of yearsshe grew more cheerful, and the originality of her talents anddisposition which nature had given to her, and which, in her solitude, had undisturbedly followed their own bent, brought a freshness with theminto social life, into which she entered at first rather from resolutionthan from feeling at ease in it. 

"The Lord ordains all things for the best;" that had always been, andstill remained, the firm anchorage of her soul. But it was not thisalone which gave to her the peace and gentleness which announcedthemselves in her voice, and diffused a true grace over her aged andnot handsome countenance; they had yet another foundation: for even asthe sunken sun throws the loveliest light upon the earth which it hasleft, so does the holy memory of a beloved but departed human being onthe remaining solitary friend. Mrs. Gunilla herself lived in such aremembrance: she knew it not, but after the death of her husband thedark pictures of his suffering vanished more and more, and his own form, purified by patience and suffering, rose continually higher in its nobleglorification; it beamed into her soul, and her soul became brightenedthereby. Seldom mentioned she the name of her husband; but when she didso, it was like a breath of summer air in voice and countenance. 

She collected good people about her, and loved to promote theirhappiness; and whenever there was a young couple whose narrowcircumstances, or whose fears for the future, filled them with anxiety, or a young but indigent man who was about to fall into debt anddifficulty, Mrs. Gunilla was ever at hand, although in most cases behindothers. She had nevertheless her faults; and these, as we proceed, weshall become acquainted with. 

We now hastily sketch her portrait the size of life. Age between fiftyand sixty; figure tall, stiff, well-made, not too thin--beside JeremiasMuntor she might be called stout--complexion, pale yellow; the nose andchin coming together, the mouth fallen in; the eyes grey and small, forehead smooth, and agreeably shaded by silver hair; the hands stillhandsome, and between the thumb and delicate tip of the forefinger apinch of snuff, which was commonly held in certain perspective towardsthe nose, whilst with an elbow resting on the arm of sofa or easy-chairshe gave little lectures, or read aloud, for it was one of herweaknesses to suppose that she knew everything. 

During her long hermit-life she had been accustomed wholly to neglecther toilet, and this neglect she found it difficult afterwards toovercome; and her old silk gown, from which the wadding peeped out frommany a hole, especially at the elbows; her often-mended collar, and herdrooping cap, the ribbons of which were flecked with many a stain ofsnuff, were always a trouble to Elise's love of order and purity. Notwithstanding all this, there was a certain air about Mrs. Gunillawhich carried off all; and with her character, rank, property, andconsideration, she was _haute volée_, spite of torn gown andsnuff-beflecked ribbons, and had great influence among the best societyof the city. 

She considered herself somewhat related to Elise, was very fond of her, and used very often to impart to her opinions on education (N. B. --Mrs. Gunilla never had children), on which account many people in the cityaccused Elise of weakness towards the _haute volée_, and thepostmistress Bask and the general-shopkeeper Suur considered it quite asmuch a crime as a failing. 

There was in Mrs. Gunilla's voice, manners, and bearing, a somethingvery imposing; her curtsey was usually very stately and low, and thisbrings us again to her entrance into Elise's room. Elise, the moment sheentered, quickly rose and welcomed her, introducing Jacobi at the sametime. 

At the first glance Jacobi uttered an exclamation of joyful surprise, approached her with an appearance of the greatest cordiality, seized herhand, which he kissed reverentially, and felicitated himself on thehappiness of seeing her again. 

The little eyes of the Chamberlain's lady twinkled, and she exclaimed, "Oh, heavens! my heart's dearest! Nay, that is very pleasant! He, he, he, he!"

"How!" exclaimed Elise, in astonishment, "Mr. Jacobi, do youknow----Aunt W. , do you know Mr. Jacobi?"

The Candidate appeared about to give an explanation of the acquaintance, but this Mrs. Gunilla, with a faint crimson overspreading the paleyellow cheek, and a twitch of the eyebrow, prevented, and with a quickvoice she said, "We once lived in the same house. "

She then desired that the conversation which her entrance hadinterrupted, and which appeared to have been very important, mightproceed. "At least, " added she, with a penetrating glance on Elise andthe Candidate, "if I should not disturb you. "

"Certainly not!"

The Candidate needed only the sixteenth of a hint to rush armed withfull fervour into the mysteries of his system. Mrs. Gunilla took up apacket of old gold thread, which she set herself to unravel, whilst theCandidate coughed and prepared himself. 

CHAPTER IV. 

MONADS AND NOMADS. 

"All beings, " commenced the Candidate, "have, as their most intrinsicfoundation and substance, a simple unity, a soul, a--in one word, amonad. "

"A--a what?" asked the Chamberlain's lady, fixing her eyes upon him. 

"A monad, or a simple unity, " continued he. "The monads have a commonresemblance in substance one with another; but in respect of qualities, of power, and size, they are substantially unlike. There are the monadsof people; there are human monads, animal monads, vegetable monads; inshort, the world is full of monads--they compose the world----"

"Heart's dearest!" interrupted the old lady, in a tone of displeasure, "I don't understand one word of all this! What stuff it is! What aremonads?--fill the world, do they?--I see no monads!"

"But you see me, dear lady, " said Jacobi, "and yourself. You areyourself a monad. "

"I a monad!" exclaimed she, in disgust. 

"Yes, certainly, " replied he, "your Honour, just the same as any otherliving creature----"

"But, " interrupted she, "I must tell you, dear friend, that I am neithera monad nor a creature, but a human being--a sinful human being it istrue--but one that God, in any case, created in his own image. "

"Yes, certainly, certainly, " acceded the Candidate. "I acknowledge aprincipal monad, from which all other monads emanate----"

"What!" exclaimed she, "is our Lord God to be a monad also?"

"He may be so designated, " said the Candidate, "on account of oneness, and also to preserve uniformity as to name. For the rest, I believe thatthe monads, from the beginning, are gifted with a self-sustainingstrength, through which they are generated into the corporeal world;that is to say, take a bodily shape, live, act, nay even strive--that isto say, would remove themselves from one body into another without theimmediate influence of the Principal Monad. The monads are in perpetualmotion--perpetual change, and always place and arrange themselvesaccording to their power and will. If, now, we regard the world fromthis point of view, it presents itself to us in the clearest and mostexcellent manner. In all spheres of life we see how the principal monadassembles all the subject monads around itself as organs and members. Thus are nations and states, arts and sciences, fashioned; thus everyman creates his own world, and governs it according to his ability; forthere is no such thing as free-will, as people commonly imagine, but themonad in man directs what he shall become, and what in regard to----"

"That I don't believe, " interrupted Mrs. Gunilla; "since, if my soul, ormonad, as you would call it, had guided me according to its pleasure, itwould have led me to do many wicked things; and if our Lord God had notchastised me, and in his mercy directed me to something that wasgood--be so good as to let alone my cotton-balls--it would have gone madenough with my nomadic soul--that I can tell you. "

"But, your Honour, " said Jacobi, "I don't deny at all the influence of aprincipal monad; on the contrary, I acknowledge that; and it isprecisely this influence upon your monad which----"

"And I assert, " exclaimed she, warming, and again interrupting him, "that we should do nothing that was right if you could establish yournomadic government, instead of the government of our Lord God. What goodcould I get from your nomads?"

"Monads, " said the Candidate, correcting her. 

"And supposing your monads, " continued Mrs. Gunilla, "do keep in suchperpetual movement, and do arrange themselves so properly, what goodwill that do me in moments of temptation and need? It is far wiser andbetter that I say and believe that our Lord God will guide us accordingto his wisdom and good, than if I should believe that a heap of yournomads----"

"Monads, monads!" exclaimed the Candidate. 

"Monads or nomads, " answered angrily Mrs. Gunilla, "it is all one--be sogood as to let my cotton alone, I want it myself--your nomads may be asmagnificent and as mighty as they please, and they may governthemselves, and may live and strive according to their own wisdom; yet Icannot see how the world, for all that, can be in the least the moreregular, or even one little grain the more pleasant, to look at. And whyare things so bad here? Why, precisely for this very reason, because yougood people fancy yourselves such powerful monads, and think so much ofyour own strength, without being willing to know that you are altogetherpoor sinners, who ought to beseech our Lord God to govern their poornomadic souls, in order that they might become a little better. It isprecisely such nomadic notions as these that we have to thank for allkind of rapscallion pranks, for all uproars and broken windows. If youhad only less of nomads, and more of sensible men in you, one shouldlive in better peace on the earth. "

The Candidate was quite confounded; he had never been used to argumentlike this, and stared at Mrs. Gunilla with open mouth; whilst littlePyrrhus, excited by the warmth of his mistress, leapt upon the table, and barking shrilly seemed disposed to spring at the Candidate's nose. All this appeared so comic, that Elise could no longer keep back themerriment which she had felt during the former part of the dispute, andJacobi himself accompanied her hearty laugh. Mrs. Gunilla, however, looked very bitter; and the Candidate, nothing daunted, began again. 

"But, in the name of all the world, " said he, "your Honour will notunderstand me: we speak only of a mode of observing the world--a mode bywhich its phenomena can be clearly expounded. Monadology, rightlyunderstood, does not oppose the ideas of the Christian religion, as Iwill demonstrate immediately. Objective revelation proves to us exactlythat the subject-objective and object-subjective, which----"

"Ah!" said Mrs. Gunilla, throwing herself back, "talk what nonsense youwill for me, I know what I know. Nomads may be just what they please forme: but I call a man, a man; I call a cat, a cat, and a flower, aflower; and our Lord God remains to me our Lord God, and no nomad!"

"Monad, monad!" cried the Candidate, in a sort of half-comic despair;"and as for that word, philosophy has as good a right as any otherscience to make use of certain words to express certain ideas. "

During the last several minutes suspicious movements had been heard atthe parlour door, the cause of which now became evident; the childrenhad stolen in behind the Candidate, and now cast beseeching glancestowards their mother that she should let all go on unobserved. Petreaand Eva stole in first, carrying between them a heavy pincushion, weighted with lead, five pounds in weight at least. The Candidate wasstanding; and at the very moment when he was doing his best to defendthe rights of philosophy, the leaden cushion was dropped down into hiscoat-pocket. A motion backwards was perceptible through his whole body, and his coat was tightly pulled down behind. A powerful twitching showeditself at the corners of his mouth, and a certain stammering might benoticed in his speech, although he stood perfectly still, and appearedto observe nothing; while the little rascals, who had expected aterrible explosion from their well-laid train, stole off to a distance;but oh, wonder! the Candidate stood stock-still, and seemed not at allaware that anything was going on in his coat-laps. 

All this while, however, there was in him such a powerful inclination tolaugh that he hastened to relate an anecdote which should give him theopportunity of doing so. And whether it was the nomads of Mrs. Gunillawhich diverted him from his system, or the visit of the little herd ofnomads to his pockets, true it is there was an end of his philosophy forthat evening. Beyond this, he appeared now to wish by cheerful discourseto entertain Mrs. Gunilla, in which he perfectly succeeded; and so mildand indulgent was he towards her, that Elise began to question withherself whether Mrs. Gunilla's mode of argument were not the best andthe most successful. 

The children stood not far off, and observed all the actions of Jacobi. "If he goes out, he will feel the cushion, " said they. "He will fetch abook! Now he comes--ah!"

The Candidate really went out for a book from his room, but he steppedwith the most stoical repose, though with a miserably backward-pulledcoat, through the astonished troop of children, and left the room. 

When he returned, the coat sate quite correctly; the cushion evidentlywas not there. The astonishment of the children rose to the highestpitch, and there was no end to their conjectures. The Queen-bee imaginedthat there must be a hole in his pocket, through which the pincushionhad fallen on the stairs. Petrea, in whose suggestion the jokeoriginated, was quite dismayed about the fate of the cushion. 

Never once did it enter into the innocent heads of the children that theCandidate had done all this in order to turn their intended surprise onhim into a surprise on themselves. 

"How came you to be acquainted with Mrs. Gunilla W. ?" asked Elise fromJacobi when the lady was gone. 

"When I was studying in----, " replied he, "I routed a small room on theground-floor of the same house where she lived. As I at that time was invery narrow circumstances, I had my dinner from an eating-house near, where all was supplied at the lowest price; but it often was sointolerably bad, that I was obliged to send it back untasted, andendeavour, by a walk in the fresh air instead, to appease my hunger. Ihad lived thus for some time, and was, as may be imagined, become meagreenough, when Mrs. W. , with whom I was not personally acquainted, proposed to me, through her housekeeper, that she should provide me witha dinner at the same low charge as the eating-house. I was astonished, but extremely delighted, and thankfully accepted the proposal. I soondiscovered, however, that she wished in this way to become my benefactorwithout its appearing so, and without my thanks being necessary. Fromthis day I lived in actual plenty. But her goodness did not end here. During a severely cold winter, in which I went out in a very thingreat-coat, I received quite unexpectedly one trimmed with fur. Fromwhom it came I could not for some time discover, till chance gave me aclue which led me to the Chamberlain's lady. But could I thank her forit? No; she became regularly angry and scolded me if I spoke of thegratitude which I felt and always shall feel for her kindness. "

Tears filled the eyes of Jacobi as he told this, and both Elise's eyesand those of her husband beamed with delight at this relation. 

"It is, " said Judge Prank, "a proof how much goodness there is in theworld, although at a superficial glance one is so disposed to doubt it. That which is bad usually noises itself abroad, is echoed back fromside to side, and newspapers and social circles find so much to sayabout it; whilst that which is good likes best to go--likesunshine--quietly through the world. "

CHAPTER V. 

DISAGREEABLE NEWS. 

The "skirmish"--as Mrs. Gunilla called the little strift she had withthe Candidate, about monads and nomads--appeared to have displeasedneither of them, but rather, on the contrary, to have excited in them adesire for others of the same kind; and as Elise, who had no greatinclination to spend her evenings alone with him, used frequently toinvite Mrs. Gunilla to drink tea with them, it was not long before sheand the Candidate were again in full disputation together. If theAssessor happened also to come in, there was a terrible noise. TheCandidate screamed, and leapt about almost beside himself, but wasfairly out-talked, because his voice was weak, and because Mrs. Gunillaand the Assessor, who between them two selves never were agreed, leaguedthemselves nevertheless against him. Jacobi, notwithstanding this, hadoften the right side of an argument, and bore his overthrow with thebest temper in the world. Perhaps he might have lost his courage, however, as well as his voice in this unequal contest--he himselfdeclared he should--had he not suddenly abandoned the field. He vanishedalmost entirely from the little evening circle. 

"What has become of our Candidate?" sometimes asked Mrs. Gunilla. "Ishall be much surprised if his monad or nomad has not carried him off tothe land of the nomads! He, he, he, he!"

Judge Frank and wife also began to question with some anxiety, "What hasbecome of our Candidate?"

Our Candidate belonged to that class of persons who easily win manyfriends. His cheerful easy temper, his talents, and good socialqualifications, made him much beloved and sought after, especially insmaller circles. It was here, therefore, as it had been in theUniversity--he was drawn into a jovial little company of good fellows, where, in a variety of ways, they could amuse themselves, and where thecheerful spirit and talents of Jacobi were highly prized. He allowedhimself, partly out of good-nature and partly out of his own folly, tobe led on by them, and to take part in a variety of pranks, which, through the influence of some members of the Club, went on from littleto more, and our Candidate found himself, before he was aware of what hewas about, drawn into a regular carouse--all which operated mostdisadvantageously upon his affairs--kept him out late at night, and onlypermitted him to rise late in the morning, and then with headache anddisinclination to business. 

There was, of course, no lack of good friends to bring these tidings toJudge Frank. He was angry, and Elise was seriously distressed, for shehad begun to like Jacobi, and had hoped for so much from his connexionwith the children. 

"It won't do, it won't do, " grumbled Judge Frank. "There shall very soonbe an end to this! A pretty story indeed! I shall tell him--I, ifhe----But, my sweet friend, you yourself are to blame in this affair;you should concern yourself a little about him; you are so _fičre_ anddistant to him; and what amusement do you provide for him here of anevening? The little quarrels between Mrs. Gunilla and Munter cannot beparticularly amusing to him, especially when he is always out-talked bythem. It would be a thousand times better for the young man if you wouldallow him to read aloud to you; yes, if it were romances, or whatever inthe world you would. You should stimulate his talent for music; it wouldgive yourself pleasure, and between whiles you could talk a little soundreason with him, instead of disputing about things which neither he noryou understand! If you had only begun in that way at first, he wouldperhaps never have been such a swashbuckler as he is, and now to getorder and good manners back into the house one must have scenes. I'llnot allow such goings on!--he shall hear about it to-morrow morning!I'll give that pretty youth something which he shall remember!"

"Ah!" said Elise, "don't be too severe, Ernst! Jacobi is good; and ifyou talk seriously yet kindly to him, I am persuaded it will have thebest effect. "

Judge Frank made no reply, but walked up and down the room in very illhumour. 

"Would you like to hear some news of your neighbour thepasquinade-writer?" asked Assessor Munter, who just then entered with adark countenance. "He is sick, sick to death of a gallopingconsumption--he will not write any more pasquinades. "

"Who looks after his little girl?" asked Elise; "I see her sometimesrunning about the street like a wild cat. "

"Yes, there's a pretty prospect for her, " snorted out the Assessor. "There is a person in the house--a person they call her, she ought to becalled reptile, or rather devil--who is said to look after thehousekeeping, but robs him, and ruins that child. Would you believe it?she and two tall churls of sons that she has about her amuse themselveswith terrifying that little girl by dressing themselves up whimsically, and acting the goblins in the twilight. It is more than a miracle ifthey do not drive her mad!"

"Poor wretch!" exclaimed Judge Frank, in rage and abhorrence. "Goodheavens! how much destruction of character there is, how much crime, which the arm of the law cannot reach! And that child's father, can hebear that it is so treated?"

"He is wholly governed by that creature--that woman, " said Munter;"besides, sick in bed as he now is, he knows but little of what goes onin the house. "

"And if he die, " asked the Judge, "is there nobody who will look afterthat girl? Has he a relation or friend?"

"Nobody in this world, " returned Jeremias. "I have inquiredparticularly. The bird in the wood is not more defenceless than thatchild. Poverty there will be in the house; and what little there is, that monster of a housekeeper will soon run through. "

"What can one do?" asked the Judge, in real anxiety. "Do you knowanything, Munter, that one could do?"

"Nothing as yet, " returned he; "at present things must take their owncourse. I counsel nobody to interfere; for he is possessed of the woman, and she is possessed of the devil: and as for the girl, he will have herconstantly with him, and lets her give way to all her petulances. Butthis cannot long endure. In a month, perhaps, he will be dead; and hewho sees the falling sparrow will, without doubt, take care of the poorchild. At present nobody can save her from the hands of these harpies. Now, good night! But I could not help coming to tell you this littlehistory, because it lay burning at my heart; and people have the verypolite custom of throwing their burdens upon others, in order to lightenthemselves. Adieu!"

The Judge was very much disturbed this evening. "What he had just heardweighed heavily on his heart. 

"It is singular, " said he, "how often Mr. N. 's course and mine haveclashed. He has really talent, but bad moral character; on that accountI have opposed his endeavours to get into office, and thus operatedagainst his success. It was natural that he should become my enemy, andI never troubled myself about it! but now I wish--the unhappy man, howmiserably he lies there! and that poor, poor child! Ström, " said he, calling to his servant, "is the Candidate at home? No? and it is nearlyeleven! The thousand! To-morrow he shall find out where he is at home!"

CHAPTER VI. 

HERO-DEEDS. 

On the following morning, as Judge Frank drew aside his window-curtains, the sun--the sun, so powerful in its beams and its silence--shone intohis chamber, lighting it with its glorious splendour. Those sunbeamswent directly to his heart. 

"Dear Elise, " said he, when his wife was awake, "I have a great deal todo to-day. Perhaps it would be better if you would speak with Jacobi, and give him his lecture. Ladies, in such circumstances, have moreinfluence on men than we men can have. Besides this, what can be bentmust not be broken. I--in short, I fancy you will manage the affairbest. It is so beautiful to-day! Could you not take the children a longwalk? It would do both them and you good, and upon the way you wouldhave an excellent opportunity for an explanation. Should this be of noavail, then I will--but I would gladly avoid being angry with him; onehas things enough to vex one without that. "

The Judge was not the only person in the house whom the sun inspiredwith thoughts of rambling. The Candidate had promised the children onsome "very fine day" to take them to a wood, where there were plenty ofhazel-bushes, and where they would gather a rich harvest of nuts. Children have an incomparable memory for all such promises; and thelittle Franks thought that no day could by any possibility be morebeautiful or more suitable for a great expedition than the present, andtherefore, as soon as they discovered that the Candidate and theirparents thought the same, their joy rose actually as high as the roof. Brigitta had not hands enough for Petrea and Eva, so did they skip aboutwhen she wished to dress them. 

Immediately after noon the procession set forth; Henrik and theQueen-bee marched first, next came Eva and Leonore, between whom wasPetrea, each one carrying a little basket containing a piece of cake, asprovision for their journey. Behind the column of children came themother, and near her the Candidate, drawing a little wicker-carriage, inwhich sate little Gabriele, looking gravely about with her large browneyes. 

"Little Africa"--so the children called their little dark-eyed neighbourfrom the Cape--stood at her door as the little Franks tripped forth fromtheirs. Petrea, with an irresistible desire to make her acquaintance, rushed across the street and offered her the piece of cake which she hadin her basket. The little wild creature snatched the piece of cake withviolence, showed her row of white teeth, and vanished in the doorway, whilst Elise seized Petrea's hand, in order to keep her restless spiritin check. 

As soon as they had passed the gate of the city the children werepermitted full freedom, and they were not much more composed in theirdemeanour than a set of young calves turned out for the first time intoa green meadow. We must even acknowledge that the little Queen-bee fellinto a few excesses, such as jumping over ditches where they were thebroadest, and clapping her hands and shouting to frighten awayphlegmatical crows. It was not long, however, before she gave up theseoutbreaks, and turned her mind to a much sedater course; and then, whenever a stiff-necked millifolium or gaudy hip came in her way, shecarefully broke it off, and preserved it in her apron, for the use ofthe family. Henrik ran back every now and then to the wicker-carriage, in order to kiss "the baby, " and give her the very least flowers hecould find. Petrea often stumbled and fell, but always sprang upquickly, and then unaffrightedly continued her leaping and springing. 

The Candidate also, full of joyous animal spirits, began to sing aloud, in a fine tenor voice, the song, "Seats of the Vikings! Groves old andhoary, " in which the children soon joined their descant, whilst theymarched in time to the song. Elise, who gave herself up to the fullenjoyment of the beautiful day and the universal delight, had neitherinclination nor wish to interrupt this by any disagreeable explanation;she thought to herself that she would defer it a while. 

"Nay, only look, only look, sisters! Henrik, come here!" exclaimedlittle Petrea, beckoning with the hand, leaping, and almost out ofherself for delight, whilst she looked through the trellis-work of atall handsome gate into pleasure-grounds which were laid out in theold-fashioned manner, and ornamented with clipped trees. Many littleheads soon looked with great curiosity through the trellis-gate; theyseemed to see Paradise within it; and then up came the Candidate, notlike a threatening cherub with a flaming sword, but a good angel, whoopened the door of this paradise to the enraptured children. Thissurprise had been prepared for them by Elise and the Candidate, who hadobtained permission from the Dowager Countess S * * * to take thechildren on their way to the nut-wood through her park. 

Here the children found endless subject for admiration and inquiry, norcould either the Candidate or their mother answer all their questions. Before long the hearts of the children were moved at sight of a littleleaden Cupid, who stood weeping near a dry fountain. 

"Why does he cry?" asked they. 

"Probably because the water is all gone, " answered the Candidate, smiling. 

Presently again they were enchanted by sight of a Chinese temple, whichto their fancy contained all the magnificence in the world--instead of, as was the case, a quantity of fowls; then they were filled withastonishment at trees in the form of pyramids--they never had seenanything so wonderful, so beautiful! But the most wonderful thing wasyet to come. 

They reached a gloomy part of the grounds. Melancholy sounds, incoherent, yet pleasurable, became audible, accompanied by anuninterrupted splashing of water. The children walked slower and closertogether, in a state of excited expectation, and a kind of shudderingcuriosity. The melancholy tones and the falling water became more andmore distinct, as they found themselves inclosed in a thick fir-wood;presently, however, an opening to the right showed itself, and thenthickly wreathed with a wild growth of plants and heavily-leaved trees, the vault of a grotto revealed itself, within which, and in thedistance, stood a large white figure, with aged head, long beard, crooked back, and goat's legs. To his lips he held a pandean pipe, fromwhich the extraordinary sounds appeared to proceed. Little waterfallsleapt here and there from the rocks around, and then collectedthemselves at the foot of the statue in a large basin, in which thefigure seemed, with a dreamy countenance, to contemplate himself and theleaf-garlanded entrance of the grotto. 

The Candidate informed them that this was the Wood-god Pan; but whatfurther information he gave respecting the faith of the ancients in thisdeity of nature was listened to by nobody but the Queen-bee, who, however, shook her wise head over the want of wisdom in the Grecians whocould believe on such a god; and by Elise, who loved to discover in thebelief of antiquity a God of nature, which makes itself felt also in ourdays, but in a truer and, as we think, a diviner sense. 

The exhibition in the grotto had produced its effect upon all thespectators, great as well as small; but the brain of the little Petreaseemed quite intoxicated, not to say crazed by it. The Wood-god, withhis music, his half-animal, half-human figure, although only of gypsum, and, as the Candidate declared, the offspring only of a dim fancy, aswell as that it was without life or actuality, still remained to herimagination a living existence, as real as wonderful. She could seenothing, think of nothing, but the Wood-god; and the foreboding of a newand wonderful world filled her soul with a delicious terror. 

In the mean time the Candidate conducted Elise, by a path which woundamong alders and birches, up the mountain in which the grotto was. Whenthey reached the top, all was sunny and cheerful; and behold upon amound was set out, so pleasantly in the sunshine, a little collation ofberries and fruit. It was the Candidate, who had great pleasure in beingthe kind-hearted host on such occasions, who had provided this littlesurprise for Elise and the children; and never, indeed, was a surprisemore welcome or more joyous. It is the most thankful thing in the worldto give pleasure to children; and, moreover, the goodwill of the motheris always obtained thereby. 

The Candidate spread his cloak upon a green slope under a hedge ofroses, on which Elise's favourite flowers were still blooming, as a seatfor herself and "the baby, " which now, lifted out of thewicker-carriage, had its green silk bonnet taken off, and its goldenlocks bathed in sunshine. He chose out the best fruit for her and hermother; and then seating himself on the grass near her, played with her, and drove away the flies from her and her mother with a spray of roses, whilst the other children ran about at a distance, enjoying with all thezest of childhood, gooseberries and freedom. The trees soughed in thesoft south wind, whilst the melodious sighs of the Wood-god, and thesplash of the water, mingled gently with the whispering leaves. It was adelicious time, and its soft influence stole into the soul of Elise. Thesun, the scent of the roses, the song of the wood and of the water, andthe Syrinx, the beautiful scene before her, the happy children--allthese called up suddenly into her breast that summer of the heart, inwhich all sentiments, all thoughts, are like beautiful flowers, andwhich makes life seem so light and so lovely: she conceived a friendshipfor that young man who had occasioned it, and whose good heart beamedforth from his eyes, which at one moment were fixed on the blue heavens, and then on her own soft blue eyes, with an expression of devotion and acertain pure earnestness, which she had never observed in him before. Elise felt that she could now undertake the explanation with him; shefelt that she could talk with him openly and warmly as a sister, andthat the truth would flow from her lips, without wounding him or givinghim pain. 

Scarcely, however, had she with cordial, though with tremulous voice, began to speak, when an uneasy movement among the children interruptedher. Some looked in the hedges, some ran about under the trees, and thename "Petrea! Petrea!" was repeated in every variety of tone. The motherlooked uneasily around, and the Candidate sprang up to see what wasamiss. It was nothing uncommon for Petrea to separate herself from therest of the children, and occupied by her own little thoughts, to lagbehind; on that account, therefore, nobody had at first troubledthemselves because she was not with them at the collation, for theysaid, "she will soon come. " Afterwards, Elise and the Candidate were toomuch occupied by their own thoughts; and the children said as usual, "she'll soon come. " But when she did not come, they began to seek forher, and Elise and the Candidate came to their assistance. They ran backto the grotto; they sought and called, but all in vain--Petrea wasnowhere to be found! and uneasiness very soon changed itself into actualanxiety. 

We will now ourselves go in quest of Petrea. So enchanted was she withthe Wood-god and his music, that no sooner had she, with the others, begun to climb the hill, than she turned back to the grotto, and there, transported by its wonderful world, she was suddenly possessed by adesire to acquaint her father and Brigitta, with her having seen theWood-god. Resolve and action are much more one with children than withwomen. To be the first who should carry to the father the importanttidings, "Father, I have seen the Wood-god!" was a temptation too strongfor Petrea's ambition and craving for sympathy. 

She had heard them say that they should rest on the hill; and as herorgan of locality was as feeble as her imagination was powerful, shenever doubted for a moment of being able to run home and back beforethey were aware even of her absence. As for the rest, to confess thetruth, she thought nothing at all about it; but with a loudly-beatingheart, and the words, "Oh, father! we have seen the Wood-god!" on herlips, she made a spring, and rushed forward on the wings of fancy asfast as her little legs would carry her in a direction exactly theopposite of that which led homeward, and which at the same time removedher from the grotto; never thinking, the poor Petrea! that in this worldthere are many ways. Before long, however, she found it necessary tostand still, in order to rest herself: it was all so beautiful aroundher; delicious odours breathed from the wild flowers; the birds sang;the heaven was cloudless; and here, where no Cupids nor Chinese templesdazzled her thoughts, the very remembrance of the god Pan vanished fromher soul, and instead of it a thought, or more properly speaking asentiment, took possession of it--a holy and beautiful sentiment, whichthe mother had early instilled into the hearts of her children. Petreasaw herself solitary, yet at the same time she felt that she was not so;in the deliciousness of the air, in the beauty of nature, she perceivedthe presence of a good spirit, which she had been taught to call Father;and filled, as her heart seemed to be, by a sense of his goodness andaffection, which appeared never to have been so sensibly impressed uponher mind as then, her heart felt as if it must dissolve itself in loveand happiness. She sank down on the grass, and seemed to be on the wayto heaven. But, ah! the way thither is not so easy; and these heavenlyforetastes remain only a short time in the souls of children, as well asof grown people. 

That which brought Petrea from her heavenly journey back to the earthagain was a squirrel, which sprang directly across her path, and senther forth immediately in chase of it. To catch such game, and to carryit home, would be indeed in the highest degree a memorable action. "Whatwould Henrik and my sisters say? What would all the city say? Perhaps itwill get into the newspapers!--perhaps the king may get to hear ofit!"--thought Petrea, whilst, out of herself with ambition andearnestness, she pursued the little squirrel over stock and stone. 

Her frock was torn; her hands and feet were bruised; but that was a merenothing! She felt it not, more particularly--oh, height of felicity!--asshe fell down, and at that same moment grasped in her trembling handsher little prey. Petrea cried for delight, and shouted to her mother andsisters, who--could not hear her. 

"Oh, thou little most loveable creature!" said Petrea, endeavouring atthe same time to kiss her little captive, in return for which that mostloveable little creature bit her by the chin. Surprised, and sorelysmarting from the pain, Petrea began to cry; yet for all that would notlet go the squirrel, although the blood flowed from the wound. Petrearan forward, wondering that she never came to the great trellis-gate, through which she knew she must pass in order to reach home. Whilst shethus wondered with herself, and ran, and struggled with her littleuntractable prisoner, she saw a gentleman coming towards her. It neveronce occurred to her that this could be any other than her father, andalmost transported for joy, she exclaimed, "Father, I have seen theWood-god!"

Greatly astonished to hear himself thus parentally addressed, the youngman looked up from the book in which he read, gazed at Petrea, smiled, and replied, "Nay, my child, he is gone in that direction, " pointingwith his finger towards that quarter whence Petrea had come. Imaginingat once that he meant the Candidate, Petrea replied with anxiety and aquick foreboding that she was on a wrong track, "Oh, no, it is not he!"and then turned suddenly back again. 

She abandoned now all thoughts of running home, and was only desirous offinding those whom she had so thoughtlessly left. She ran back, therefore, with all her speed, the way she had come, till she reachedwhere two roads branched off, and there unfortunately taking the wrongone, came into a wild region, where she soon perceived how entirelyconfused she had become. She no longer knew which way to go, and indespair threw herself into the grass and wept. All her ambition wasgone; she let the squirrel run away, and gave herself up to her owncomfortless feelings. She thought now of the uneasiness and anxiety ofher mother, and wept all the more at the thought of her own folly. But, however, consoling thoughts, before long, chased away these despondingones. She dried her eyes with her dress--she had lost herpocket-handkerchief--and looking around her she saw a quantity of fineraspberries growing in a cleft of the hill. "Raspberries!" exclaimedshe, "my mother's favourite berries!" And now we may see our littlePetrea scrambling up the cliff with all her might, in order to gatherthe lovely fruit. She thought that with a bouquet of raspberries in herhand, she could throw herself at the feet of her mother, and pray forforgiveness. So thought she, and tore up the raspberry bushes, and newcourage and new hope revived the while in her breast. If, thought she, she clambered only a little way higher, could she not discover whereher home was? should she not see her mother, father, sisters, nay, thewhole world? Certainly. What a bright idea it was!

With one hand full of raspberries, the other assisted her to climb; but, ah! first one foot slipped on the dry smooth grass, and then the other. The left hand could no longer sustain the whole weight of her body; theright hand would not let go the raspberries. A moment of anguish, aviolent effort, and then Petrea rolled down the cliff into a thicket ofbushes and nettles, where for the present we will leave her, in order tolook after the others. 

The anxiety of the mother is not to be described, as after a whole hourspent with Jacobi and Henrik (the little Queen-bee watched over theother children near Pan's grotto), in seeking and calling for Petrea, all was in vain. There were many ponds in the park, and they could notconceal from themselves that it was possible she might have fallen intoone. It was a most horrible idea for Elise, and sent an anguish likedeath into her heart, as she thought of returning in the evening to herhusband with one child missing, and that one of his favourites--missingthrough her own negligence. Death itself seemed to her preferable. 

Breathless, and pale as a corpse, she wandered about, and more than oncewas near sinking to the earth. In vain the Candidate besought her tospare herself; to keep herself quiet, and leave all to him. In vain! Sheheard him not; and restless and unhappy, she sought the child herself. Jacobi was afraid to leave her long alone, and kept wandering near her;whilst Henrik ran into other parts of the park, seeking about andcalling. 

It was full two hours of fruitless search after the lost one, when theCandidate had again joined the despairing mother, that at the very samemoment their glances both fell suddenly on the same object--it wasPetrea! She lay in a thicket at the foot of the hill; drops of bloodwere visible on her face and dress, and a horrible necklace--a yellowspangled snake!--glittered in the sun around her neck. She laymotionless, and appeared as if sleeping. The mother uttered a faint cryof terror, and would have thrown herself upon her, had not the Candidatewithheld her. 

"For heaven's sake, " said he, fervently, and pale as death, "be still;nothing perhaps is amiss; but it is the poisonous snake of ourwoods--the aspic! An incautious movement, and both you and Petrea may belost! No, you must not; your life is too precious--but I--promise me tobe still, and----"

Elise was scarcely conscious of what she did. "Away! away!" she said, and strove to put Jacobi aside with her weak hands; she herself wouldhave gone, but her knees supported her no longer--she staggered, andfell to the ground. 

In that same moment the Candidate was beside Petrea, and seizing thesnake by the neck with as much boldness as dexterity, he slung it to adistance. By this motion awakened, Petrea shuddered, opened hersleep-drunken eyes, and looking around her, exclaimed, "Ah, ah, father!I have seen the Wood-god!"

"God bless thee and thy Wood-god!" cried the delighted Candidate, rejoicing over this indisputable token of life and health; and thenclasping her to his breast he bore her to her mother. But the motherneither heard nor saw anything; she lay in a deep swoon, and was firstrecalled to consciousness by Henrik's kisses and tears. For a while shelooked about her with anguishful and bewildered looks. 

"Is she dead?" whispered she. 

"No, no! she lives--she is unhurt!" returned Jacobi, who had thrownhimself on his knees beside her; whilst the little Petrea, kneelinglikewise, and holding forth the bunch of raspberries, sobbed aloud, andbesought her, "Forgive! oh, mamma, forgive me!"

Light returned to the eyes of the mother; she started up, and, with acry of inexpressible joy, clasped the recovered child to her breast. 

"God be praised and blessed!" cried she, raising her folded hands toheaven; and then silently giving her hand to Jacobi, she looked at himwith tears, which expressed what was beyond the power of words. 

"Thank God! thank God!" said Jacobi, with deep emotion, pressing Elise'shand to his lips and to his breast. He felt himself happy beyond words. 

They now hastened to remove from the dangerous neighbourhood of thesnake, after Jacobi and Henrik had given up, at the desire of themother, the probably ineffectual design of seeking out the poisonous butblameless animal, and killing it on the spot. 

All this time the little Queen-bee had sate alone by the grotto, endeavouring to comfort her sisters, whilst she herself wept bittertears over Petrea, whom she never expected to see again: on that veryaccount her joy was all the greater and louder, when she saw her carriedin the arms of the Candidate; and no sooner did she learn from hermother how he had rescued her from the fangs of death, than she threwher arms round his neck in inexpressible gratitude. All this Petreaheard and saw with the astonishment and curiosity of one who meets withsomething unheard of; and then, thus seeing the distress which herinconsiderateness had occasioned, she herself melted into suchdespairing tears, that her mother was obliged to console and cheer her. Of her fall into the thicket Petrea knew no more than that her head hadfelt confused, that she could not get up again, had slept, and thendreamed of the Wood-god. 

In the mean time it had become so late, that the harvest of nuts was notto be thought of, and as much on the mother's as on Petrea's account, itwas necessary to hasten home. The other children probably would havegrieved more over the unfortunate pleasure journey, had they not felt anextraordinary desire to relate at home the remarkable occurrences of theday. New difficulties arose on the return. Petrea--who, besides that shewas weary, was bruised and sadly dirtied by her fall--could not walk, and therefore it was determined that she must ride in the littlecarriage, while the Candidate carried Gabriele. When, however, thelittle one saw that Jacobi was without gloves, she would neither allowhim to carry her nor to take hold of her, and set up the most pitiablecry. Spite of her crying, however, he took up the "little mother, " as hecalled her; and what neither his nor the mother's persuasion couldeffect, was brought about by Henrik's leaps and springs, andcaresses--she was diverted: the tears remained standing half-way downher cheeks, in the dimples which were suddenly made by her heartylaughter. 

Petrea, after the paroxysm of sorrow and penitence was in measureabated, began to think herself and her adventures particularlyinteresting, and sate in her little carriage a very important personage, surrounded by her sisters, who could not sufficiently listen to herrelation, and who emulated each other in drawing the little equipage. As for Jacobi, he drew the carriage; he carried the baby, which soonfell asleep on his shoulder; he sang songs; told stories, in order toentertain Elise, who remained a long time pale and depressed, from thedanger which had threatened her, and the anxiety which she had endured. 

At length they reached home. They poured forth their adventures:Brigitta shed tears over her "Little angel-sweet Mamselle Petrea;" andthe father, from the impulse of his feelings, pressed Jacobi to hisheart. 

After Petrea's scratches and bruises had been washed with Riga-balsam, the mother permitted the children to have a supper of pancakes andraspberry-cream, in order to console them for the unfortunateexpedition. Hereupon the children danced for joy about the table; andPetrea, who, on account of her misfortunes, received a Benjamin'sportion, regarded it as certain that they always eat such cream inheaven, wherefore she proposed that it should be called "Angels' food. "This proposition met with the highest approbation, and from this day"Angels' food" became a well-known dish in the Frank family. 

Yet Petrea wept some bitter tears on the breast of her father over thegentle admonition she received from him; but spite of tears, she soonslept sweetly in his arms. 

And the lecture of the Candidate?

"Stay at home with us this evening, " said Elise to him, with a kind, beseeching glance. 

The Candidate stayed with them. 

CHAPTER VII. 

BREAKERS. 

"Stay at home with us this evening, " prayed Elise the next day, and forseveral other days, and the Candidate stayed. 

Never before had he seen Elise so kind, so cordial towards him; neverbefore had she shown him so much attention as now; and this attention, this cordiality from a lady who, in her intercourse with men, wasgenerally only polite and indifferent, flattered his vanity, at the sametime that it penetrated his good heart. All occasion for explanationand lectures vanished, for the Candidate had entirely renounced hisdissipated friends and companions, and now nobody could talk moreedifying than he on the subject. He agreed so cordially with Elise, thatthe fleeting champagne of the orgies foamed only for the moment, leavingnothing but emptiness and flatness behind. "For once, nay, for a fewtimes, " he was of opinion, "such excesses might be harmless, perhapseven refreshing; but often repeated--ah! that would be prejudicial, anddemoralising in the highest degree!"

All this seemed to the little Queen-bee, who had heard it, remarkablywell expressed. 

Nobody seemed now better pleased at home than Jacobi; he felt himself sowell in the regular course of life which he led, and there seemed somuch that was genuine and fresh in the occupations and pleasures ofthose quiet days at home. 

In the mean time, the fresh life of the Candidate began to develop itsweak side. Gratitude had, in the first instance, warmed Elise's hearttowards him, and then his own real amiability made it so easy to gratifythe wish of her husband respecting her behaviour towards him, and thusit soon happened that her intercourse with Jacobi enlivened her ownexistence. In many respects their tastes were similar, especially intheir love of music and polite literature, whilst his youthfulenthusiasm gave to their common occupations a higher life and interest. Discussion lost all character of dispute, and became merely an agreeableinterchange of thought: it was no longer now of any importance to him tobe always right; there was a peculiar kind of pleasure in giving up hisopinion to hers. He knew more out of books than she did, but she knewmore of life--the mother of books, than he; and on this account she, onher part, proceeded as the older and guiding friend. He felt himselfhappy from the influence and gentle guidance of an agreeable woman, andbecame more and more devoted to her from his soul. 

Still there was a quietness and a charm about this connexion that madehim never forbode danger in it. He loved to be treated as a child byElise, and he gave, therefore, free play to his naturallyunsophisticated feelings. Her gentle reproofs were a sort of luxury tohim; he had a delight in sinning, in order to deserve them; and then, whilst listening to them, how gladly would he have pressed her dress, or her white and beautiful hand to his lips; there was even a sort ofpainfully agreeable sensation to him in his not daring to do so. Whenever she approached, and he heard her light footsteps, or when heperceived the soft rose-odour which always accompanied her, it seemed tobecome infinitely warm around his heart. But that which, above all therest, was the strongest bond between Jacobi and Elise, was hersufferings. Whenever nervous pain, or domestic unpleasantness, depressedher spirits; when she bore the not unfrequent ill-humour of her husbandwith patience, the heart of Jacobi melted in tenderness towards her, andhe did all that lay in his power to amuse and divert her thoughts, andeven to anticipate her slightest wishes. She could not be insensible toall this--perhaps also it flattered her vanity to observe the power shehad over this young man--perhaps even she might willingly deceiveherself as to the nature of his sentiments, because she would notdisturb the connexion which lent a sweet charm to her life. 

"He loves the children and their mother, " said she; "he is their friendand mine! May he only continue such!"

And certain it is that the children had never been better conducted, never had learned better, never been happier, than they were now, whilstJacobi himself developed a more and more happy ability to teach andguide. 

Adverse fate barricades the shore which the vessel is on the point ofapproaching, by dangerous breakers, and interrupts the bond between thedearest friends, which is just about to be cemented eternally. It wasthis fate which, at the very time when Jacobi was exhibiting hischaracter in the fairest point of view, occasioned the Judge to exhibitthe darker side of his. 

Judge Frank belonged to that class of persons who are always in the besthumour the more they have to do, and the more active is the life theylead. And just now there had occurred a pause in an undertaking for thecountry's good, which lay much at the Judge's heart; and delay, occasioned by a number of little circumstances which he willingly would, but could not, dissipate, put him into an ill humour. At home he wasoften exacting and quarrelsome, particularly towards his wife; thusplacing himself, beside the kind and cheerful Jacobi, in a verydisadvantageous light. He felt this, and was displeased with himself, and displeased with his wife too, because she seemed to pay but littleregard to his grumbling; occupying herself instead by hersinging-practice with Jacobi. This very singing-practice, too, of whichhe himself had been the occasion, began to appear to him too much of athing. He seemed to think scolding more agreeable for the ear; in fact, he was in that edifying state of mind which excites and angers itselfabout that which a few good words alone would easily put an end to. 

The reading, likewise, which at first he had so zealously recommended, became now to him another cause of vexation. Precisely at this very timehe wished to have more of the society of his wife of an evening, andwished her to take more interest in his undertakings and his annoyances;but whenever he came into the parlour he found them reading, or occupiedby music; and if these ceased at his entrance, there was still anevident damp on the spirits of all--the entertainment could not proceed;and if, on the contrary, he said, "Go on with your music (or reading), go on, " and they did so, he was still dissatisfied; and if he did notvery soon return to his own room, he walked up and down like asnowstorm. 

It was precisely this fate, of which we have just now spoken, whichmanaged it so, that one evening as Judge Frank, the prey of ill humour, was walking up and down the room, a letter was put into his hand, atsight of which he burst into an exclamation of joyful surprise. "Nay, that is indeed delightful, " said he, in a very cheerful voice, as soonas he had read the letter. "Elise! Mrs. S----, Emelie, is here. She isonly just this evening arrived; I must hasten to her directly. SweetElise, will you not come with me? It would be polite. "

"Oh, it is so late!" said Elise, much less pleased than her husband;"and I fancy it rains. Cannot you go alone to-night? to-morrow morning Iwill----"

"Well, well, then, " said the Judge, suddenly breaking off; and somewhatoffended at her refusal, hastening away. 

It was rather late when he returned from his visit, but he was in highspirits. "She is a most interesting lady, " said he; "my best Elise, itcertainly would give you great pleasure to know her intimately. "

"Ah! I question that, " thought Elise. 

"She talks, " continued he, "of locating herself here in the city. I hopewe shall decide her to do so. "

"I hope not, " thought Elise. 

"We will do all that we possibly can, " said he, "to make her residencehere agreeable. I have invited her to dinner to-morrow. "

"To-morrow!" exclaimed Elise, half terrified. 

"Yes, to-morrow, " answered her husband, peremptorily. "I told her thatto-morrow morning you would pay her a visit, but she insists on firstcoming to you. You need not trouble yourself much about the dinnerto-morrow. Emelie will not expect much from an improvised dinner. At allevents, it may be just as good as there is any need for, if people willonly give themselves a little trouble. I hope Emelie will often come andtake up with our simple way of living. "

Elise went to rest that night with a depressed heart, and with anindefinite but most unpleasant feeling, thought of the next day'sdinner, and then dreamed that her husband's "old flame" had set thehouse on fire, and robbed the whole family of its shelter. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

THE IMPROVISED DINNER. 

You housewives who know the important meaning of a roast, who know thedifficulties which sometimes overwhelm you, especially when you mustimprovise a dinner; you who know that notwithstanding all inspiration, both of understanding and inclination--yet inspiration is necessary toall improvisation--one cannot inspire either chickens or heath-cocks tocome flying into the important dish, when the crust is ready to put onit;--you housewives who have spent many a long morning in thoughts ofcookery and in anguish, without daring to pray the Lord for help, although continually tempted to do so; you can sympathise in Elise'stroubles, as she, on the morning of this important dinner, saw thefinger of the clock approach twelve without having been able toimprovise a roast. 

It is true that an improvised dinner might do without a roast: this wegrant as a general law; but in the case of this particular dinner, wedeny it altogether, in proof of which we might easily give thearrangement of the whole dinner, did we not flatter ourselves that weare believed on our bare word. Beyond this, the Judge was a declaredlover of a roast, and of all kinds of animal food, which circumstanceincreased still more Elise's difficulty; and as if to make difficultystill greater, Elise, on this very day, was remarkably in want ofassistants, for her husband had sent out, on his own business, thoseservants who, on extraordinary occasions, Elise found very good help. The cook, too, was confused to-day in a remarkable manner; the childrenwere in a fermentation; Eva and Leonore quarrelled; Petrea tore a holein her new frock; Henrik broke a water-bottle and six glasses; the babycried and screamed for nothing; the clock was on the stroke of twelve, and no roast would come!

Elise was just on the point of falling into despair over roasts, cooks, the dinner, the child, nay, over the whole world, when the door opened, and the words, "your most devoted servant, " were spoken out shrilly andjoyously, and the widow of the Court Chamberlain--to Elise she seemed anangel of light from heaven--stood in the room, with her beaming friendlycountenance, took out of her monstrous reticule one chicken afteranother, and laid them upon the table, fixing her eye on Elise, andmaking with each one a little curtsey to her, upon which she laughedheartily. Enraptured by the sight, Elise embraced first the ladyChamberlain, then the chickens, with which she hastily sprang into thekitchen, and returning, poured forth her thanks and all her cares tothis friend in need. 

"Well, well, patience!" exhorted Mrs. Gunilla, kindly and full ofcordial sympathy, and somewhat touched by Elise's communication. "Best-beloved, one should not take it so much to heart--such troubles asthese soon pass away--yes, indeed, they soon pass. Now listen, and I'lltell you something, 'when need is greatest, help is nearest. ' Yes, yes, remember that! As for the chickens, I saw them in a peasant's cart, as Icrossed the market, and as I knew what was going on here, I lost no timein buying them and bringing them, under my cloak, and I have nearly runmyself out of breath, in my haste. He, he, he! And so now I must go, for the dear lady must dress herself nicely, and so must I too. Adieu, dear Elise; I wish you the happiness of getting both the dinner and theyoung folks in order. He, he, he!"

Gunilla went, dinner-time came, and with it the guests and the Judge, who had spent the whole morning in the business of his own office, outof the house. 

Emelie, the Colonel's widow, was elegant in the highest degree; lookedhandsome, and distinguished, and almost outdid herself in politeness;but still Elise, spite even of herself, felt stiff and stupid by theside of her husband's "old flame. " Beyond this, she had now a greatdistraction. 

"Oh, that the chickens may be nicely done!" was the incessantmaster-thought of Elise's soul; and it prevailed over the Pope, theChurch of St. Peter's, Thorwaldsen and Pasta, and over every subject onwhich they talked. 

The hour of dinner was come, and yet the dinner kept the companywaiting. The Judge, who expected from everybody else the punctualitywhich he himself practised, began to suffer from what Elise called his"dinner-fever, " and threw uneasy glances first at the dining-room door, and then at his wife, whose situation, it must be confessed, was not avery enviable one. She endeavoured to look quite calm, but oftenwhispered something to the little Louise, which sent her veryimportantly in and out of the room. Elise's entertainment, both thatpart which was audible, and that which was inaudible, was probably atthe moment carried on something after the following fashion:

"It must be inexpressibly pleasant to know, " (ah, how unbearably long itis!) "it must be very interesting. " (I wish Ernst would fire again onhis "old flame, " and forget dinner. ) "Yes, indeed, that was veryremarkable. " (Now are those chickens not roasted!) "Poor Spain!" (Now, thank goodness, dinner is ready at last--if the chickens are only welldone!)

And now to dinner! A word which brightens all countenances, and enlivensall tempers. Elise began to esteem the Colonel's widow very highly, because she kept up such a lively conversation, and she hoped this woulddivert attention from any of the dishes which were not particularlysuccessful. The Judge was a polite and agreeable host, and he wasparticularly fond of dinner-time, when he would willingly have made allmen partakers of his good appetite, good humour, and even of his goodeating--N. B. If this really was good--but if the contrary happened tobe the case, his temper could not well sustain it. 

During the dinner Elise saw now and then little clouds come over herhusband's brow, but he himself appeared anxious to disperse them, andall went on tolerably till the chickens came. As the Judge, who adheredto all old customs, was cutting them up, he evidently found them tough, whereupon a glance was sent across the table to his wife which went toher heart like the stab of a knife; but no sooner was the first pangover than this reproachful glance aroused a degree of indignation in herwhich determined her to steel herself against a misfortune which in nocase was her fault; she, therefore, grew quite lively and talkative, andnever once turned her eyes to her husband, who, angry and silent, satethere with a very hot brow, and the knife sticking still in the fowls. 

But, after all, she felt as if she could again breathe freely when thedinner was over, and on that very account longed just to speak one wordof reconciliation with her husband; but he now seemed to have only eyesand ears for Emelie; nor was it long before the two fell into a livelyand most interesting conversation, which certainly would have givenElise pleasure, and in which she might have taken part, had not afeeling of depression stolen over her, as she fancied she perceived asomething cold and depreciating in the manners of her husband towardsher. She grew stiller and paler; all gathered themselves round thebrilliant Emelie; even the children seemed enchanted by her. Henrikpresented her with a beautiful flower, which he had obtained from Louiseby flattery. Petrea seemed to have got up a passion for her father's"old flame, " took a footstool and sat near her, and kissed her hand assoon as she could possess herself of it. 

The lady devoted herself exclusively to her old worshipper, cast thebeams of her beautiful eyes upon him, and smiled bewitchingly. 

"This is a great delight!" thought Elise, as she wiped away a traitoroustear; "but I will keep a good face on it!"

The Candidate, who perceived all this, quickly withdrew from the lady'senchanted circle, in which he also had been involved, and taking "thebaby" on his knee, began to relate a story which was calculated as muchto interest the mother as the child. The children were soon around him:Petrea herself forsook her new flame to listen, and even Elise for themoment was so amused by it that she forgot everything else. That wasprecisely what Jacobi wanted, but it was not that which pleased theJudge. He rose for a moment, in order to hear what it was which had soriveted the attention of his wife. 

"I cannot conceive, " said he to her in a half-whisper, "how you can takedelight in such absurdity; nor do I think it good for the children thatthey should be crammed with such nonsense!"

At length Emelie rose to take her leave, overwhelming Elise with a floodof polite speeches, which she was obliged to answer as well as shecould, and the Judge, who had promised to show her the lions of theplace, accompanied her; on which the rest of the guests dispersedthemselves. The elder children accompanied the Candidate to theschool-room to spend an hour in drawing; the younger went to play;Petrea wished to borrow Gabriele, who at the sight of a gingerbreadheart could not resist, and as a reward received a bit of it; Eliseretired to her own chamber. 

Poor Elise! she dared not at this moment descend into her own heart; shefelt a necessity to abstain from thought--a necessity entirely to forgetherself and the troubling impressions with which to-day had overwhelmedher soul. A full hour was before her, an hour of undisturbed repose, andshe hastened to her manuscript, in order to busy herself with those richmoments of life which her pen could call up at pleasure, and to forgetthe poor and weary present--in one word, to lose the lesser in thehigher reality. The sense of suffering, of which the little annoyancesof life gave her experience, made her alive to the sweet impressions ofthat beauty and that harmonious state of existence which was so dear toher soul. 

She wrote and wrote and wrote, her heart was warm, her eyes filled withtears, the words glowed upon her page, life became bright, the momentsflew. An hour and a half passed. Her husband's tea-time came; he hadsuch delight in coming home at this hour to find his wife and hischildren all assembled round the tea-table in the family room. It veryrarely happened that Elise had not all in readiness for him; but now thestriking of seven o'clock roused her suddenly from her writing; she laiddown her pen, and was in the act of rising when her husband entered. 

A strong expression of displeasure diffused itself over his countenanceas he saw her occupation. 

"You gave us to-day a very bad dinner, Elise, " said he, going up to herand speaking with severity; "but when this novel-writing occupies somuch of your time, it is no wonder that you neglect your domesticduties; you get to care really just as little about these, as youtrouble yourself about my wishes. "

It would have been easy for Elise to excuse herself, and make all rightand straight; but the severe tone in which her husband spoke, and hisscornful glance, wounded her deeply. "You must have patience with me, Ernst, " said she, not without pride and some degree of vexation; "I amnot accustomed to renounce all innocent pleasures; my education, myearlier connexions, have not prepared me for this. "

This was like pricking the Judge in the eye, and with more bitternessand severity than usual he replied:

"You should have thought about that before you gave me your hand; beforeyou had descended into so humble and care-full a circle. It is too latenow. Now I will----" but he did not finish his sentence, for he himselfperceived a storm rising within him, before which he yielded. He went tothe door, opened it, and said in a calm voice, yet still with anagitated tone and glance, "I would just tell you that I have takentickets for the concert to-morrow, if you would wish to go. I hoped tohave found you at the tea-table; but I see that is not at all thoughtof--it is just as desolate and deserted there as if the plague were inthe house. Don't give yourself any trouble, I shall drink my tea at theclub!" and thus saying he banged the door and went away. 

Elise seated herself--she really could not stand--and hid her face inher trembling hands. "Good heavens! is it come to this? Ernst, Ernst!What words! what looks! And I, wretched being, what have I said?"

Such were Elise's broken and only half-defined thoughts, whilst tearsstreamed down her cheeks. 

"Words, words, words!" says Hamlet, disparagingly. But God preserve usfrom the destructive power of words! There are words which can separatehearts sooner than sharp swords--there are words whose sting can remainin the heart through a whole life!

Elise wept long and violently; her whole soul was in excitement. 

In moments of violent struggle, bad and good spirits are at hand; theysurrounded Elise and spoke to her thus:

Bad Spirits. --"Think on that which thou hast given up! think on thy ownmerits! Recollect the many little acts of injustice which thou hast hadto bear, the bitter moments which the severity of thy husband hasoccasioned thee! Why shouldst thou humbly crawl in the dust? Raisethyself, depressed one! raise thyself, offended wife! think of thy ownworth, of thy own rights! Do not allow thyself to be subjected; showsome character. Requite that which thou hast endured. Thou also canstannoy; thou also canst punish! Take refuge in thy nerves, in unkindness;make use of thy power, and enjoy the pleasure of revenge!"

Good Spirits. --"Think on thy wants, on thy faults! Recollect all thepatience, all the kindness, all the tenderness which has been shownthee! Think on the many beautiful moments! Think on thy husband's worth, on his beautiful noble qualities! Think also on life, how short it is;how much unavoidable bitterness it possesses; how much which it is easyeither to bear or to chase away; and think on the all-rectifying powerof affection. Tremble before the chains of selfish feeling; free thyselffrom them by a new sacrifice of love, and purify the heaven of home. Ascending clouds can easily expand into a destructive tempest, or candisperse and leave not a trace in the air. Oh, chase them hence with thepowerful breath of love!"

The happiness of a long life depends, not unfrequently, upon which ofthese invisible counsellors in such moments we give ear to. On this itdepends whether the gates of heaven or of hell shall be opened uponearth to men. Elise listened to the good counsellors; she conversed longwith them, and the more pure recollections they sent into her soul thelighter it became therein. The light of love was kindled in her, and inits light she became clear-sighted in many directions. She saw now whatit was right for her to do respecting her novel, and this revelationwarmed her heart. She knew also that this was the only one she shouldever write, and that her husband should never again miss her from thetea-table, and therefore be obliged to drink his tea at the club (but heshould be reconciled sometime with the sinner--the novel); and shewould, moreover, prepare a dinner for the Colonel's widow, which shouldcompensate for the unlucky one of this day; and--"Would that Ernst wouldbut come home soon, " thought she, "I would endeavour to banish all hisdispleasure, and make all right between us. "

It was the bathing-day of the children, and the message that the hour ofbathing was come interrupted Elise's solitude. She ordered Brigitta tocommence her preparations, and when she had somewhat composed herself, and washed away the traces of her tears with rose-water, she herselfwent down into the chamber. 

"God be praised for water!" thought Elise, at the first view of thescene which presented itself. The soft glowing young forms in the clearwarm water, the glimmering of the open fire, the splashing andjubileering of the children in their unspeakable comfort, their innocentsport one with another in the peaceful little lake of the bath, in whichthey had no fear of raising stormy waves; nay, even Brigitta's happyface, under her white cap, her lively activity, amid the continualphrases of "best-beloved, " "little alabaster arm, " "alabaster foot, ""lily-of-the-valley bosom, " and such like, whilst over thelily-of-the-valley bosom, and the alabaster arm, she spread soap-foamscarcely less white, or wrapped them in snowy cloths, out of whichnothing but little lively, glowing, merry faces peeped and played withone another at bo-peep--all this united to present a picture full oflife and pleasure. 

Elise, however, could not fully enjoy it; the thought of what had justoccurred, longings for reconciliation with her husband, fear that hemight remain long, that he might return too much displeased for hereasily to make all straight again--these thoughts occupied her mind; yetstill she could not help smiling as Gabriele, who had sunk down into thebath alone, exclaimed, almost beside herself for fright, "I am drowning!I am drowning!" In order to re-assure her, her mother stretched out herwhite hands to her, and under their protection she laughed and splashedabout like a little fish in water. 

A shower of flowers streamed suddenly over both mother and child, andGabriele screamed aloud for joy, and stretched forth her little arms tocatch gilly-flowers, roses, and carnations, which fell upon and aroundher. Elise turned herself round in surprise, and her surprise changeditself into the most delightful sensation of joy, as the lips of herhusband were pressed to her forehead. 

"Ah, you!" exclaimed Elise, and threw her arms round his neck, andcaressingly stroked his cheek. 

"I shall get wet through with all this, " said he, laughing, yet withoutleaving the bath, nay, he even stooped down his head to little Gabriele, kissed her, and allowed her to splash him with water. 

"Thank God! all is right again! and perhaps it will be best to take nofurther notice of this unpleasant affair!" thought she, and prepared tofollow her husband into the parlour. 

The Judge had, probably, during his bad tea at the club, held with theinvisible speakers the same conversation, with some variations, as hiswife during his absence, the consequence whereof was his visit to thebathing-room, and the shower of flowers from the nosegay he had broughtwith him for her, and the kiss of reconciliation which effaced everythoughtless and wounding word. He felt now quite pleased that everythingwas as it should be, and that the gentle and yielding temper of his wifewould require nothing further. But, perhaps, on that very account, hewas dissatisfied with himself, her eyes red with weeping grieved him, especially as they beamed so kindly upon him, he felt that he misusedthe power which circumstances had given him over his wife; he felt thathe had behaved harshly to her, and therefore he had no peace withhimself, therefore he felt a necessity to pronounce one word--one word, which it is so hard for the lips of a man to pronounce, yet, which ErnstFrank was too manly, too firm to shrink from. 

When, therefore, his wife entered, he offered her his hand; "Forgive me, Elise, " said he, with the deepest feeling; "I have behaved severely, nay, absurdly to-day!"

"Oh, forgive me, Ernst!" said Elise, deeply affected, whilst she pressedhis hand to her heart and----

Accursed be all disturbers of peace in this world! Such a one entered atthat moment, and undid that which would otherwise have bound them soclosely to each other. It was a messenger from the Colonel's widow witha note, together with a book for the Judge, and two little bottles ofselect Eau de rose for Elise, "of which, I know, " said the note, "she isvery fond. "

The Judge's cheek grew crimson as he read the note, which he did notshow to his wife. 

"An extremely polite and interesting person, " said he; "I willimmediately answer it. "

"Ernst, " said Elise, "should we not invite her to dinner to-morrow? Ithought of something very nice, which is sure to succeed; then we couldgo altogether to the concert, and afterwards she might sup with us. "

"Now that is a good idea, and I thank you for it, my sweet Elise, " saidhe, extremely pleased. 

Yes, if the Colonel's widow had not been there--if the Candidate had notbeen there--and if there had been no _if_ in the case, all might havegone on quite smoothly. But it was quite otherwise. 

CHAPTER IX. 

ONE SWALLOW MAKES NO SUMMER. 

Too many chaotic elements had collected together in the family of theFranks for one sun-gleam to dissipate. Even the married pair did notclearly understand their own actions. 

The Judge, truly, was too much enchanted by his former beloved one; andthe beautiful Emelie did all that was in her power to enslave again herearly adorer. 

Judge Frank, who would have been as cold and proud as possible, if hehad been assailed by coarse and direct flattery, was yet by no meanssteeled against the refined and almost imperceptible flattery of Emelie, who, with all her peculiar gifts of soul and understanding, made herselfsubordinate to him, in order to be enlightened and instructed by him. 

"An extraordinarily amiable and interesting lady, " thought he still withgreater animation, although he seldom asserted so much; and exactly inthe proportion in which he found Emelie interesting, it was natural thathe should find Elise less so, especially as he found in Emelie preciselythose very qualities, the want of which he had so much regretted in hiswife; namely, an interest in his activity as a citizen, and in generalfor the objects connected with which he occupied himself in theliveliest manner. 

Elise, on her part, was neither calm nor clear. The connexion betweenher husband and Emelie was painful to her; and she felt a sort ofconsolation from the devotion of Jacobi, even when it was beginning toassume that passionate character which made her seriously uneasy. 

A letter, which she wrote to her sister about this time, exhibits herstate of feeling:

"It is long since I wrote to you, Cecilia--I hardly know why; I hardlyknow, indeed, my own feelings--all is so unquiet, so undefined. I wishit were clear!

"Do you know she is very lovely, this 'old flame' of my husband's, andvery brilliant. I fancy I am jealous of her. Last evening I went out toa supper-party--the first for several years. I dressed myself with greatcare, for I wished to please Ernst, and had flowers in my hair. I wasgreatly satisfied with my appearance when I went. My husband was to comelater. I found Emelie already there; she was beautiful, and looked mostelegant. They placed me beside her; a looking-glass was before us, onwhich I threw stolen glances, and saw opposite to me--a shadow! Ithought at first it was some illusion, and looked again: but again itrevealed unmercifully to me a pale ghost beside the beautiful anddazzling Emelie. 'It is all over, irremediably over, ' thought I, 'withmy youth and my bloom! But if my husband and children only can love me, I can then resign youth and beauty. '

"But again I felt compelled to look at the shadow in the glass, and grewquite melancholy. Emelie also cast glances at the mirror, and drewcomparisons, but with feelings far different to mine. Then came Ernst, and I saw that he too made comparisons between us. 

"He was, all this evening, very much occupied with Emelie. I felt unwelland weak; I longed so to support myself on his arm; but he did not comenear me the whole time: perhaps he imagined I was out ofhumour--perhaps I looked so. Ah! I returned home before supper, and heremained. As I drove home through those deserted streets in the wretchedhackney-coach, a sense of misery came over my heart such as I cannotdescribe; many a bitter thought was awakened within me, before which Itrembled. 

"At the door of my own home I met Jacobi; he had sate up for me, andwished to tell me something amusing about my children. He seemed to haveforeboded my feelings this evening. My favourite fruit, which he hadprovided for me, should have refreshed me. His friendship and hisdevotion cheered me. There is something so beautiful in feeling oneselfbeloved. 

 * * * * *

"Every new emotion, every new connexion, among men, has its danger, itstemptation; the most beautiful, the most noble, may have their dangeroustendency. Oh! how is this to be prevented without a separation?--how isthe poison to be avoided without deadening the sting? Oh, Cecilia! atthis moment I need a friend; I need you, to whom I could turn, and fromwhom, in these disquieting circumstances, I in my weakness could derivelight and strength. I am discontented with myself; I am discontentedwith----Ah! he alone it is who, if he would, could make all right!

 * * * * *

"Oh, Cecilia, this is a mist-enveloped hour of my life!--does itannounce day or night? My glance is dark; I see the path no longer! ButI will resign myself into the hand of Him who said, 'let there belight. '

 * * * * *

"All is now better and clearer! God be praised! In a few hours this daywill be over;--I long vehemently for it!

"This evening we have a children's dance at our house. Emelie will behere also. There is not a good understanding between us two. She is coldto me, too witty, and too----, but I will do my best to be a goodhostess; and when the day is ended, I will sit and look at my beautifulsleeping boy, and be happy in my children. "

CHAPTER X. 

THE END OF THE DAY. 

Evening came, and with it lights and guests. A strong, self-sacrificingamiability governed Elise's manner this evening. She was almost cordialtowards Emelie; cared for the comfort of every one, played the piano forthe children's dance, and appeared to exist only in order to serveothers. The beautiful Emelie, on the contrary, thought of herself; waslivelier and more brilliant than ever, and, as usual, assembled all thegentlemen around her. The conversation was lively in this group; itturned from politics to literature, and then dwelt awhile ontheatricals, in which Emelie, equally animated and sarcastic, characterised the Scribe and Mellesville school as a dramaticmanufactory. 

"For the rest, " added she, "the stage acts very prudently and sensiblyin letting the curtain fall the moment the hero and heroine approach thealtar; novels do the same, and that, also, with good reason, otherwisenobody would be able to read them. "

"How so?" asked the Judge, with great earnestness. 

"Because, " answered Emelie, "the illusion of life is extinguished on theother side of this golden moment, and reality steps forward then in allits heaviness and nakedness. Look at a young couple in the glowingmorning of their union, how warm love is then; how it penetrates andbeautifies everything; how it glows and speaks in glance and word, andagreeable action; how its glory changes the whole of life into poetry!'Thou, thou!' is the one thought of the young people then. But observethe same couple a few years later--'I, I!' and 'my pleasure, ' is thephrase now. The adoring all-resigning lover is then become the exactingmarried man, who will be waited on and obeyed. And the lovingall-sacrificing bride, she is become the unwieldy and care-burdenedhousewife, who talks of nothing but trouble, bad saltings, and negligentmaid-servants. And what are _tęte-ā-tęte_ communications between thesetwo? 'How, my dear! is the butter really used up already? Why, I gaveyou money only the other day for butter! You really must look betterafter things, and see what the cook does with the butter; I will notallow such extravagance in the house! Do you want something more?' 'Yes, indeed, my love, I and the children must have new over-dresses. LittlePeter's coat is worn out, and little Paul has grown out of his; and myold cloak cannot last to eternity!' People, " continued the sarcasticEmilie, "may thank their stars, too, if out of such interestingcommunications as these no hateful quarrels arise; and if, in the happyrepose of their homes, harmless yawnings have only taken place of thekisses which have left it. Contracted circumstances, meannesses, anddomestic trials, destroy the happiness of marriage, even as the wormdestroys the flower, bringing bitterness and sourness into the temper;and though the married pair may continue to the very day of their deathto address each other as 'My sweet friend, ' yet, very often, _in petto_, it is 'My sour friend. ' Yet, after all, this is nothing, in fact, butwhat is perfectly natural; and, in this respect, marriage only followsthe eternal law of nature in all earthly existence. Every form of lifecarries in itself decay and dissolution--a poisonous snake-king[3] gnawseven at the root of the world's tree. "

Several of the listeners, and among them the Candidate, had laughedloudly at Emelie's descriptions; but the Judge had not once moved hislips, and replied, when she had done, with an earnestness thatconfounded even her satire. 

"If all this were true, Emelie, " said he, "then were life, even in thebest point of view, good for nothing; and with justice might it indeedbe called an illusion. But it is not so; and you have only describedmarriage in its lowest, and not either in its best or its truest sense. I do not deny the difficulties which exist in this as in every othercircumstance of life; but I am confident that they may and must beovercome; and this will be done if the married pair bring only rightintentions into the house. Then want and care, disturbing, nay evenbitter hours, may come, but they will also go; and the bonds of love andtruth will be consolation, nay, even will give strength. You havespoken, Emelie, of death and separation as the end of the drama of life;you have forgotten the awaking again, and the second youth, of whichthe ancient northern Vala sings. Married life, like all life, has such asecond youth; yes, indeed, a progressive one, because it has itsfoundation in the life which is eternal; and every contest won, everydanger passed through, every pain endured, change themselves intoblessings on home and on the married pair, who have thus obtained betterknowledge, and who are thus more closely united. "

He spoke with unusual warmth, and not without emotion, and hisexpressive glance sought and dwelt upon his wife, who had approachedunobserved, and who had listened to Emelie's bitter satire with stingingpain, because she knew that there was a degree of truth in it. 

But as her husband spoke, she felt that he perceived the full truth, andher heart beat freer and stronger, and all at once a clearness was inher soul. With her head bent forward, she gazed on him with a glancefull of tenderness and confidence, forgetting herself, and listeningwith fervour to every word which he uttered. In this very moment theireyes met, and there was much, inexpressibly much, in their glance; aclear crimson of delight flushed her cheek, and made her beautiful. Thegentle happiness which now animated her being, together with her lovelyfigure, her graceful movements, and the purity of her brow, made her farmore fascinating than her lovely rival. Her husband followed her withhis eyes, as kindly and attentively she busied herself among her guests, or with the little Gabriele in her arms mingled in the children's dance, for which Evelina's foster-daughters were playing a four-handed piece. He had suddenly cooled towards his "old flame, " nor was he at all warmedagain by the sharp tone with which the little caressing Petrea wasreproved for being too obtrusive. 

"Our little Louise in time will dance very well, " remarked the Judge tohis wife, as he noticed with great pleasure the little _brisées_ and_chassées_ of his daughter whom the twelve-years-old Nils GabrielStjernhök twirled round, and with whom he conversed with great gravity, and a certain knightly politeness. 

In the mean time Mrs. Gunilla was instructing Emelie on the manners andcharacter of the French; and Emelie, whose countenance since thediscussion of the marriage question had worn a bitter expression, endeavoured with a tolerably sharp tone to make her superiorinformation felt, and in return was mown down, as it were, at one strokeby Mrs. Gunilla, who--had never been in France. 

The Candidate followed Elise everywhere with glances of devotion, andappeared this evening perfectly enchanted by her amiability. 

"Fie, for shame!--to take all the confections to yourself!" moralisedthe little Queen-bee to the little S----ne, --a fat, quiet boy, who tookthe confections and the reproof with the same stoical indifference. Louise cast a look of high indignation upon him, and then gave her shareof sweetmeats to a little girl, who complained that she had had none. 

Supper came, and Emelie, whose eyes flashed unusual fire, seemed to wishfervently to win back that regard which she, perhaps, feared to havelost already, and with her playful and witty conversation electrifiedthe whole company. Jacobi, who was excited in no ordinary manner, drankone glass of wine after another, talked and laughed very loud, andlooked between whiles upon Elise with glances which expressed hissentiments in no doubtful manner. These glances were not the first ofthe kind which the quick eye of Elise's rival observed. 

"That young man, " said she, in a low but significant whisper to theJudge, and with a glance on Jacobi, "seems to be very charming; he hasreally remarkably attractive talents--is he nearly related to Elise?"

"No, " returned he, looking at her rather surprised; "but he has been fornearly three months a member of our family. "

"Indeed!" said she, in a significant and grave manner; "I should havethought--but as for that, " added she, in an apparently carelesstone--"Elise is really so kind and so amiable, that for him who is withher daily, it must be very difficult not to love her. "

The Judge felt the sting of the viper, and with a glance which flashed anoble indignation, he replied to his beautiful neighbour, "You areright, Emelie; I know no woman who deserves more love or esteem thanshe!"

Emelie bit her lip and grew pale; and she would assuredly have grown yetpaler, could she only have understood the sentiment which she hadawakened in the breast of her former admirer. 

Ernst Frank had a keen sense of moral meanness, and when this displayeditself no gifts of genius or of nature had power to conceal it. Heclearly understood her intentions, and despised her for them. In hiseyes, at this moment, she was hateful. In the mean time his composurewas destroyed. He looked on Jacobi, and observed his glances and hisfeelings; he looked on Elise, and saw that she was uneasy, and avoidedhis eye. 

A horrible spasmodic feeling thrilled through his soul; in order toconceal what he felt he became more than usually animated, yet there wasa something hostile, a something sternly sarcastic in his words, whichstill, on account of the general gaiety, remained unobserved by most. 

Never before was Assessor Munter so cheerful, so comically cross withall mankind. Mrs. Gunilla and he shouted as if desperate against eachother. The company rose from the supper-table in full strife, andadjourned to the dancing-room. 

"Music, in heaven's name! music!" exclaimed the Assessor with a gestureof despair, and Elise and the Colonel's widow hastened to the piano. Itwas a pleasant thought, after the screaming of that rough voice had beenheard, to play one of Blangini's beautiful night-pieces, which seem tohave been inspired by the Italian heaven, and which awaken in the soulof the hearer a vision of those summer nights, with their flowerymeadows, of their love, of their music, and of all their unspeakabledelights. 

"_Un' eterna constanza in amor!_" were the words which, repeated severaltimes with the most bewitching modulations, concluded the song. 

"_Un' eterna constanza in amor!_" repeated the Candidate, softly andpassionately pressing his hand to his heart, as he followed Elise to awindow, whither she had gone to gather a rose for her rival. As Elise'shand touched the rose, the lips of Jacobi touched her hand. 

Emelie sang another song, which delighted the company extremely; butErnst Frank stood silent and gloomy the while. Words had been spokenthis evening which aroused his slumbering perception; and with the lookhe cast upon Jacobi and his wife, he felt as if the earth were tremblingunder his feet. He saw that which passed at the window, and gasped forbreath. A tempest was aroused in his breast; and at the same momentturning his eyes, he encountered, those of another person, which wereriveted upon him with a questioning, penetrating expression. They werethose of the Assessor. Such a glance as that from any other person hadbeen poison to the mind of Frank, but from Jeremias Munter it operatedquite otherwise; and as shortly afterwards he saw his friend writingsomething on a strip of paper, he went to him, and looking over hisshoulder, read these words:

"Why regardest thou the mote in thy brother's eye, yet seest not thebeam in thine own eye?"

"Is this meant for me?" asked he, in a low but excited voice. 

"Yes, " was the direct reply. 

The Judge took the paper, and concealed it in his breast. 

He was pale and silent, and began to examine himself. The company brokeup; he had promised Emelie to accompany her home; but now, while she, full of animation, jested with several gentlemen, and while her servantdrew on her fur-shoes, he stood silent and cold beside his "old flame"as a pillar of ice. Mrs. Gunilla and the Assessor quarrelled till thelast moment. Whilst all this was going on, Elise went quietly to Jacobi, who stood somewhat apart, and said to him in a low voice, "I wish tospeak with you, and will wait for you in the parlour, when they are allgone. " Jacobi bowed; a burning crimson flashed to his cheek; the Judgethrew a penetrating glance upon them, and passed his hand over his palecountenance. 

"It gives me great pleasure, " cried Mrs. Gunilla, speaking shrilly and_staccato_--"it gives me great pleasure to see my fellow-creatures, andit gives me great pleasure if they will see me. If they are not alwaysagreeable, why I am not always agreeable myself! Heart's-dearest! inthis world one must have patience one with another, and not beeverlastingly requiring and demanding from others. Heaven help me! I amsatisfied with the world, and with my own fellow-creatures, as our Lordhas been pleased to make them. I cannot endure that people should beperpetually blaming, and criticising, and mocking, and making sour facesat everything, and saying 'I will not have this!' and 'I will not havethat!' and 'I will not have it so! It is folly; it is unbearable; it iswearisome; it is stupid!' precisely as if they themselves only wereendurable, agreeable, and clever! No, I have learned better manners thanthat. It is true that I have no genius, nor learning, nor talents, as somany people in our day lay claim to, but I have learned to governmyself!"

During this moral lecture, and endeavouring all the time to overpowerit, the Assessor exclaimed, "And can you derive the least pleasure fromyour blessed social life? No, that you cannot! What is social life, buta strift to get into the world in order to discover that the world isunbearable? but a scheming and labouring to get invited, to be offendedand put out of sorts if not invited; and if invited, then to complain ofweariness and vexation, and thus utter their lamentations. Thus peoplebring a mass of folks together, and wish them--at Jericho! and all thisstrift only to get poorer, more out of humour, more out of health; inone word, to obtain the perfectly false position, _vis-ā-vis_, ofhappiness! See there! Adieu, adieu! When the ladies take leave, theynever have done. "

"There is not one single word of truth in all that you have said, " wasthe last but laughing salutation of Mrs. Gunilla to the Assessor, as, accompanied by the Candidate, she left the door. The Judge, too, wasgone; and Elise, left alone, betook herself to the parlour. 

Suddenly quick steps were heard behind her--she thought "Jacobi"--turnedround, and saw her husband; but never before had she seen him looking asthen; there was an excitement, an agitation, in his countenance thatterrified her. He threw his arm violently round her waist, riveted hiseyes upon her with a glance that seemed as if it would penetrate intoher inmost soul. 

"Ernst, Ernst, be calm!" whispered she, deeply moved by his state ofmind, the cause of which she imagined. He seized her hand and pressed itto his forehead--it was damp and cold; the next moment he was gone. 

We will now return to the Candidate. 

Wine and love, and excited expectation, had so inflamed the imaginationof the young man, that he hardly knew what he did--whether he walked, orwhether he flew; and more than once, in descending the stairs, had henearly precipitated Mrs. Gunilla, who exclaimed with kindness, but somelittle astonishment, "The Cross preserve me! I cannot imagine, heart's-dearest, how either you or I go to-night! I think we are allabout to--see, now again, all's going mad. --No, I thank you, I'll takecare of my nose, crooked as it is. I think I can go safer by myself. Ican hold by----"

"A thousand thousand times pardon, " interrupted the Candidate, whilst hepressed Mrs. Gunilla's arm tightly; "it is all my fault. But now we willgo safely and magnificently; I was a little dizzy!"

"Dizzy!" repeated she. "Heart's-dearest, we should take care on thatvery account; one should take care of one's head as well as one's heart;one should take care of that, or it may go still more awry than it nowis with us! He, he, he, he--but listen to me, my friend, " said Mrs. Gunilla, suddenly becoming very grave: "I will tell you one thing, andthat is----"

"Your most gracious Honour, pardon me, " interrupted he, "but I think--Ifeel rather unwell--I--there, now we are at your door! Pardon me!" andthe Candidate tumbled up-stairs again. 

In the hall of the Franks' dwelling he drew breath. The thought of themysterious meeting with Elise filled him at the same time with joy anduneasiness. He could not collect his bewildered thoughts, and with awildly-beating heart went into the room where Elise awaited him. 

As soon as he saw her white lovely figure standing in the magicallamplight his soul became intoxicated, and he was just about to throwhimself at her feet, when Elise, hastily, and with dignity, drew back afew paces. 

"Listen to me, Jacobi, " said she, with trembling but earnest voice. 

"Listen to you!" said he, passionately--"oh, that I might listen to youfor ever!--oh, that I----"

"Silence!" interrupted Elise, with a severity very unusual to her; "notone word more of this kind, or our conversation is at an end, and we areseparated for ever!"

"Good heavens!" exclaimed Jacobi, "what have----"

"I beseech you, listen to me!" continued Elise; "tell me, Jacobi, have Igiven you occasion to think thus lightly of me?"

Jacobi started. "What a question!" said he, stammering, and pale. 

"Nevertheless, " continued Elise, with emotion, "I must have done so;your behaviour to me this evening has proved it. Could you think, Jacobi, that I, a wife, the mother of many children, could permit thesentiment which you have been so thoughtless as to avow this evening?Could you imagine that it would not occasion me great uneasiness andpain? Indeed, it is so, Jacobi; I fear that you have gone sadly wrong;and if I myself, through any want of circumspection in my conduct, haveassisted thereto, may God forgive me! You have punished me for it, Jacobi--have punished me for the regard I have felt for you and shown toyou; and if I now must break a connexion which I hoped would gladden mylife, it is your own fault. Only one more such glance--one more suchdeclaration, as you have made this evening, and you must remove fromthis house. "

The crimson of shame and indignation burned on Jacobi's cheek. "Intruth, " said he, "I have not deserved such severity. "

"Ah! examine yourself, Jacobi, " said she, "and you will judge yourselfmore severely than I have done. You say that you love me, Jacobi, andyou do not dread to destroy the peace and happiness of my life. Already, perhaps, are poisonous tongues in activity against me. I have seen thisevening glances directed upon me and upon you, which were not mild; andthoughts and feelings are awakened in my husband's soul, which neverought to have been awakened there. You have disturbed the peace of ahouse, into which you were received with friendship and confidence. ButI know, " continued she, mildly, "that you have not intended anythingcriminal!--no bad intentions have guided your behaviour; folly only hasled you to treat so lightly that relationship which is the holiest onearth. You have not reflected on your life, on your duty, and yoursituation, in this family, with seriousness. "

Jacobi covered his face with his hands, and a strong emotion agitatedhim. 

"And seriousness, " again began Elise, with warmth and deepearnestness--"seriousness! how it clothes--how it dignifies theman!--Jacobi, the saviour of my child--my young friend! I would not havespoken thus to you if I had not had great faith on your better--yournobler self;--if I had not hoped to have won a friend in you--a friendfor my whole life, for myself and my Ernst. Oh, Jacobi, listen to myprayer!--you are thrown among people who are willing from their veryhearts to be your friends! Act so that we may love and highly esteemyou; and do not change into grief that hearty goodwill which we bothfeel for you! Combat against, nay, banish from your heart, every foolishsentiment which you, for a moment, have cherished for me. Consider me asa sister, as a mother! Yes, " continued she, pausing over this word, andhalf prophetically, "perhaps you may even yet call me mother; and if youwill show me love and faith, Jacobi, as you have said, I will acceptit--from my son! Oh, Jacobi! if you would deserve my blessing, and myeternal gratitude, be a faithful friend, a good instructor of my boy--myHenrik! Your talents as a teacher are of no common kind. Your heart isgood--your understanding is capable of the noblest cultivation--yourpath is open before you to all that which makes man most estimable andmost amiable. Oh, turn not away from it, Jacobi--tread this path withseriousness----"

"Say not another word!" exclaimed Jacobi. "Oh, I see all! forgive me, angelic Elise! I will do all, everything, in order to deserve hereafteryour esteem and your friendship. You have penetrated my heart--you havechanged it. I shall become a better man. But tell me that you forgiveme--that you can be my friend, and that you will!"

Jacobi, in the height of his excitement, had thrown himself on his kneebefore her; Elise also was deeply affected; tears streamed from hereyes, whilst she extended her hand to him, and bending over him said, from the very depths of her heart, "Your friend, for ever!"

Calmly, and with cheerful countenances, both raised themselves; but aninvoluntary shudder passed through both as they saw the Judge standingin the room, with a pale and stern countenance. 

Jacobi went towards him: "Judge Frank, " said he, with a firm but humblevoice, "you behold here a----"

"Silence, Jacobi!" interrupted Elise, quickly; "you need not blush onaccount of your bended knee, nor is any explanation needful. It is not, is it, Ernst?" continued she, with the undaunted freshness of innocence:"you desire no explanation; you believe me when I say that Jacobi now, more than ever, deserves your friendship. A bond is formed between usthree, which, as I hope before God, nothing will disturb, and nopoisonous tongues censure. You believe me, Ernst?"

"Yes, " said he, giving her his hand; "if I could not, then----" he didnot finish his sentence, but fixed his eyes with a stern expressionimmovably on her. "I will speak with you, " said he, after a moment, andin a calmer voice. "Good night, Mr. Jacobi. "

Jacobi bowed, withdrew a few steps, and then returned. "Judge Frank, "said he, in a voice which showed the excitement of his feelings, "giveme your hand; I will deserve your friendship. "

The outstretched hand was grasped firmly and powerfully, and Jacobi leftthe room in haste. 

"Come here, Elise, " said the Judge, with warmth, leading his wife to thesofa, and enclosing her in his arms. "Speak to me! Tell me, has anythingin my behaviour of late turned your heart from me!"

Elise's head sunk upon the breast of her husband, and she was silent. "Ah, Ernst!" said she at length, with a painful sigh, "I also amdissatisfied with myself. But, oh!" added she more cheerfully, "when Ilean myself on you thus, when I hear your heart beating, and know whatis within that heart, then, Ernst, I feel how I love you--how I believeon you! Then I reproach myself with being so weak, so unthankful, soready to take offence, then--oh, Ernst! love me! Look on me always asnow, then life will be bright to me; then shall I have strength toovercome all--even my own weakness; then I shall feel that only a cloud, only a shadow of mist, and no reality can come between us. But now allis vanished. Now I can lay open to you all the innermost loopholes of myheart--can tell you all my weaknesses----"

"Be still, be still now, " said the Judge, with a bright and affectionatelook, and laying his hand on her mouth. "I have more failings than you;but I am awake now. Weep not, Elise; let me kiss away your tears! Do younot feel, as I do now, that all is right? Do we not believe in theEternal Good, and do we not believe in each other? Let us forgive andforget, and have peace together. Hereafter, when the error of this timehas in some measure passed from our remembrance, we will talk it over, and wonder how it ever came between us. Now, all is so bright betweenus, and we both of us see our way clearly. Our errors will serve us forwarnings. Wherefore do we live in the world, unless to become better?Look at me, Elise. Are you friendly towards me? Can you have confidencein me?"

"I can! I have!" said she; "there is not a grain of dust any longerbetween us. "

"Then we are one!" said he, with a joyful voice. "Let us, then, in God'sname, go thus together through life. What He has united, let no man, noaccident, nothing in this world, separate!"

Night came; but light had arisen in the breast both of husband and wife. 

 * * * * *

The furrow of disunion bears commonly thorns and thistles, but it maylikewise bear seed for the granary of heaven. 

FOOTNOTES:

[3] According to the Northern mythology, Nidhögg, the snake-king, livesin Niflhem, the nether world. 

CHAPTER XI. 

JACOBI. 

When Jacobi entered his room, he found a letter lying on the table nearhis bed. He recognised the handwriting as that of Judge Frank, andquickly opened it. A bank-note of considerable value fell out; and theletter contained the following words:

 "You are indebted to several persons in the city, Jacobi, with whom I wish, for your own sake, that you should have as little to do as possible. Within, you will find the means of satisfying their demands. Receive it as from a paternal friend, who sincerely wishes you to regard him as such, and who embraces with pleasure an opportunity of making an acknowledgment to the friend and instructor of his children. To the preserver of my child I shall always remain indebted; but should you desire anything, or need anything, do not apply to any other than

 "Your friend, E. Frank. "

"He! and he, too!" exclaimed Jacobi, deeply agitated. "Oh, the kind, noble, excellent man! And I--I shall, I will become worthy of him! Fromthis day I am a new man!"

He pressed the letter to his breast, and looked up to the star-lightedheaven with silent but fervent vows. 

CHAPTER XII. 

TIME GOES. 

Life has its moments of strength and bloom; its bright moments ofinspiration, in which the human artist (the painter of earthly life)seizes on, and utters the supremely pure, the supremely beautiful, thedivine. If, in such moments, everything in human life were executed; ifthen sacrifices were made, work accomplished, victories won, there wouldbe but little difficulty in life. But the difficult part is to preserve, through a long course of years, the flame which has been kindled byinspiration! to preserve it while the storms come and go, while theeverlasting dust-rain of the moments falls and falls; to preserve itstill and uniform, amidst the uniform changing of uniform days andnights. To do this, strength from above is required; repeated draughtsfrom the fountain of inspiration; both for the great and the small--forall labourers on earth. 

It was the good fortune of Ernst and Elise that they knew this; and knewalso how to avail themselves of it. On this account they succeeded moreand more in conquering their natural failings; on this account they camenearer to each other by every little step, which in itself is sounobservable, but which yet, at the same time, twines so firmly andlovingly together the human heart and life, and which may be containedin the rubric--_regard for mutual inclinations, interest for mutualinterests_. 

Through this new-born intimacy of heart, this strengthening and pureaffection, Elise assumed a secure and noble standing with regard toJacobi. Her heart was vanquished by no weakness, even when she sawsuffering expressed in his youthful countenance; nay, she remained firm, even when she saw that his health was giving way, and only besought herhusband to name an earlier day for his and Henrik's departure. This wasalso her husband's wish. Like a good angel, at once gentle, yet strong, he stood at this time by her side. No wonder was it, therefore, that, with his support, Elise went forward successfully; no wonder was it, therefore, that from the firm conduct of her husband, and from thecontemplation of the good understanding which existed between themarried pair, the whispered blame, which had already begun to getabroad at their expense, died of itself, like a flame wantingnourishment. 

Of Judge Frank's "old flame, " which Elise had feared so much, we mustrelate how that she found herself so wounded, and so cooled likewise, bythe ice-cold behaviour of her former adorer, that she quickly left thetown, which was too monotonous for her, and abandoned all thoughts ofsettling there. 

"Life there would be too uniform for me, would possess too littleinterest, " said she, yawning, to the Judge, who was warmly counsellingher return either to France or Italy. 

"In our good North, " added he, "we must find that which can giveinterest and enjoyment to life in ourselves and our own means, --from ourfamilies, from our own breasts. "

"She is, nevertheless, extremely beautiful and interesting, " said Elise, with a kindly feeling towards her when she was gone. The Judge made noreply; he never was heard to speak again of his former beloved one. 

Days went by. The Judge had much to do. Elise occupied herself with herlittle girls, and the Candidate with Henrik and his own studies. 

The children grew like asparagus in June, and the father rejoiced overthem. "The Queen-bee will grow over all our heads, " prophesied he many atime; and when he heard Eva playing "Marlbrough s'en va-t-en guerre, " onthe piano, his musical sense awoke, and he said, "what a deal of feelingthere is already in her music!--is there not, Elise?"

The evenings, on which all the members of the family assembled, assumedconstantly a livelier and more comfortable character for every one;often they played and danced with the children. 

The children! What a world of pleasure and pain do they not bring withthem into a house! Of a truth all is not of as rosy a hue as theircheeks. Elise discovered that in her children which was not alwaysexactly good. "Do not to others what thou wouldst not that they shoulddo to thee. " "People should think of what they do. " "Patience is a goodroot. " "You do not see that your father and mother do so; look at me, and do as I do. " These standing and going speeches, which have travelledthrough the world from the time when "Adam delved and Eve span, " down tothe present day, and which to the very end of time will be ever inuse--together with assurances to the children, whenever they werepunished, or when they must learn their lessons yet more--that all thiswas done for their benefit, and that the time would come when they wouldbe thankful for it--which the children very seldom, if everbelieved--this citizen-of-the-world, patriarchal household-fare, whichwas dealt out in the family of the Franks, as in every other worthyfamily, did not always produce its proper effect. 

Perhaps Elise troubled herself too much sometimes about the perpetualrecurrence of the same fault in her children--perhaps she calculated toolittle on the invisible but sun-like and powerful influence of paternallove on the little human-plants. True it is that she often was in greatanxiety on their account, and that the development and future prospectsof her daughters awoke in her soul much disquiet and trouble. 

One day, when such thoughts had troubled her more than usual, she feltthe necessity of a prudent, and, in this respect, experienced femalefriend, to whom she could open her mind. 

"Ernst, " said she, as her husband prepared himself to go out immediatelyafter dinner, "I shall go below for a few minutes to Evelina, but I willbe back again by the time you return. "

"Don't trouble yourself about that, dear Elise, " said he; "remain aslong as you like; I'll fetch you. Take my arm, and let us go downtogether, that I may see exactly where you go, and whence I must fetchyou. "

CHAPTER XIII. 

A LITTLE EDUCATION AND COFFEE COMMITTEE. 

As Elise entered Evelina's room, Pyrrhus sprang, barking, towards her, and wagging his tail. Mrs. Gunilla was there, and she and the hostessemulated each other in welcoming their friend. 

"Nay! best-beloved, that is charming!" exclaimed Mrs. Gunilla, embracingElise cordially. "Now, how does the little lady?--somewhatpale?--somewhat out of spirits, I fancy? I will tell confidentially thatI know we shall presently get some magnificent coffee, which will cheerup little Elise. "

Evelina took Elise's hand, and looked kindly and sympathising at herwith her calm sensible eyes. Pyrrhus touched her foot gently with hisnose, in order to call her attention, and then seated himself on hishind legs before her, began growling, in order to express his sympathyalso. Elise laughed, and she and Mrs. Gunilla vied with each other incaressing the little animal. 

"Ah, let me sit down here and chat with you, where everything seems sokind, " said Elise, in reply to Evelina's glance, which spoke such a kind"How do you do?" "Here all is so quiet and so comfortable. I do not knowhow you manage, Evelina, but it seems to me as if the air in your roomwere clearer than elsewhere; whenever I come to you it seems to me as ifI entered a little temple of peace. "

"Yes, and so it seems to me, " said Mrs. Gunilla, cordially. 

"Yes, thank God, " said Evelina, smiling gratefully, and with tears inher eyes; "here is peace!"

"And at our little lady's, the young folks raise dust sometimes in thetemper, as well as in the rooms. Is it not so?" said Mrs. Gunilla, withfacetiousness. "Well, well, " added she, by way of consolation, "everything has its time, all dust will in time lay itself, only havepatience. "

"Ah, teach me that best thing, Aunt, " said Elise, "for I am come hereprecisely with the hope of gaining some wisdom--I need it so much. Butwhere are your daughters to-day, Evelina?"

"They are gone to-day to one of their friends, " replied she, "to alittle festival, which they have long anticipated with pleasure; and Ialso expect to have my share, from their relation of it to me. "

"Ah! teach me, Evelina, " said Elise, "how I can make my daughters asamiable, as good, and as happy, as your Laura and Karin. I confess thatit is the anxiety for the bringing up of my daughters which ever makesme uneasy, and which lies so heavy on my heart this very day. I distrustmy own ability--my own artistical skill, rightly to form theirminds--rightly to unfold them. "

"Ah, education, education!" said Mrs. Gunilla, angrily; "people areeverlastingly crying out now for education. One never can hear anythingnow but about education. In my youth I never heard talk and outcry foreducation, and yet, thank God, a man was a man in those days for allthat. I confess that when I first heard this talk of education, Isupposed that there would be two sorts, as of everything in the world. Ithought so! But now, ever since _le tiers état_ have pushed themselvesso much forward, have made so much of themselves, and have esteemedthemselves as something exclusive in the world with their education--nowthe whole world cries out, 'educate! educate!' Yes, indeed, they eventell us now that we should educate the maid-servants. I pray God todispense with my living in the time when maid-servants are educated; Ishould have to wait myself on them, instead of their waiting on me. Yes, yes! things are going on towards that point at a pretty rate, that I canpromise you! Already they read Frithiof and Axel; and before one isaware, one shall hear them talk of 'husband and wife, ' and 'wife andhusband;' and that they fancy themselves 'to be vines, which must witherif they are not supported;' and 'sacrifices, ' and other such affectingthings, until they become quite incapable of cleaning a room, orscouring a kettle. Yes, indeed, there would be pretty management in theworld with all their education! It is a frenzy, a madness, with thiseducation! It is horrible!"

The longer Mrs. Gunilla talked on this subject, the more she excitedherself. 

Elise and Evelina laughed heartily, and then declared that theythemselves, as belonging to the _tiers état_, must take education, nay, even the education of maid-servants, under their protection. 

"Ah, " said Mrs. Gunilla, impatiently, "you make all so artistical andentangled with your education; and you cram the heads of children fullof such a many things, that they never get them quite straight all thedays of their life. In my youth, people learned to speak 'the language, 'as the French was then called, just sufficient to explain a motto;enough of drawing to copy a pattern, and music enough to play a _contredanse_ if it were wanted; but they did not learn, as now, to gabbleabout everything in the world; but they learned to think, and if theyknew less of art and splendour, why, they had the art to directthemselves, and to leave the world in peace!"

"But, your best Honour, " said Evelina, "education in its true meaning, as it is understood in our time, teaches us to take a clearer view ofourselves and of the world at large, so that we may more correctlyunderstand our own allotted station, estimate more properly that ofothers, and, in consequence, that every one may be fitted for his ownstation, and contented therewith. "

"Yes, yes, " said Mrs. Gunilla, "all that may be very good, but----" Butjust then the coffee came in, with biscuits and gingerbread, which madean important diversion in the entertainment, which now took a liveliercharacter. Mrs. Gunilla imparted to Elise, with jesting seriousness, avariety of good counsel on the education of her children. She sent forand recommended particularly a certain _Orbis Pictus_, which she herselfhad studied when a child, and which began with the words, "Come here, boy, and learn wisdom from my mouth, " and in which one could see clearlyhow the soul was fashioned, and how it looked. It looked like a pancakespread out on a table round and smooth, with all the five sensesproperly numbered. Mrs. Gunilla assured Elise, that if her children paidattention to this picture, it would certainly develop and fashion theirideas of the human soul. Furthermore, she proposed the same educationalcourse as had been used with such distinguished success upon herdeceased father and his brother, when they went to school, and whichconsisted in every boy being combed with a fine comb every Saturday, andwell whipped, whilst an ounce of English salt was allowed per boy, inorder to drive the bad spirits out of him. Beyond this, they had, too, on the same day, a diet of bread and beer, in which was a dumplingcalled "Grammatica, " so that the boys might be strengthened for thelearning of the following week. 

During the merriment which these anecdotes occasioned, the Judge camein: delighted with the merriment, and delighted with his wife, he seatedhimself beside her, quite covetous of an hour's gossip with the ladies. Mrs. Gunilla served him up the human soul in the _Orbis Pictus_, andElise instigated her still further to the relation of the purificationof the boys. The Judge laughed at both from the bottom of his heart, andthen the conversation turned again on the hard and disputable ground ofeducation; all conceding, by general consent, the insufficiency of rulesand methods to make it available. 

Evelina laid great stress on the self-instruction of the teacher. "Inthe degree, " said she, "in which man developes in himself goodness, wisdom, and ability, he succeeds commonly in calling out these inchildren. "

All the little committee, without exception, gave their most livelyapproval; and Elise felt herself quite refreshed, quite strengthened bythe words which showed her so clearly the path to her great object. Sheturned now, therefore, the conversation to Evelina's own history anddevelopment. It was well known that her path through life had been anunusual one, and one of independence, and Elise wished now to know howshe had attained to that serenity and refreshing quiet whichcharacterised her whole being. Evelina blushed, and wished to turn theconversation from herself--a subject which she least of all would speakabout, and that probably because she was in harmony with herself--but asthe Judge with his earnest cordiality united in the wish of his wife andMrs. Gunilla, that Evelina would relate to them some passages in thehistory of her life, she acceded, remarking only that what she had torelate was in no way extraordinary; and then, after she had bethoughtherself for a moment, she began, addressing herself more especially toElise, and in the mean time Mrs. Gunilla hastily jotted down thenarrative, which we will here designate

EVELINA'S HISTORY. 

Have you ever been conscious, while listening to a beautiful piece ofmusic, of a deep necessity, an indescribable longing, to find in yourown soul, in your own life, a harmony like that which you perceived inthe tune?--if so, you have then an idea of the suffering and the releaseof my soul. I was yet a little child when, for the first time, I wasseized upon by this longing, without at that time comprehending it. There was a little concert in the house of my parents; the harp, piano, horn, and clarionette, were played by four distinguished artists. In onepart of the symphony the instruments united in an indescribably sweetand joyous melody, in the feeling of which my childish soul was seizedupon by a strong delight, and at the same time by a deep melancholy. Itseemed to me as if I had then an understanding of heaven, and I burstinto tears. Ah! the meaning of these I have learned since then. Manysuch, and many far more painful, tears of longing, have fallen upon thedark web of my life. 

To what shall I compare the picture of my youthful years? All that it, and many other such family pictures exhibit, is unclear, indefinite, inone word, blotted as it were in the formation. It resembled a dullautumn sky, with its grey, shapeless, intermingling cloud-masses; fullof those features without precision, of those contours without meaning, of those shadows without depth, of those lights without clearness, whichso essentially distinguish the work of a bungler from that of a truemaster. 

My family belonged to the middle class, and we were especially wellcontent to belong to this noble class; and as we lived from our rents, and had no rank in the state, we called ourselves, not without someself-satisfaction, people of condition. We exhibited a certain genteelindifference towards the _haute volée_ in the citizen society, not onlyin words but sometimes also in action; yet, nevertheless, in secret wewere extremely wounded or flattered by all those who came in contactwith us from this circle; and not unfrequently too the familyconversation turned, quite accidentally as it were, on the subject ofits being ennobled on the plea of the important service which our fathercould render to the state in the House of Knights; and in the hearts ofus young girls it excited a great pleasure when we were addressed as "mylady. " Beyond this agitation of the question nothing came. 

The daughters of the house were taught that all pomp and pleasure ofthis world was only vanity, that nothing was important and worthstriving after but virtue and inward worth; yet for all this, it sohappened that their most lively interest and endeavours, and the warmestwishes of the hearts of all, were directed to wealth, rank, and worldlyfortune of every kind. The daughters were taught that in all things thewill of God must alone direct them; yet in every instance they wereguided by the fear of man. They were taught that beauty was nothing, andof no value; yet they were often compelled to feel, and that painfully, in the paternal house, that they wore not handsome. They were allowed tocultivate some talents, and acquire some knowledge, but God forbid thatthey should ever become learned women; on which account they learnednothing thoroughly, though in many instances they pretended toknowledge, without possessing anything of its spirit, its nourishingstrength, or its pure esteem-inspiring earnestness. But above allthings they learned, and this only more and more profoundly the moretheir years increased, that marriage was the goal of their being; and inconsequence (though this was never definitely inculcated in words, butby a secret, indescribable influence), to esteem the favour of men asthe highest happiness, denying all the time that they thought so. 

We were three sisters. As children, it was deeply impressed upon us thatwe must love one another; but in consequence of partiality on the sideof our teachers, in consequence of praise and blame, rewards andpunishments, which magnified little trifles into importance, envy andbitterness were early sown among the sisters. It was said of my eldestsister and myself, that we were greatly attached to each other; that wecould not live asunder. We were cited as examples of sisterly love; andfrom constantly hearing this, we at last came to believe it. We werecompared to the carriage-horses of the family; and we were in the habit, almost of our own accord, of seating ourselves every day after dinner oneach side of our good father, who caressed us, and called us hiscarriage-horses. Yet, in fact, we did not pull together. My sister wasmore richly endowed by nature than I, and won favour more easily. Neverdid I envy a human being as I envied her, until in later years, andunder altered circumstances, I learned to love her rightly, and torejoice over her advantages. 

We were not very rich, and we cast a philosophically compassionateglance upon all who were richer than we, who lived in a more liberalmanner, had more splendid equipages, or who dressed themselves moreelegantly. "What folly--what pitiable vanity!" said we: "poor people, who know nothing better!" We never thought that our philosophy wassomewhat akin to the fox and the grapes. 

If we looked in this manner upon the advantages of the great, wedespised still more the pleasures of the crowd. (We ought to be soall-sufficient for ourselves. Ah, alas!) And if ever a theatrical piecewas much talked of and visited, we had a kind of pride in saying, withperfect indifference, that we never had seen it; and whenever there wasa popular festival, and the crowd went towards Haga or the Park, it wasquite as certain that our calesche--if it went out at all--would driveon the road to Sabbatsberg, or in some other direction equally desertedat the time; for all which, we prided ourselves on our philosophy. Yetwith all this in our hearts we really never were happy. 

The daughters came out into society. The parents wished to see themloved and wooed; the daughters wished it no less--but they were nothandsome--were dressed without any pretension. The parents saw verylittle company; and the daughters remained sitting at balls, and werenearly unobserved at suppers. Yet from year to year they slid on withthe stream. 

The daughters approached to ripened youth. The parents evidently wishedthem married; they wished it likewise, which was only natural, especially as at home they were not happy; and it must be confessed thatneither did they themselves do much to make it pleasant there. They werepeevish and discontented--no one knew exactly what to do or what shewanted; they groped about as if in a mist. 

It is customary to hear unmarried ladies say that they are satisfiedwith their condition, and do not desire to change it. In this pretensionthere lies more truth than people in general believe, particularly whenthe lively feelings of early youth are past. I have often found it so;and above all, wherever the woman, either in one way or another, hascreated for herself an independent sphere of action, or has found in acomfortable home that freedom, and has enjoyed that pure happiness oflife, which true friendship, true education, can give. 

A young lady of my acquaintance made what was with justice called agreat match, although love played but a subordinate part. As some onefelicitated her on her happiness, she replied, quite calmly, "Oh, yes!it is very excellent to possess something of one's own. " People smiledat her for her thus lightly esteeming what was universally regarded sogreat a good fortune; but her simple words, nevertheless, contain agreat and universal truth. It is this "one's own, " in the world, and inhis sphere of action, which every man unavoidably requires if he woulddevelop his own being, and win for himself independence and happiness, self-esteem, and the esteem of others. Even the nun has her own cell, where she can prepare herself in peace for heaven, and in which shepossesses her true home. But in social life, the unmarried woman hasoften not even a little cell which she can call her own; she goes like acloud of mist through life, and finds firm footing nowhere. Hence, therefore, are there often marriages the genuine children of necessity, which ought never to have taken place, and that deep longing after thedeep quiet of the grave, which is experienced by so many. But there isno necessity for this, and in times, in which the middle classes are somuch more enlightened, it becomes still less so; we need, indeed, onlycontemplate the masses of people who strive for a subsistence, thecrowds of neglected and uncared-for children that grow up in the world, in order to see that whatever is one-sided in the view of thedestination of woman vanishes more and more, and opens to her a freersphere of action. 

But I return to the _pros_ and _cons_ of my own life, one feature ofwhich I must particularly mention. If young ladies of our acquaintanceconnected themselves by marriage with men who were rather above thanbelow them in property or station, we considered it, without exception, reasonable and estimable. But if a man, whose connexions and prospectswere similar to our own, looked round him for a wife in our house, weconsidered it great audacity, and treated it accordingly. We weresecretly looking out for genteeler and richer individuals, who again, ontheir part, were looking out for genteeler and richer individuals thanwe. --N. B. This _looking-out_ in the great world is a very useful thing, both for gentlemen and ladies, although anybody who would be _naīve_enough to acknowledge as much, would not be greatly in favour eitherwith those who looked-out or those who did not. 

In the mean time, a spirit was developed within me, which full of livingenergy woke to the sense of its nonentity--to a sense of the enslavingcontradictions in which it moved, and to the most vehement desire tofree itself from them. As yet, however, I did not understand what I wasto do with my restless spirit. By contemplation, however, of noble worksof art, it appeared to me frequently that the enigma of my inner selfbecame clear to me. When I observed the antique vestal, so calm, soassured, and yet so gentle--when I saw how she stood, self-possessed, firm, and serene--I had a foretaste of the life which I needed, andsought after, both outwardly and inwardly, and I wept tears ofmelancholy longing. 

Tortured by the distorted circumstances (many of which I have notmentioned) under which I moved in my own family connexion, I began, asyears advanced, to come in contact with the world in a manner which, fora temper like mine, was particularly dangerous. 

We have heard of the daughters of the Husgafvel family, who grew oldyawning over the spinning-wheel and the weaving-stool; but, better so togrow old, yes, better a thousand times to grow grey over thespinning-wheel and the ashes of the cooking-stove, than with artificialflowers--oh, how artificial!--in the hair, on the benches of theball-room, or the seat of the supper-room, smiling over the world, whichsmiles over us no longer. This was the case with me. 

There are mild, unpretending beings, who bow themselves quietly underthe yoke which they cannot break; move, year after year, through thesocial circle, without any other object than to fill a place there--toornament or to disfigure a wall. Peace to such patient souls! There, too, are joyous, fresh, ever youthful natures, who, even to old age, andunder all circumstances, bring with them cheerfulness and new life intoevery circle in which they move. These belong to social life, and areits blessings. Many persons--and it is beautiful that it should beso--are of this description. I, however, belonged neither to the joyousand enlivening, nor yet to the patient and unpretending. On this accountI began to shun social life, which occasioned in me, still more andmore, a moral weariness; yet, nevertheless, I was driven into it, toavoid the disquiet and discomfort which I experienced at home. I was alabourer who concealed his desire for labour, who had buried his talentin the earth, as was the hereditary custom of the circle in which Ilived. 

The flower yields odour and delight to man, it nourishes the insect withits sweetness; the dewdrop gives strength to the leaf on which it falls. In the relationships in which I lived, I was less than the flower or thedewdrop; a being endowed with power and with an immortal soul! But Iawoke at the right time to a consciousness of my position. I say at theright time, because there may be a time when it is too late. There is atime when, under the weight of long wearisome years, the human soul hasbecome inflexible, and has no longer the power to raise itself from theslough into which it has sunk. 

I felt how I was deteriorating; I felt clearly how the unemployed anduninterested life which I led, nourished day after day new weeds in thewaste field of my soul. Curiosity, a desire for gossip, an inclinationto malice and scandal, and an increasing irritability of temper, beganto get possession of a mind which nature had endowed with too great adesire for action for it blamelessly to vegetate through a passive lifeas so many can. Ah! if people live without an object, they stand as itwere on the outside of active life, which gives strength to the inwardoccupation, even if no noble endeavour or sweet friendship give thatclaim to daily life which makes it occasionally, at least, a joy tolive; disquiet rages fiercely and tumultuously in the human breast, undermining health, temper, goodness, nay, even the quiet of conscience, and conjuring up all the spirits of darkness: so does the corroding rusteat into the steel-plate and deface its clear mirror with a tracery ofdisordered caricatures. 

I once read these words of that many-sided thinker, Steffen:--"He whohas no employment to which he gives himself with true earnestness, whichhe does not love as much as himself and all men, has not discovered thetrue ground on which Christianity even here brings forth fruit. Such anoccupation becomes a quiet and consecrated temple in all hours ofaffliction, into which the Saviour pours out his blessing; it unites uswith all other men, so that we can sympathise in their feelings, andmakes our actions and our wills administer to their wants; it teaches usrightly to weigh our own circumscribed condition and the worth ofothers. It is the true, firm, and fruit-bearing ground of realChristianity. "

These words came like a breath of air on glowing sparks. A light waskindled in my soul, and I knew now what I wanted, and what I ought todo. After I had well considered all this with myself, I spoke with myparents, and opened my whole heart to them. They were surprised, opposedme, and besought me to think better of it. I had foreseen this; but as Iadhered firmly and decidedly to my wishes and my prayers, they surprisedme by their kindness. 

I was very fond of children; my plan was, therefore, to beginhousekeeping for myself, and to undertake some work or occupation whichshould, by degrees, enable me to take two or three children, for whom Iwould provide, whom I would educate, and altogether adopt as my own. Iwas well persuaded that I needed many of the qualifications which make agood teacher; but I hoped that that new fountain of activity would, asit were, give to my whole being a new birth. My goodwill, my affectionfor children would, I believed, be helpful to make me a good guide tothem; and thus, though I could not become a wife, I might yet enjoy theblessing of a mother. 

"And why could you not--why could you not?" interrupted Elise. 

"People say, " returned Evelina, smiling, "that you had to make yourselection of a husband from many adorers; you cannot then understand acase in which there should not even be one choice. But truly, indeed, that was my case. But do not look at me so amazed--don't look at me asif I were guilty of high treason. The truth is, sweet Elise, that Inever had an opportunity to say either yes or no to a lover. With mysisters, who were much more agreeable and much more attractive than I, it was otherwise. "

But now I must return to that moment of my life when I released myselffrom every-day paths--but, thank God! not with violence, not amiddiscontent; but with the blessing of those who had given me life, forwhich I now, for the first time, blessed them. 

Touched by my steadfastness of purpose, and by the true goodwill whichthey had perceived in me, my parents determined--God reward them forit!--to bestow upon my desired domestic establishment the sum of moneywhich they had put aside for my dowry, in case I married. Indeed, theirand my sisters' kindness made them find pleasure in arranging all for mein the best and most comfortable manner; and when I left the paternalroof for my own new home, it was with tears of real pain. Yet I had tooclearly studied my own character and position to be undecided. 

It was a day in April, my thirtieth birthday, when, accompanied by myown family, I went to take possession of my new, small, but prettydwelling. Two young father-and-motherless girls, not quite withoutmeans, followed me to my new habitation. They were to become mychildren, I their mother. 

I never shall forget the first morning of my waking in my new abode. Atthis very moment it is as if I saw how the day dawned in the chamber;how all the objects gradually assumed, as it seemed to me, anunaccustomed definiteness. From the near church ascended the morninghymn with its pleasant serious melody, which attuned the soul toharmonious peace. I rose early; I had to care for house and children. All was cheerful and festival-like in my soul; a sweet emotionpenetrated me like the enlivening breeze of spring. Also without springbreathed. I saw the snow melt from the roofs, and fall down inglittering drops, yet never had I seen the morning light in them soclear as now. I saw the sparrows on the edge of the chimneys twitteringto greet the morning sun. I saw without, people going joyfully abouttheir employments: I saw the milk-woman going from door to door, and sheseemed to me more cheerful than any milk-woman I had ever seen before;and the milk seemed to me whiter and more nutritious than common. Itseemed to me as if I now saw the world for the first time. I fanciedeven myself to be altered as I looked in the glass; my eyes appeared tome larger; my whole appearance to have become better, and moreimportant. In the chamber near me the children awoke--the littleimmortals whom I was to conduct to eternal life. Yes, indeed, this was abeautiful morning! In it the world first beamed upon me, and at the sametime my own inner world, and I became of worth and consequence in my ownestimation. 

The active yet quiet life which I led from this time forth, suited meperfectly well. From this time I became more thoroughly in harmony withmyself, and altogether happier. The day was often wearisome, but thenthe evening rest was the sweeter, and the thought that I had passed auseful day refreshed my soul. The children gave me many cares, manytroubles; but they gave likewise an interest to my life, and happinessto my heart, and all the while, in pleasure and want, in joy and sorrow, they became dearer and dearer to me. I cannot imagine that children canbe dearer to their own mother than Laura and Karin are to me. 

In this new position I also became a better daughter, a more tendersister than I had hitherto been; and I could now cheer the old age of myparents far more than if I had remained an inactive and superfluousperson in their house. Now for the first time I had advantage of allthat was good in my education. Amid lively activity, and with a distinctobject in life, and in affectionate relationships, that which was vainand false fell gradually away from my disposition; and the knowledgewhich I had obtained, the truths which I had known, were productive inheart and deed since I had, so to say, struck root in life. 

 * * * * *

Evelina ceased. All had heard her with sympathy, but no one more thanErnst Frank. A new picture of life was opened to his view, and thetruest sympathy expressed itself on his manly features. He suffered bythis picture of so contracted a world, in so oppressive and gloomy acondition, and his thoughts already busied themselves with plans forbreaking open doors, for opening windows in these premises, to free thisoppressed and captive life. 

"Ah, yes!" said Mrs. Gunilla, with a gentle sigh, "everybody here inthis world has their difficult path, but if every one walks in the fearand admonition of the Lord, all arrive in the end at their home. OurLord God helps us all!" And Mrs. Gunilla took a large pinch of snuff. 

"Don't forget the _Orbis Pictus_, " exclaimed she to Elise, who with herhusband was preparing to go; "don't forget it, and let the children beeducated from it, that they may observe how the soul looks. He, he, he, he!"

CHAPTER XIV. 

THE ORPHAN. 

The day was declining, and Ernst and Elise sate in one of the parlourwindows. Mutual communications received with mutual sympathy, had madethem have joy in each other--had let them feel at peace with life. Theywere now silent; but a presentiment that for the future they should beever happier with each other, like a harmonious tone, responded in theirhearts, and brightened their countenances. In the mean time, the shadowsof evening began to grow broader, and a soft rain pattered on thewindow. The sonorous voice of the Candidate, as he told stories to thechildren, interrupted occasionally by their questions and exclamations, was heard in the saloon. A feeling of home-peace came over the heart ofthe father; he took the hand of his wife affectionately between his, andlooked joyfully into her gentle countenance, whilst she was projectinglittle domestic arrangements. In the midst of this sense of happiness acloud suddenly passed over the countenance of the Judge, and tearsfilled his eyes. 

"What is it, Ernst?--what is amiss, Ernst?" asked his wife tenderly, whilst she wiped away the tears with her hand. "Nothing, " said he, "butthat I feel how happy we are. I see you, I hear our children withoutthere, and I cannot but think on that unfortunate child opposite, whichwill be ruined in that wretched home. "

"Ah, yes!" sighed Elise; "God help all unfortunate little ones on theearth!"

Both cast their eyes involuntarily towards the nearest window of thebefore-mentioned house. Something was moving before the window; a femalefigure mounted on the window ledge, a dark child's head peeped out frombetween her feet, was kicked away, and a large white cloth, which wasquickly unrolled, hid all within. 

"He is dead!" said both husband and wife, looking at each other. 

The Judge sent over to inquire how it was; the messenger returned withthe tidings that Mr. N. Had been dead some hours. 

Lights were now kindled behind the blind, and people appeared to be busywithin the chamber. The Judge walked up and down his room, evidentlymuch affected. "The poor child!--the poor little girl! what will becomeof her? Poor child!" were his broken exclamations. 

Elise read the soul of her husband. She had now for some time, inconsequence of a wish which she had perceived in his heart, accustomedherself to a thought, which yet at this moment her lips seemed unwillingto express: "Ernst, " at length, suppressing a sigh, she began, "the potwhich boils for six little mouths will boil also for seven. "

"Do you think so?" asked he, with pleasure, and with beaming eyes. Heembraced his wife tenderly, placed her beside him, and inquired--"Haveyou proved your own strength? The heaviest part of this adoption wouldrest upon you. Yet if you feel that you have courage to undertake it, you would fulfil the wish of my heart. "

"Ernst, " said she, repressing a tear, "my strength is small, and nobodyknows that better than you do; but my will is good;--I will undertakethe trouble--you will support me?"

"Yes, we will help one another, " said he, rising up joyfully. "Thankyou, Elise--thank you, my sweet friend, " continued he, kissing her handaffectionately. "Shall I go to fetch the child immediately?--but perhapsit will not come with me. "

"Shall I go with you?"

"You!" said he; "but it gets dark--it rains. "

"We can take an umbrella, " replied she; "and besides that, I will put ona wrapping cloak, and will soon be ready. "

Elise went to dress herself, and her husband went to help her, put onher cloak for her, and paid her a thousand little affectionateattentions. 

After Elise had given sundry orders to Brigitta, she and her husbandbetook themselves to the house, whilst the children set their littleheads together full of curiosity and wonder. 

The two crossed the street in wind and rain; and after they had ascendedthe dark staircase, they arrived at the room which Mr. N. Had inhabited. The door stood half open; a small candle, just on the point of goingout, burned within, spreading an uncertain and tremulous light overeverything. No living creature was visible within the room, which had adesolate, and, as one might say, stripped appearance, so naked did itseem. The dead man lay neglected on his bed, near to which was no traceof anything which might have mitigated the last struggle. A clothcovered his face. Ernst Frank went towards the bed, and softly raisingthe cloth, observed for a moment silently the terrible spectacle, feltthe pulse of the deceased, and then covering again the face, returnedsilently, with a pale countenance, to his wife. 

"Where can we find the child?" said she, hastily. They lookedsearchingly around; a black shadow, in a human form, seemed to moveitself in one corner of the room. It was the orphan who sate there, likea bird of night, pressing herself close to the wall. Elise approachedher, and would have taken her in her arms, when the child suddenlyraised her hand, and gave her a fierce blow. Elise drew back astonished, and then, after a moment, approached again the half-savage girl withfriendly words; again she made a threatening demonstration, but herhands were suddenly grasped by a strong manly hand, and a look soserious and determined was riveted upon her, that she trembled beforeit, and resigned herself to the power of the stronger. 

The Judge lifted her up, and set her on his knee, whilst she trembledviolently. 

"Do not be afraid of us, " said Elise, caressingly; "we are your goodfriends. If you will come with me this evening to my little children, you shall have sweet milk and wheaten bread with them, and then sleep ina nice little bed with a rose-coloured coverlet. "

The white milk, the rose-coloured coverlet, and Elise's gentle voice, seemed to influence the child's mind. 

"I would willingly go with you, " said she, "but what will my father saywhen he wakes?"

"He will be pleased, " said Elise, wrapping a warm shawl about theshoulders of the child. 

At that moment a sound was heard on the stairs; little Sara uttered afaint cry of terror, and began to tremble anew. Mr. N. 's housekeeperentered, accompanied by two boys. The Judge announced to her hisdetermination to take the little Sara, as well as the effects of herdeceased father, under his care. At mention of the last word, the womanbegan to fume and swear, and the Judge was obliged to compel her tosilence by severe threats. He then sent one of the boys for theproprietor of the house, and after he had in his presence taken allmeasures for the security of the effects of the deceased, he took thelittle Sara in his arms, wrapped her in his cloak, and, accompanied byhis wife, went out. 

All this time an indescribable curiosity reigned among the littleFranks. Their mother had said, in going out, that perhaps, on herreturn, she should bring them another sister. It is impossible to saythe excitement this occasioned, and what was conjectured and counselledby them. The Candidate could not satisfy all the questions which werelet loose upon him. In order, therefore, somewhat to allay theirfermentation, he sent them to hop through the room like crows, placinghimself at the head of the train. A flock of real crows could not havefluttered away with greater speed than did they as the saloon dooropened and the father and mother entered. Petrea appeared curious inthe highest degree, as her father, opening his wide cloak, softly setdown something which, at the first moment, Petrea, with terror, took fora chimney-sweeper; but which, on closer inspection, seemed to be a verynice thin girl of about nine years old, with black hair, darkcomplexion, and a pair of uncommonly large black eyes, which lookedalmost threateningly on the white and bright-haired little ones whichsurrounded her. 

"There, you have another sister, " said the father, leading the childrentowards each other;--"Sara, these are your sisters--love one another, and be kind to one another, my children. "

The children looked at each other, somewhat surprised; but as Henrik andLouise took the little stranger by the hand, they soon all emulated eachother in bidding her welcome. 

Supper was served up for the children, more lights were brought in, andthe scene was lively. Everything was sacrificed to the new comer. Louisebrought out for her two pieces of confectionery above a year old, and abox in which they might be preserved yet longer. 

Henrik presented her with a red trumpet, conferring gratuitousinstruction on the art of blowing it. 

Eva gave her her doll Josephine in its new gauze dress. 

Leonore lighted her green and red wax tapers before the dark-eyed Sara. 

Petrea--ah, Petrea!--would so willingly give something with her wholeheart. She rummaged through all the places where she kept anything, butthey concealed only the fragments of unlucky things; here a doll withoutarms; here a table with only three legs; here two halves of a sugar-pig;here a dog without head and tail. All Petrea's playthings, inconsequence of experiments which she was in the habit of making on them, were fallen into the condition of that which had been--and even thatgingerbread-heart with which she had been accustomed to decoy Gabriele, had, precisely on this very day, in an unlucky moment of curiosity, gonedown Petrea's throat. Petrea really possessed nothing which was fit tomake a gift of. She acknowledged this with a sigh; her heart was tilledwith sadness, and tears were just beginning to run down her cheeks, whenshe was consoled by a sudden idea--The Girl and the Rose-bush! Thatjewel she still possessed; it hung still, undestroyed, framed and behindglass, over her bed, and fastened by a bow of blue ribbon. Petreahesitated only a moment; in the next she had clambered up to her littlebed, taken down the picture, and hastened now with beaming eyes andglowing cheeks to the others, in order to give away the very loveliestthing she had, and to declare solemnly that now "Sara was the possessorof the Girl and the Rose-bush. "

The little African appeared very indifferent about the sacrifice whichthe little European had made to her. She received it, it is true, butshe soon laid it down again without caring any more about it, whichoccasioned Louise to propose that she should keep it for her. 

In the midst of these little occurrences the Assessor came in. He lookedwith an inquisitive glance round the room, showed his white teeth, andsaid to himself, "Yes, it's all right; it is what I expected. So, indeed, " added he aloud, in his angry manner, whilst he cordially shookthe hand of his friend, "I see you thought you had not children enoughof your own in the house, but you must drag in those of other people!How many do you mean to burden yourselves with? Will there not beanother to-morrow? Were you not satisfied with a whole half-dozen girlsof your own? And what will become of them? One shall presently not beable to get into the house for children! I suppose that you have such asuperfluity of money and property, that you must go and squander it onothers! Nay! good luck to you!--good luck to you!"

The Judge and his wife replied only by smiles to the grumbling of theirfriend, and by the request that he would spend the evening with them. But he said he had not time; and then, after he had laid large pears, which he took from his pocket, under the napkins on the children'splates, he went out. 

Every one of those pears had its own distinctive sign: round Sara's wasa gold-coloured ribbon; and upon her plate, under the pear, was found abank-note of considerable value. It was his gift to the fatherless, yethe never would acknowledge it. That was his way. 

As the mother took Sara by the hand, in order to conduct her to rest, Petrea had the indescribable delight of seeing that, from all the littlepresents which had been made to her, she only took with her the girl andthe rose-bush, which she appeared to regard with pleasure. 

Sara was seized with violent grief in the comfortable bedroom; tearsstreamed with wonderful violence from her eyes, and she called loudlyfor her father. Elise held her quietly in her arms, and let her weep outher grief on her bosom, and then gently undressing her, and laying theweary child in bed, had the pleasure of feeling how affectionately sheclasped her arms around her neck. 

The girl and the rose-bush hung over her bed, but still there seemed tobe no rest on the snow-white couch for the "little African. " Her darkeyes glanced wildly about the room, and her hands grasped convulsivelyElise's white dress. 

"Don't go, " whispered she, "or else they will come and murder me. "

Elise took the child's hands in hers, and repeated a simple and piouslittle prayer, which she had taught to all her own children. Sara saidthe words after her; and though it was only mechanically, she seemed tobecome calmer, though shudderings still shook her frame, and she holdfast by Elise's dress. Elise seated herself by her, and at the requestof the other children, "Mother, sing the song of the Dove--oh, the songof the Dove!" she sang, with a pleasant low voice, that little songwhich she herself had made for her children:

 There sitteth a dove so white and fair, All on the lily-spray, And she listeneth how, to Jesus Christ, The little children pray. 

 Lightly she spreads her friendly wings, And to heaven's gate hath sped, And unto the Father in heaven she bears The prayers which the children said. 

 And back she comes from heaven's gate, And brings--that dove so mild-- From the Father in heaven, who hears her speak, A blessing for every child. 

 Then, children, lift up a pious prayer, It hears whatever you say, That heavenly dove, so white and fair, That sits on the lily-spray. 

During this song, the dove of peace descended on the soul of the child. Pleasant images passed before her mind: the girl and the rose-bush andthe singing Elise were the same person--the rose diffused pleasantodour; and whilst the long dark lashes approached her cheek yet nearerand nearer, it seemed to her as if a white lovely singing-bird spreadout his wings caressingly and purifyingly over her breast. By degreesthe little hand opened itself, and let go the dress which it hadgrasped, the tearful eyes closed, and the sweetness of repose came overthe fatherless and the motherless. 

Elise raised herself gently, and went to the beds of the other children. The dove on the lily-spray sent sleep also to them; and after the motherhad pressed her lips to their cheeks, had spoken with Brigitta about thenew comer, and had received from the child-loving, good-natured oldwoman, the most satisfactory promises, she hastened back to her husband. 

He listened with curiosity to what she had to relate of Sara. This newmember of the family, this increase of his cares, seemed to haveexpanded and animated his soul. His eyes beamed with a gentle emotion ashe spoke of the future prospects of the children. Evelina's history, which was still fresh in his and Elise's mind, seemed to spur him on tocall forth for his family quite another picture of life. 

"We will bring up our children, " said he warmly, "not for ourselves, butfor themselves. We will seek for their good, for their happiness; wewill rightly consider what may conduce to this, as much for one child asfor another; we will endeavour to win and to maintain their fullconfidence; and should there, dear Elise, be any harshness or severityin me, which would repel the children from me, you must assist me; lettheir secret desires and cares come to me through you!"

"Yes! where else could they go?" returned she, with the deepest feeling;"you are my support, my best strength in life! Without you how weakshould I be!"

"And without you, " said he, "my strength would become sternness. Naturegave me a despotic disposition. I have had, and have still, many timesthe greatest difficulty to control it; but with God's help I shallsucceed! My Elise, we will improve ever. On the children's account, inorder to make them happy, we will endeavour to ennoble our own nature. "

"Yes, that we will, Ernst!" said she; "and may the peace in the housemake betimes the spirit of peace familiar to their bosoms!"

"We will make them happy, " began the father again, with yet increasingwarmth; "with God's help, not one of them shall wander through lifeunhappy and infirm of spirit. My little girls! you shall not grow uplike half-formed human beings; no illusions shall blind your eyes towhat are the true riches of life; no noble desires shall you experienceunsatisfied. Ah, life is rich enough to satisfy all the birds underheaven, and no one need be neglected on earth! Your innocent life shallnot fail of strength and joy; you shall live to know the actuality oflife, and that will bring a blessing on every day, interest on everymoment, and importance on every occupation. It will give you repose andindependence in sorrow and in joy, in life and in death!"

Whilst Elise listened to these words, she felt as if a refreshing breezepassed through her soul. Nothing more seemed to her difficult. All thetroubles of life seemed light, on account of the bright end to beattained. And then, as she thought on the manly warm heart which livedso entirely for her good and the children's, she felt a proud joy thatshe could look up to her husband; and at the same time a sense ofhumility slid into her heart, she bowed herself over his hand, andkissed it fervently. 

This did not please the Judge, because, like every other decided andpowerful man, it gratified him rather to pay homage to woman than, atleast by outward bearing, to receive homage from her. He thereforewithdrew his hand with some displeasure. 

"Why may I not kiss your hand, " inquired Elise, "if it give mepleasure?"

"Because it gives me no pleasure, and you must not do it again. "

"Well, well, dear friend, you need not forbid it so sternly. Perhaps Ishall never again have the desire to do it. "

"All the better, " said he. 

"Perhaps not!" returned Elise. "But let us now go to rest. "

PART II. 

CHAPTER I. 

THE NEW HOUSE. 

"Farewell, oh house of my childhood! Farewell, you walls, insensiblewitnesses of my first tears, my first smiles, and my first false stepson the slippery path of life--of my first acquaintance with water-grueland A B C! Thou corner, in which I stood with lessons difficult to belearned; and thou, in which I in vain endeavoured to tame the mostthankless of all created things, a fly and a caterpillar!--you floors, which have sustained me sporting and quarrelling with my beloved brotherand sisters!--you papers, which I have torn in my search after imaginedtreasures;--you, the theatre of my battles with carafts anddrinking-glasses--of my heroic actions in manifold ways, I bid you along farewell, and go to live in new scenes of action--to have newadventures and new fate!"

Thus spake Petrea Frank, whilst, with dignified gestures, she took atragic-comic farewell of the home which she and her family were nowabout to leave. 

It was a rainy day, in the middle of April. A black silk cloak, calledmerrily the "Court-preacher, " a piece of property held in common by theFrank family, and a large red umbrella, called likewise the"Family-roof, " which was common property too, were on this day seen inactive promenade on the streets of the city of X----. What all thispassing to and fro denoted might probably be conjectured if one had seenthem accompanied by a tall, fair, blue-eyed maid-servant, and a littlebrown, active, servant-man, carrying bandboxes, baskets, packages, etc. , etc. 

Towards twilight might have been seen, likewise, the tall thin figure ofJeremias Munter, holding the "family-roof" over the heads of himself andPetrea Frank. Petrea seemed to be carrying something under her cloak, laughed and talked, and she and the Assessor seemed to be very muchpleased with each other. Alas! this satisfaction did not endure long;on the steps of the front-door Petrea accidentally trod on the danglinglace of her boot, made a false step, and fell. A large paper case ofconfectionery suddenly proceeded from under the "court-preacher, " andalmond-wreaths, "brown sugar-candy, and iced fruits rolled in alldirections. Even amid the shock and the confusion of the first moment itwas with difficulty that Petrea restrained a loud laugh from burstingforth when she saw the amazement of the Assessor, and the leaps which hemade, as he saw the confections hopping down the steps towards thegutter. It was the Assessor's own tribute to the festival of the daywhich was thus unluckily dispersed abroad. 

"Yes, indeed, if there were no ladies, " said the Assessor, vexed, "oneshould be able to accomplish something in this world. But now they mustbe coming and helping, and on that account things always go topsy-turvy. 'Let me only do it--let me only manage it, ' say they; and they manageand make it, so that----'Did one ever see anything so foolish!--To fallover your foot-lace!'--but women have order in nothing; and yet peopleset up such to govern kingdoms!--To govern kingdoms!!! I would asknothing more from them than that they should govern their feet, and keeptheir boot and shoe strings tied. But from the queen down to thecharwoman, there is not a woman in this world who knows how to fastenher boot-lace!"

Such was the philippic of Jeremias Munter, as he came into the room withPetrea, and saw, after the great shipwreck, that which remained of theconfectionery. Petrea's excuses, and her prayers for forgiveness, couldnot soften his anger. True it is, that an unfortunate disposition tolaugh, which overcame her, gave to all her professions of distress avery doubtful appearance. Her distress, however, for all that, was real;and when Eva came, and said, with a beseeching, flattering voice, "Dearuncle, do not be angry any longer; poor Petrea is really quite castdown--besides which she really has hurt her knee, " the good man repliedwith a very different voice:

"But has she, indeed? But why are people so clumsy--so given to trippingand stumbling, that one----"

"One can get some more confections at any time, " said Eva. 

"Can one!" exclaimed Jeremias; "do they grow on trees, then? How? Shallone then throw away one's money for confectionery, in order to see itlie about the streets? Pretty management that would be, methinks!"

"Yet just say one kind word to Petrea, " besought Eva. 

"A kind word!" repeated Jeremias: "I would just tell her that anothertime she should be so good as to fasten her shoestrings. Nay, I will gonow after some more confectionery; but only on your account, little MissEva. Yes, yes; say I--I will now go: I can dance also, if it befor----But how it rains! lend me the 'family-roof, ' and the cloak thereI need also. Give it here handsomely! Well then, what is there to gapeat? How! will the people gape at me?--all very good; if it gives themany pleasure, they may laugh at me, I shall not find myself any theworse for it. Health and comfort are above all things, and one dress isjust as good as another. "

The young girls laughed, and threw the "court-preacher, " which hardlyreached to his knees, over the shoulders of the Assessor; and thusapparelled he went forth with long strides. 

The family had this day removed into a new house. Judge Frank had boughtit, together with a small garden, for the lifetime of himself and hiswife, and for the last two years he had been pulling down, building up, repairing, and arranging: some doors he had built up, others he hadopened, till all was as convenient and as comfortable as he wished. Hiswife, in full confidence, had left all to his good judgment, wellpleased for her own part to be spared the noise of bricklayers andcarpenters, which she escaped not without difficulty; to be spared fromgoing among shavings and under scaffoldings, and from clambering overtroughs full of mortar, etc. Papers for the walls and other ornamentalthings had been left to the choice of herself and her daughters. 

And now he went, full of pleasure, with his wife's arm in his, from onestory to another, and from one room into another, greatly pleased withthe convenient, spacious, and cheerful-looking habitation, and yet evenmore so with his wife's lively gratification in all his work. And thusshe was obliged to promenade through the whole house, from the cellar upto the roof; into the mangling-room, the wood-chamber, etc. 

We will not weary the reader by following them in this promenade, butmerely make him acquainted with some of the rooms in which he will oftenmeet the family. We merely pass through the saloon and best parlour;they were handsome, but resembled all such apartments; but the roomwhich the Judge had arranged with the most especial love, which wasdesigned for daily use, and as the daily assembling place of the family, and which deserves our most intimate acquaintance, was the library, socalled. It was a large, very lively room, with three windows on one sidelooking into a spacious market-place. Louise rejoiced especially overthis, for thus they could look out of the windows on market-days, andsee at once what they wished to buy; directly opposite lay the church, with its beautiful churchyard well planted with trees; these objectspleased Elise greatly. The side of the room opposite to the windows wasentirely covered with books; the shelves consisted of several divisions, each one of which contained the literature of a different country. Inniches between the several divisions stood, on simple but tastefulpedestals, busts of distinguished men, great for their heroic andpeaceful actions--standing there, said the Judge, not because theyseparated the different nations of the earth, but because they unitedthem. Ernst Frank's library was truly a select one; it had been thepleasure of his life, and still it was his delight to be increasing hiscollection of book's. Now, for the first time, they were collected andarranged all in one place. He rejoiced over these treasures, andbesought his daughters freely to make use of them (on this one expresscondition, that every book should be restored again to its right place). To Louise was consigned the office of librarian; to Petrea that ofamanuensis. Both mother and daughters were delighted with this room, andbegan to consider where the work-table, the flower-table, and thebird-cage should stand, and when all were arranged, they were found tosuit their places admirably. Against one of the short walls stood thegreen sofa, the appointed place for the mother; and against the oppositeone the piano, and the harp, which was Sara's favourite instrument, together with a guitar, whose strings were touched by Eva, as she sang"Mamma mia. "

An agreeable surprise awaited Elise as she was led through a curtaineddoor which conducted from the library into a sort of boudoir, whose onewindow had the same prospect as the library--this was solely andentirely her own consecrated room. She saw with emotion that thetasteful furniture of the room was the work of her daughters; herwriting-table stood by the window; several beautiful pictures and aquantity of very pretty china adorned the room. Elise saw, with thankfuldelight, that all her favourite tastes, and all her little fancies, hadbeen studied and gratified both by husband and children. 

A small curtained door, likewise, on the other side, conducted Eliseinto her sleeping-room; and her husband made her observe how smoothlythese doors turned on their hinges, and how easily she, from eitherside, could lock herself in and remain in quiet. 

After this room, nothing gave Elise greater delight than thearrangements for bathing, which the Judge had made particularlyconvenient and comfortable; and he now turned the white taps withremarkable pleasure, to exhibit how freely the warm water came out ofthis, and the cold--no, out of this came the warm water, and out of theother the cold. The cheerfulness and comfort of the whole arrangementwere intended to give to the bathing-day--which was almost asreligiously observed in this family as the Sunday--a double charm. In aroom adjoining that which was appropriated to dressing, the old cleanlyBrigitta had already her fixed residence. Here was she and the greatlinen-press to grow old together. Here ticked her clock, and purred hercat; here blossomed her geraniums and balsams, with the Bible andPrayer-book lying between them. 

The three light and pleasant rooms intended for the daughters lay in thestory above, and were simply but prettily furnished. 

"Here they will feel themselves quite at home, " said the father, as helooked round with beaming eyes; "don't you think so, Elise? We will makehome so pleasant to our children that they shall not wish to leave itwithout a really important and deserving cause. No disquiet, nodiscontent with home and the world within it, shall drive them from thepaternal roof. Here they can have leisure and quiet, and be often alone, which is a good thing. Such moments are needed by every one in order tostrengthen and collect themselves, and are good for young girls as wellas for any one else. "

The mother gave her applause fully and cordially; but immediatelyafterwards she was a little absent, for she had something of importanceto say to her eldest daughter; and as at that very moment Louise camein, an animated conversation commenced between them, of which thefollowing reached the father's ear:

"And after them, pancakes; and, my good girl, take care that six of themare excellently thick and savoury; you know, indeed, how Henrik likesthem. "

"And should we not, " suggested Louise, "have whipped cream and raspberryjam with the pancakes?"

"Yes, with pleasure, " returned the mother, --"Jacobi would unquestionablyrecommend that. "

Louise blushed, and the Judge besought with animation that there mightbe something a little more substantial than "angels' food" for supper, which was promised him. 

The Assessor shook out the "family-roof" in the hall in indignation. "The most miserable roof in all Christendom, " said he; "it defendsneither from wind nor rain, and is as heavy as the ark! and----"

But at the very moment when he was shaking and scolding his worst, heperceived a sound----exclamations and welcomes, in every possiblevariety of joyous and cordial tones. The "court-preacher" was thrownhead and shoulders over the "family-roof, " and with great leaps hastenedJeremias forward to shake hands with the son and the friend of thehouse, who were just now returned home from the University. 

Tokens of condolement mingled themselves with welcomes andfelicitations. 

"How wet, and pale, and cold you are!"

"Oh, we have had a magnificent shower!" said Henrik, shaking himself, and casting a side glance on Jacobi, who looked both downcast anddoleful in his wet apparel. "Such weather as this is quite an affair ofmy own. In wind and rain one becomes so--I don't know rightly how--doyou, _mon cher_?"

"A jelly, a perfect jelly!" said Jacobi, in a mournful voice; "how canone be otherwise, knocked about in the most infamous of peasant-cars, and storm, and pouring rain, so that one is perfectly battered andmelted! Hu, hu, u, u, u, uh!"

"Oh, according to my opinion, " said Henrik, laughing heartily at thegestures of his travelling companion, "it is a hardening sort ofweather; there is a proud exalting feeling in it, sitting there quitecalm under the raging of the elements; especially when one looks downfrom one's elevation on other fellow-mortals, who go lamenting, and fullof anxiety, under their umbrellas. Thus one sits on one's car as on athrone; nay, indeed, one gets quite a flattering idea of oneself, as ifone were a little, tiny philosopher. Apropos! I bethink myself now, asif we had seen, as we came this way, a philosopher in a lady's cloakwalking hither. But, how are you all, sweet, sweet sisters? How long itis since I saw you!" and he pressed their hands between his cold and wetones. 

This scene, which took place in twilight, was quickly brought to an endby the ladies resolutely driving the gentlemen out to their own chamberto change their clothes. Jacobi, it is true, on his own account, did notrequire much driving, and Louise found Henrik's philosophy on thisoccasion not so fully adopted. Louise had already taken care that a goodblazing fire should welcome the travellers in their chamber. 

In the mean time, the ladies quartered themselves in the library; lightswere kindled, the table spread; the Judge helped all, and was highlydelighted if people only called to him. The Assessor looked enraptured, as Eva arranged his confections on little plates. Petrea did not ventureto look at them, much less to touch them. 

"By Jove, my dear girls, how comfortable it is here!" exclaimed theJudge in the joy of his heart, as he saw the library thus peopled, andin its for-the-future every-day state. "Are you comfortable there, onthe sofa, Elise? Let me get you a footstool. No; sit still, my friend!what are men for in the world?"

The Candidate--we beg his pardon, the Master of Arts, Jacobi--appearedno longer to be the same person who had an hour before stood there inhis wet dress, as he made his appearance, handsomely apparelled, withhis young friend, before the ladies, and his countenance actually beamedwith delight at the joyful scene which he there witnessed. 

People now examined one another nearer. They discovered that Henrik hadbecome considerably paler as well as thinner, which Henrik received as acompliment to his studies. Jacobi wished also a compliment on hisstudies, but it was unanimously refused to him on account of hisblooming appearance. He protested that he was flushed with the weather, but that availed nothing. Louise thought privately to herself thatJacobi had decidedly gained in manly bearing; that he had a simpler andmore vigorous demeanour; he was become, she thought, a little more likeher father. Her father was Louise's ideal of manly perfection. 

Little Gabriele blushed deeply, and half hid herself behind her mother, as her brother addressed her. 

"How is your highness, my most gracious Princess Turandotte!" said he;"has your highness no little riddle at hand with which to confuse weakheads?"

Her little highness looked in the highest degree confused, and tried towithdraw the hand which her brother kissed again and again. Gabriele wasquite bashful before the tall student. 

Henrik had a little _tęte-ā-tęte_ with every sister, but it was somewhatshort and cold with Sara; after which he seated himself by his mother, took her hand in his, and a lively and general conversation began, whilst Eva handed about the confectionery. 

"But what is amiss now?" asked Henrik, suddenly. "Why have the sistersall left us to take council together there, with such importantjudge-like faces? Is the nation in danger? May not I go, in order tosave the native land?--If one could only first of all have eaten one'ssupper in peace, " added he, speaking aside, after the manner of thestage. 

But it was precisely about the supper that they were talking. There wasa great danger that the pancakes would not succeed; and Louise could notprevent Henrik and Jacobi running down into the kitchen, where, to thegreatest amusement of the young ladies, and to the tragi-comic despairof the cook, they acted their parts as cooks so ridiculously that Louisewas obliged at length, with an imposing air, to put an end to thelaughter, to the joking, and to the burnt pancakes, in order that sheherself might put her hand to the work. Under her eye all went well; thepancakes turned out excellently. Jacobi besought one from her own hand, as wages for his work; graciously obtained it, and then swallowed thehot gift with such rapture that it certainly must have burnt himinwardly, had it not been for another species of warmth (which weconsider very probable)--a certain well-known spiritual fire, whichcounteracted the material burning, and made it harmless. Have we nothere, in all simplicity, suggested something of a homoeopathic nature?

But we will leave the kitchen, that we may seat ourselves with thefamily at the supper-table, where the mother's savoury, white pancakes, and the thick ones for Henrik, were found to be most excellent, andwhere the "angels' food" was devoured with the greatest earthlyenjoyment. 

After this, they drank the health of the travellers, and sang a merrylittle song, made by Petrea. The father was quite pleased with hisPetrea, who, quite electrified, sang too with all her might, althoughnot with a most harmonious voice, which, however, did not annoy herfather's somewhat unmusical ear. 

"She sings louder than they all, " said he to his wife, who wasconsiderably less charmed than he with Petrea's musical accompaniment. 

Although every one in the company had had an exciting and fatiguing day, the young people began immediately after supper, as if according to anatural law, to arrange themselves for the dance. 

Jacobi, who appeared to be captivated by Sara's appearance, led her inthe magic circle of the waltz. 

"Our sensible little Queen-bee, " a rather broad-set, but very well-grownblonde of eighteen, distinguished herself in the dance by her beautifulsteps, and her pleasing though rather too grave carriage. Everybody, however, looked with greater admiration on Eva, because she danced withheart and soul. Gabriele, with her golden curls, flew round like abutterfly. But who did not dance this evening?--Everybody was actuallyenthusiastic--for all were infected with the joyous animal spirits ofHenrik. Even Jeremias Munter, to the amazement of everybody, led Eva, with most remarkable skill, through the Polska, [4] the most artificialand perplexing of dances. 

It was only at midnight that the dance was discontinued, at thesuggestion of Elise. But before they separated, the Judge begged hiswife to sing the well-known little song--"The First Evening in the NewHouse. " She sang it in her simple, soul-touching manner, and the joyfull of peace which this song breathed penetrated every heart; even thegrave countenance of the Judge gleamed with an affectionate emotion. Aquiet glory appeared to rest on the family, and beautified allcountenances; for it is given to song, like the sun, to throw itsglorifying light upon all human circumstances, and to lend them beauty, at least for a moment. "The spinner, " and "the aged man by theroad-side, " are led by song into the kingdom of beauty, even as they areby the Gospel into the kingdom of heaven. 

On taking leave for the night, all agreed upon a rendezvous the nextmorning after breakfast in the orchard, in order to see what was to bemade of it. 

The father conducted the daughters up into their chambers. He wanted tosee yet once more how they looked, and inquired from them again andagain--"Are you satisfied, my girls? Do they please you? Would you wishanything besides? If you wish anything, speak out right Swedishly. "

As now his daughters, assuring him of their contentment, gratefully andaffectionately hung about him, there was not a happier man on the faceof the earth than Judge Frank. 

The mother, on her part, had taken her first-born with her into herlittle boudoir. She had as yet not been able to speak one word to himalone. Now she questioned him on everything, small and great, whichconcerned him, and how freely and entirely he opened his whole heart toher!

They talked of the circumstances of the family; of the purchase of thisnew property; of the debt which they had thereby contracted; of themeans through which, by degrees, it would be paid off, and of thenecessity there was for greater economy on all sides. They talked, too, of the daughters of the house. 

"Louise is superb, " said Henrik, "but her complexion is rather muddy;could she not use some kind of wash for it? She would be so muchhandsomer if she had a fresher complexion; and then she looks, the leastin the world, cathedral-like. What a solemn air she had to-night, asJacobi made some polite speech to her! Do you know, mother, I think thesisters sit too much; it is in that way that people get such gravecathedral-like looks. We must make them take more exercise; we must findout some lively exhilarative exercise for them. And Eva! how she isgrown, and how kind and happy she looks! It is a real delight to seeher--one can actually fall in love with her! But what in all the worldis to be done with Petrea's nose? It does, indeed, get so large andlong, that I cannot tell what is to be done! It is a pity, though, forshe is so good-hearted and merry. And Leonore! How sickly and unhappyshe looks at times! We must endeavour to cheer her up. "

"Yes, that we will, " said the mother; "if she were but healthy, we couldsoon manage that; but how does little Gabriele please you?"

"Ah! she is very lovely, with her high-bred little airs--quitefascinating, " said Henrik. 

"And Sara!" asked she. 

"Yes, " said he, "she is lovely--very lovely, I think; but still there issomething, at least to my taste, very unpleasant in her. She is not likemy sisters; there is something about her so cold, so almost repulsive. "

"Yes, " said the mother, sighing; "there is at times something veryextraordinary about her, more particularly of late. I fear that acertain person has too great, and that not a happy, influence over her. But Sara is a richly gifted and truly interesting girl, out of whomsomething very good may be made, if--if----She gives us, indeed, anxietyat times, for we are as much attached to her as if she were our ownchild. She has a most extraordinary talent for music--you must hear her. There really is much that is very distinguished and truly amiable inher; you will see it, as you remain so much longer time with us. "

"Yes, thank God!" said Henrik, "I can now reckon on that, on remainingsome months at home. "

The conversation now turned on Henrik's future prospects. His fatherwished him to devote himself to mining, and with this end in view he hadstudied, but he felt ever, more and more, a growing inclination toanother profession, and this had become a ground of dissatisfaction inthe family. The mother now besought her first-born to prove himselfcarefully and seriously before he deserted the path to which his fatherwas attached, and which Henrik himself had selected in common councilwith his father. Henrik promised this solemnly. His soul was warm andnoble. His young heart possessed every fine sentiment, a pure enthusiasmfor virtue and for his country, a glowing desire to live for them, thisbelonged to his heart in the richest measure. The wish to be useful tothe community generally, united itself with all his views ofself-advantage, and he only saw his own prosperity in connexion withthat of his family. These thoughts and sentiments poured themselvesforth in that sweet confidential hour freely and fully to hismother--the happy mother, whose heart beat with joy and with proudesthope of her first-born, the favourite of her soul, her summer child!

"And when I have made my own way in the world, " added Henrik, joyfullykissing the hand of his mother, "and have a house of my own, then, mother, you shall come to me, and live with me, will you not?"

"And what would your father say to that?" said she, in a tone like hisown. 

"Oh! he has all the sisters who can keep house for him, " said Henrik, "and----"

"Do you intend to sit up here the whole night?" asked a voice at thedoor. It was the voice of the Judge, and both mother and son rose up asif they had been caught in the fact of conspiracy. The conspiracy, however, was immediately imparted to the Judge, whereupon he declaredthat all this would lead to such fearful consequences that they hadbetter say no more about it. 

Both mother and son laughed, and said "Good night" to each other. But asHenrik conveyed the hand of his mother towards his lips, he fell into asort of ecstasy over it. 

"Heavens! what a white hand! and what small fingers! nay, how can peoplehave such small fingers?" And with a sort of comic devotion he kissedthe little finger of that beautiful hand. 

"I see I must carry you off forcibly, if I would have you to myself, "said the Judge merrily, and taking his wife's arm in his, led her out. 

But her thoughts still hovered around her first-born, her handsome andrichly endowed son. She uttered a glowing prayer for his perfecting inall good, whilst all were sleeping sweetly the first night in the newhouse. 

FOOTNOTES:

[4] A wild and animated Swedish national dance. 

CHAPTER II. 

THE MORROW. 

How pleasant it must have been to the family the next morning toassemble round the amply-supplied breakfast-table in a handsome andspacious drawing-room. But drawing-room, and breakfast-table, and alloutward comforts, signify nothing, if the inward are wanting; ifaffectionate dispositions and kind looks do not make the room bright, and the breakfast well-flavoured. But nothing was wanting on thismorning to the family of the Franks--not even the sun. It shone inbrightly to illumine the bright scene. 

Henrik made a speech to Madame Folette, in testimony of his love andreverence for her, and of his joy on meeting her again in so good astate of preservation. 

Louise, with the help of Eva, served tea and coffee, bread and butter, etc. , taking particular care that everybody had just what they likedbest. The basket which held sugar-biscuits was constantly in theneighbourhood of Jacobi. 

"How glorious this is!" exclaimed Henrik, rubbing his hands, and castinga glance of pleasure around on his parents and sisters, "it is quiteparadisiacal! What does your Majesty desire? Ah, your most devotedservant! Coffee, if I might ask it, excellent Madame Folette!"

"After breakfast, " said the mother, "I have something for you to guess. "

"Something to guess?" said Henrik, "what can it be? Tell me, what is itlike, sweet mamma? what name does it bear?"

"A wedding, " replied she. 

"A wedding? A most interesting novelty! I cannot swallow another morseltill I have made it out! Jacobi, my best fellow, can I possess myself ofa biscuit? A wedding! Do I know the parties?"

"Perfectly well. "

"It cannot possibly be our excellent Uncle Munter, himself?" suggestedhe. "He seems to me very odd, and, as it were, a little touched in theheart. "

"Oh, no, no! He'll not marry. "

"He is already so horribly old, " said Eva. 

"Old!" exclaimed the Judge. "He is something above forty, I fancy; youdon't call that so horribly old, my little Eva. But it is true he hasalways had an old look. "

"Guess better, " said the mother. 

"I have it! I have it!" said Petrea, blushing. "It is Laura! AuntEvelina's Laura!"

"Ah, light breaks in, " said Henrik; "and the bridegroom is Major ArvidG. Is it not?"

"Precisely, " said his mother. "Laura makes a very good match. Major G. Is a very good-looking, excellent young man; and beyond this, has a goodproperty. He has persuaded Evelina to remove with Karin to his beautifulseat at Axelholm, and to consider Laura's and his home as theirs for thefuture. Eva dear, set the ham before Henrik. What do you want, my angelGabriele? Another rusk? Heavens! how quick you are! Leonore, may I giveyou some more bread and butter, my child? No?"

"But I hope, " exclaimed Henrik, "that we shall be invited to thewedding. Evelina, who is such a sensible woman, must have the good senseto invite us. Most gracious sister Queen-bee, these rolls--verynourishing and estimable rolls--were they baked before or after theFlood?"

"After, " replied Louise, a little piqued, yet with a smile. 

"Oh! I humble myself in the dust, " said he. "I pray your Majesty mostgraciously to pardon me--[_aside_--but after all they taste remarkablyeither of the ark or of a cupboard]. But what in all the world sort ofbreakfast are you making, Petrea? Nay, dear sister, such, a superfluityin eating never can prosper. I pray you do not eat yourself ill!"

Petrea, who had her curious fancies, or as Louise called them, her "raptures, " had now for some time had the fancy to take only aglass of cold water and a piece of dry bread for her breakfast. Onaccount of this abstinence, Henrik now jested, and Petrea answeredhim quite gaily; Louise, on the contrary, took up the matter quiteseriously, and thought--as many others did--that this whim of Petrea'shad a distant relationship to folly; and folly, Louise--the sensibleLouise--considered the most horrible of horrors; Louise, who was so verysensible!

"Now, really, you must not sit gossiping any longer!" exclaimed thefather, when he saw their mouths only put in motion by conversation, "else I must go away and leave you; and I should very much like to gointo the garden with you first. "

A general rising followed these words, and all betook themselves to thegarden, with the exception of Leonore, who was unwell, and the littleGabriele, who had to be careful on account of the damp. 

In the mean time the garden had its own extraordinary circumstances, andall here did not go on in the usual mode; for although the place was yetnot laid out, and the April snow covered the earth, and still hung ingreat masses on the low fruit-trees, which were the only wealth of thegarden, yet these, not at all according to the commonly established lawsof nature, were covered with fruit the most beautiful; rennets andoranges clustered the twigs, and shone in the sun. Exclamations wereuttered in every variety of tone; and although both Jacobi and Henrikprotested that they could not discover any way of accounting for thissupernatural phenomenon, still they did not escape the suspicion ofbeing instrumental in the witchcraft, spite of all the means they usedto establish their innocence. The opinion, however, was universallyadopted, that good and not bad elves had been thus busily at work; andthe fruit, therefore, was gathered without fear of bad consequences, andlaid in baskets. The elves were praised both in prose and verse; andthere never was a merrier harvest-feast. 

The Judge had some trouble to get anybody to listen to all his plans oflilac-hedges, strawberry-beds, of his arbour, and his garden-house. Thenarrow space, however, in which he had to work troubled him. 

"If one could only get possession of the piece of land beyond this!"said he, striking with his stick upon the tall red-boarded fence whichbounded one side of the garden. "Look here, Elise, peep through thatgap; what a magnificent site it is for building--it extends down to theriver!--what a magnificent promenade it would make, properly laid outand planted! It might be a real treasure to the whole city, which needsa regular walk in its neighbourhood; and now it lies there desolate, anduseful to nobody, but only for a few cows, because the proprietor doesnot know how to make use of it; and our good men of the city have notpublic spirit enough to purchase it out of the common fund for thegeneral good. If I were but rich enough to buy the place, it should soonhave a different appearance, and instead of cows human beings should bewalking there; these boards should be torn down, and our garden shouldbe united to the great promenade. What a situation it would be!"

"Would not beehives answer very well here?" asked our sensibleQueen-bee; "the sun strikes directly on these boards. "

"You are perfectly right, Louise, " said her father, well pleased; "thatis a good thought; this is an excellent place for beehives: to-morrowI'll see about some. Two or three we must have, and that directly, thatthe bees may have the advantage of the apple and cherry bloom. Thus wecan see them working altogether, and learn wisdom from them, and watchhow they collect honey for us. That will be a pleasure--don't you thinkso, Elise?"

Elise rejoiced sincerely over the bees, and over the garden. It wouldgive her great pleasure to lay it out. She would set Provence-roses assoon as possible; and forcing houses also should be erected. Eva thoughtshe should give herself up to gardening. 

But it was necessary to leave for the present the future home ofradishes and roses, because it was wet and uncomfortable out of doors. 

Gabriele made large eyes when she saw the basketful of fruit which hadbeen gathered in the garden. But the little Princess Turandotte couldnot unravel the riddle respecting them, as Henrik presented it to her. 

The forenoon was spent in clearing away, and in arranging things in thehouse. Sara alone took no part in it, but took lessons on the harp froma distinguished young musician of the name of Schwartz, who had come astranger to the city. She sate the whole morning at her music, which sheloved passionately; in the mean time, Petrea had promised to enact thepart of lady's-maid to her, and to put all her clothes and things inorder. 

Henrik sate perfectly happy in his sisters' rooms, and nearly killedhimself with laughing while he watched in part their clearing away andbustling about, and in part taking a share in all. The quantities ofbundles of pieces, old bonnets, cloaks, dresses, etc. , which were herein motion, and played their parts, formed a singular contrast to hisstudent-world, in which such a thing as a piece of printed cotton or apin might be reckoned quite a curiosity. Then the seriousness with whichall these things were treated, and the jokes and merriment which aroseout of all this seriousness, were for him most delicious things. 

Nothing, however, amused him more than Louise and all her "properties, "as well as the great care which, with a half-comic, half-graveearnestness, she took of them; but he declared solemnly that he woulddisclaim all relationship with her if ever he should see her wearing acertain pale green shawl, called jokingly "spinage, " and a pale greydress, with the surname of "water-gruel. " None of the sisters had somany possessions as Louise, and none treated them with so muchimportance; for she had in the highest degree that kind of passion whichwe will call property-passion. Her bandboxes and bundles burstthemselves out of the space in which she wished to stow them, and cametumbling down upon her head. She accused Henrik of being guilty of theseaccidents; and certain it is that he helped her, not without somemischievous pleasure, to put them up again in their places. 

Louise was well known in the family for her love of what was old; themore shabby a dress was, the more distinguished she seemed to think it;and the more faded a shawl, the more, according to her, it resembled aCashmere. This affection for old things extended itself sometimes tocakes, biscuits, creams, etc. , which often occasioned Henrik to inquirewhether an article of a doubtful date had its origin before or after theFlood. We will here add to the description of Louise a few touches, which may make the reader more fully acquainted with her character. 

Pure was she both in Heart and intention, with great love of truth, anda high moral sense, although too much given to lecturing, and sometimesa little wanting in charity towards erring fellow-mortals. She had muchof her father's understanding and prudence, but came, of course, farshort of him in knowledge of mankind and in experience, although now, inher eighteenth year, she considered herself to have a perfect knowledgeof mankind. The moral worth of her soul mirrored itself in her exterior, which, without her being handsome, pleased, and inspired a degree ofconfidence in her, because good sense expressed itself in her calmglance, and her whole demeanour was that of a decided and well-balancedcharacter. A certain comic humour in her would often dissolve her solemnmien and important looks into the most hearty laughter; and when Louiselaughed, she bore a charming resemblance to her mother, for shepossessed Elise's beautiful mouth and teeth. 

She was as industrious as an ant, and in the highest degree helpful tothose who were deserving of help, but less merciful than Lafontaine'sants were to thoughtless crickets and their fellows. Louise had threehobby-horses, although she never would confess that she had a singleone. The first was to work tapestry; the second, to read sermons; andthe third, to play Patience, and more especially Postillion. A fourthhad of late began to discover itself, and that was for medicine--for thediscovering and administering of useful family medicines; nay, she hadherself decocted a certain elixir from nine bitter herbs, which Henrikdeclared would be very serviceable in sending people to the other world. Louise was no way disturbed by all this, for she did not allow herselfto be annoyed by remarks. 

She prized, enjoyed, and sought, above all things, after "the right;"but she also set a high value on "respectability" and "property, " andseemed to think that these were hers of course. She had the excellentpeculiarity of never undertaking anything that she could not creditablyget through with; but she had a great opinion of her own ability, inwhich her family participated, although they sometimes attempted to sether down. In the mean time she was in many instances the adviser andsupport of the family; and she had a real genius for the mightydepartment of housekeeping. 

The parents called her, with a certain satisfaction--the father with asecret pride--"our eldest daughter. " The sisters styled her ratherwaggishly "our eldest sister, " and sometimes simply "our eldest;" and"our eldest" knew exceedingly well how to regard her own dignity inrespect to rank and priority. Beyond this, she had a high idea of thevalue of woman. 

Louise had an album, in which all her friends and acquaintance hadwritten down their thoughts or those of others. It was remarkable what amass of morality this book contained. 

We fear that our readers may be somewhat weary of hearing the names ofSara, Louise, Eva, Leonore, Petrea, Gabriele, repeated so often oneafter another, and we are very sorry that we find it unavoidable yetonce more to present the whole array in connexion with Louise. But wewill see what little variety we can make by taking them at hap-hazard, and therefore now steps forward

PETREA. 

We are all of us somewhat related to chaos; Petrea was very closely so. Momentary bursts of light and long periods of confusion alternated inher. There was a great dissimilarity between Louise and Petrea. WhileLouise required six drawers and more to contain her possessions, thereneeded scarcely half a one for the whole wardrobe of Petrea; and thissaid wardrobe too was always in such an ill-conditioned case, that itwas, according to Louise, quite lamentable, and she not unfrequentlylent a helping hand to its repair. Petrea tore her things, and gave awaywithout bounds or discrimination, and was well known in the sisterlycircle for the bad state of her affairs. Petrea had no turn foraccumulation; on the contrary, she had truly, although Louise would notallow it, a certain turn for art. 

She was always occupied by creations of one kind or another, eithermusical, or architectural, or poetical. But all her creations containedsomething of that which is usually called trash. At twelve years old shewrote her first romance: "Annette and Belis loved each other tenderly;they experienced adversity in their love; were at last, however, united, and lived henceforth in a charming cottage, surrounded with hedges ofroses, and had eight children in one year, " which we may call a veryhonourable beginning. A year afterwards she began a tragedy, which wasto be called "Gustavus Adolphus and Ebba Brahe, " and which opened withthese verses spoken by one Delagardie:

 Now from Germania's coast returned, I see again the much-loved strand; From war I come, without a wound, Once more into my native land. Say, Bannér say, what woe has caused these tears, Am I not true to thee, or is it idle hope alone that will befool my years?

Whether no sheet of paper was broad enough to contain the lengthenedlines, or any other cause interfered to prevent the completion of thepiece, we know not; but certain it is that it was soon laid aside. Neither did a piece of a jocular nature, which was intended to emulatethe fascinating muse of Madame Lenngren, [5] advance much further--thebeginning was thus:

 Within the lordly castle Elfvakolastie, Which lay, in sooth, somewhere in Sverge, [6] There lived of yore the lovely Melanie, The only daughter of Count Stjerneberge. 

At the present time Petrea was engaged on a poem, the title of which, written in large letters, ran thus--"The Creation of the World!"

The Creation of the World began thus:

 CHAOS. 

 Once in the depths etern of darkness lying, This mighty world Waited expectantly the moments flying When light should be unfurled. The world was nothing then, which now is given To crowds of busy men; And all our beautiful star-spangled heaven Was desolate darkness then; Yet He was there, who before time existed, Who will endure for ever. 

The creation of the world ceased with this faint glimmering of light, and was probably destined under Petrea's hand never to be brought forthfrom chaos. Petrea had an especially great inclination for greatundertakings, and the misfortune to fail in them. This want of successalways wounded her deeply, but in the next moment the impulse of anirresistibly vigorous temperament raised her above misfortune in somenew attempt. The blood rushed up to her young head, and filled it with amass of half-formed thoughts, fancies, and ideas; her mind and hercharacter were full of disquiet. At times joyous and wild beyond bounds, she became on the other hand wretched and dispirited without reason. Poor Petrea! She was wanting in every kind of self-regulation andballast, even outwardly; she walked ill--she stood ill--she curtseyedill--sate ill--and dressed ill; and occasioned, in consequence, muchpain to her mother, who felt so acutely whatever was unpleasing; andthis also was very painful to Petrea, who had a warm heart, and whoworshipped her mother. 

Petrea also cherished the warmest affection and admiration for Sara, buther manner even of evidencing her affection was commonly so entirelywithout tact, as rather to displease than please the object of it. Theconsciousness of this fact embittered much of Petrea's life; but itconducted her by degrees to a love in which tact and address are of noconsequence, and which is never unreturned. 

Sometimes Petrea was seized with a strong consciousness of thechaoticness of her state; but then, again, at other times she would havea presentiment that all this would clear itself away, and then thatsomething which was quite out of the common way would come forth; andthen she was accustomed to say, half in jest and half in earnest, to hersisters, "You'll see what I shall turn out sometime!" But in what thisextraordinary turning out should consist nobody knew, and least of allpoor Petrea herself. She glanced full of desire towards many suns, andwas first attracted by one and then by another. 

Louise had for Petrea's prophesyings great contempt, but the littleGabriele believed in them all. She delighted herself, moreover, soheartily in all that her sister began, that Petrea sacrificed to her hermost beautiful gold-paper temple; her original picture of shepherdessesand altars; and her island of bliss in the middle of peaceful waters, and in the bay of which lay a little fleet of nut-shells, with riggingof silk, and laden with sugar-work, and from the motion of which, andthe planting of its wonderful flowers, and glorious fruit-bearing trees, Petrea's heart had first had a foretaste of bliss. 

Petrea's appearance imaged her soul;--for this too was very variable;this too had its "raptures;" and here too at times also a glimmeringlight would break through the chaos. If the complexion were muddled, andthe nose red and swollen, she had a most ordinary appearance; but incooler moments, and when the rose-hue confined itself merely to thecheeks, she was extremely good-looking; and sometimes too, and that evenin her ugly moments, there would be a gleam in her eye, and anexpression in her countenance, which had occasioned Henrik to declarethat "Petrea was after all handsome!"

To a chaotic mind, the desire for controversy is in-born; it is theconflict of the elements with each other. There was no subject uponwhich Petrea had not her conjectures, and nothing upon which she was notendeavouring to get a clear idea; on this account she discussed allthings, and disputed with every one with whom she came in contact;reasoned, or more properly made confusion, on politics, literature, human free-will, the fine arts, or anything else; all which was veryunpleasant to the tranquil spirit of her mother, and which, in connexionwith want of tact, especially in her zeal to be useful, made poor Petreathe laughing-stock of every one; a bitter punishment this, on earth, although before the final judgment-seat of very little, or of noconsequence at all. 

LEONORE. 

Spite of the mother's embraces, and the appellation, "thou beloved, plain child!" the knowledge by degrees had come painfully to Leonorethat she was ugly, and that she was possessed of no charm--of no fineendowment whatever; she could not help observing what little means shehad of giving pleasure to others, or of exciting interest; she saw veryplainly how she was set behind her more gifted sisters by theacquaintance and friends of the family; this, together with feeblehealth, and the discomfort which her own existence occasioned to her, put her in a discordant state with life and mankind. She was prone tothink everything troublesome and difficult; she fell easily into a stateof opposition to her sisters, and her naturally quick temper led heroften into contentions which were not without their bitterness. All thismade poor Leonore feel herself very unhappy. 

But none, no! none, suffer in vain, however for a while it may appearso. Suffering is the plough which turns up the field of the soul, intowhose deep furrows the all-wise Husbandman scatters his heavenly seed;and in Leonore, also, it already began to sprout, although, as yet, onlyunder the earth. She was not aware of it herself yet; but all that sheexperienced in life, together with the spirit which prevailed in herfamily, had already awakened the beauty of her soul. She was possessedof deep feeling, and the consciousness of her many wants made her, bydegrees, the most unpretending and humble of human beings; and these arevirtues which, in private life, cannot be exceeded. If you come near aperson of this character, the influence on you is as if you came out ofthe sun's heat into refreshing shadow: a soft coolness is wafted overyour soul, which refreshes and tranquillises you at the same time. 

In the period at which we have now to meet Leonore, she had justrecovered from the scarlet fever, which had left behind it such anobstinate and oppressive headache as compelled her almost constantly toremain in her own room; and although her parents and her sisters visitedher there, it afforded her but little pleasure, for as yet she had notlearned how, by goodness and inward kindness, to make herself agreeableto others. 

But, poor Leonore! when I see thee sitting there in deep thought, thyweak head supported by thy hand, sunk in sorrowful reflections, I amready to lay thy head on my bosom, and to whisper a prophesying in thyear--but this may as well remain to a future time. We leave thee now, but will return another time to thy silent chamber. 

And now step forth, thou, the joy and ornament of home, the beautiful

EVA!

Eva was called in the family, "our rose, " "our beauty. " There are manyin the world like Eva, and it is well that it is so; they are of apleasing kind. It is delightful to look upon these blooming young girls, with smiles on their lips, and goodness and joy of life beaming fromtheir beautiful eyes. All wish them so well, and they wish so well toall; everything good in life seems as if it came from themselves. Theyhave favourable gales in life--it was so with Eva. Even her weakness, adesire to please, which easily went too far, and an instability ofcharacter which was very dangerous to her, exhibited themselves only ontheir pleasing side, within the circle of her family and of heracquaintance, and helped to make her more beloved. 

Eva, although perhaps, strictly speaking, not beautiful, was yetbloomingly lovely. Her eyes were not large, but were of the mostexquisite form, and of the clearest dark blue colour, and their glancefrom under their long black lashes was at once modest, lively, andamiable. The silky chestnut brown hair was parted over a not lofty butclassically-formed brow. Her skin was white, fine, and transparent, andthe mouth and teeth perfectly beautiful; add to all this, Eva had thefine figure of her mother, with her light and graceful action. Excellenthealth, the happiest temper, and a naturally well-tuned soul, gave abeautiful and harmonious expression to her whole being. Whatever shedid, she did well, and with grace; and whatever she wore became her; itwas a kind of proverb in the family, that if Eva were to put a black caton her head it would be becoming. 

A similarity in understanding and talent, as well as companionshiptogether, had made Louise and Eva hitherto "_les inseparables_, " both athome and abroad; of late, however, without separating herself fromLouise, Eva had been drawn, as it were, by a secret power to Leonore. Louise, with all her possessions, was so sufficient for herself. Leonorewas so solitary, so mournful, up there, that the good heart of Eva wastenderly drawn towards her. 

But it seems to us as if Gabriele looks rather poutingly, because shehas been so long, as it were, pushed aside. _We_ will therefore hastilyturn to

THE LITTLE LADY. 

It did not please "our little lady" to be neglected at all. Gabrielewas, in truth, a spoiled child, and often made "_la pluie_" and the"_beau temps_" in the house. She was defended from cold, and wind, andrain, and vexation, and faddled with and indulged in all possible ways, and praised and petted as if for the best behaviour, if she were onlygracious enough to take a cup of bouillon, or the wing of a chicken fordinner. She herself is still like the chicken under the mother's wing;yet she will sometimes creep from under, and attempt little flights onher own account. Then she is charming and merry, makes enigmas andcharades, which she gives mostly to her mother and Petrea to guess. Itgives her particular pain to be treated as a little girl; and nothingworse can happen to her than for the elder sisters to say, "Go out justfor a little while, Gabriele, dear!" in order that they may then impartto each other some important affair, or read together some heart-rendingnovel. She will willingly be wooed and have homage paid to her; and theAssessor is always out of favour with her, because he jokes with her, and calls her "little Miss Curlypate, " and other such ugly names. 

Learning and masters are no affairs of hers. She loves a certain "_farniente_, " and on account of delicate health her tastes are indulged. Hergreatest delight is in dancing, and in the dance she is captivating. Inopposition to Petrea, she has a perfect horror of all greatundertakings; and in opposition to Louise, a great disinclination tosermons, be they by word of mouth or printed. The sun, the warm wind, flowers, but above all, beloved and amiable human beings, make Gabrielefeel most the goodness of the Creator, and awaken her heart to worship. 

She has a peculiar horror of death, and will neither hear it, nor indeedanything else dark or sorrowful, spoken of; and, happily for Gabriele, true parental love has a strong resemblance to the Midsummer sun of theNorth, which shines as well by night as by day. 

If we turn from the bright-haired Gabriele to Sara, to "that Africa, " asthe Assessor called her, we go from day to night. Sara was like abeautiful dark cloud in the house--like a winter night with its brightstars, attractive, yet at the same time repulsive. To us, nevertheless, she will become clear, since we possess the key to her soul, and canobserve it in the following

NOTICES FROM SARA'S JOURNAL. 

"Yesterday evening Macbeth was read aloud; they all trembled before LadyMacbeth: I was silent, for she pleased me. There was power in thewoman. "

"Life! what is life? When the tempest journeys through space on strongfree pinions, it sings to me a song which finds an echo in my soul. Whenthe thunder rolls, when the lightning flames, then I divine something oflife in its strength and greatness. But this tame every-day life--littlevirtues, little faults, little cares, little joys, littleendeavours--this contracts and stifles my spirit. Oh, thou flame whichconsumest me in the silent night, what wilt thou? There are moments inwhich thou illuminest, but eternities in which thou tormentest andburnest me!"

"This narrow sphere satisfies _them_; they find interest in a thousandtrifles; they are able to exert themselves in order to obtain littleenjoyments for each other. Well for them! I was made for somethingdifferent. "

"Why should I obey? Why should I submit my inclination--my will, togratify others?--Why? Ah, freedom--freedom!"

"I have obtained 'Volney's Ruins' from S----. I conceal the book fromthese pious fearful people, who tremble at shadows; butto-night!--to-night!--when their eyes are closed in sleep, mine shallwake and read it. The frontispiece to this book gives me extraordinarypleasure. A wreck combats with stormy waves; the moon goes down amidblack clouds; on the shore, among the ruins of a temple, sits aMussulman--a beautiful and thoughtful figure--and surveys the scene. Ilikewise observe it, and an agreeable shudder passes through me. A vastruin is better and far more beautiful than a small and an emptyhappiness. "

"The book pleases me. It expresses what has long lain silent in me. Itgives clear light to my dark anticipations. Ah! what a day dawns uponme! A dazzling light that clears away all misty illusions, but my eyesare strong enough to bear it! Let the net of prejudice, let themiserable bond of custom be rent asunder, let the fettering supportsfall! My own strength is sufficient for me. "

"Why am I a woman? As a man my life and my conduct would have been clearand easy; as a woman, I must bow myself in order to clear myself. Miserable dependence! Miserable lot of woman!"

"I do not love S----, but he makes a certain impression upon me. Thedark strength in his eye pleases me, the reckless strong will that willbow itself only to me; and when he takes the harp in his arms, with whatpowerful strength he compels it to express all that which the heart hasdreamt and dreams. Then he grasps the strings of my heart--then Iacknowledge in him my master; but never, he shall never govern me. 

"His spirit is not powerful enough for that. He never can be other to methan as a means to my end. Nor will I herein deceive him. I am too proudfor a hypocrite. I know well whom I could love. I know well the man whocould be the aim of my ambition. "

"Nature never created me for this narrow sphere--for this narrowfoot-track through life. S---- shows me another, which captivates mymind; I feel that I am created for it. 

"I have observed myself in the glass, and it tells me, as well as theglance of mankind, that I am handsome. My growth is strong, and accordswith the character of my countenance. I cannot doubt the assurance ofS----. My person, in connexion with the powers of my mind, and mytalent, will ensure me a brilliant future. "

"What purpose would it serve to create illusions? Away with allillusions! I stand upon a higher point than those around me--than theywho consider themselves entitled to censure my faults, to exaltthemselves in secret above me, perhaps because they have taken me out ofcompassion. Taken me out of compassion! Subjecting, humiliating thought!

"Yet, at the same time, they are good; yes, angelically good to me. Iwish they were less so!"

"To-night, now for the second time in my life, I have had the sameextraordinary dream. It appeared to me that I was in my chamber, and sawin heaven vast masses of black cloud above my head driving towards thehorizon, accompanied with a strong rushing sound in the air. 

"'Save thyself, Sara!' cried the voices of my sisters; 'come, come withus!' But I felt in my limbs that peculiar sluggishness which oneperceives in dreams when one wishes to hasten. My chamber-window flewopen before the tempest, and impelled by a strong curiosity I lookedout. The sun stood opposite to me, pale, watery, without beams; but thewhole firmament around me seemed to burn; a glow of fire passed over allthings. Before me stood a tall aspen, whose leaves trembled andcrackled, whilst sparks of fire darted forth from them. Upon one twig ofthe tree sate a huge black bird, looking on me with a fiery glance, andsinging hoarsely and tunelessly, while the tempest and flame riotedaround him. I heard the voices of my adopted mother and sistersanxiously calling on me from a distance ever further and furtherremoved. 

"I leaned myself out of the window to hear what the black bird with thewonderful voice sang. I no longer had any fear. I awoke; but the dreamhas a charm for me. "

"The black bird sings to me, out of my dream. My adopted mother has weptto-day on my account. I am sorry for it, but----it is best that I go. They do not love me here--they cannot do it. They do not need me, nor Ithem any longer. It is best that we separate. "

Thus Sara. 

We will now cast a glance on the parents themselves, who were notgreatly altered, excepting that Elise's whole appearance exhibited muchmore health and strength than formerly. The energetic countenance of theJudge had more wrinkles, but it had, besides, an expression of muchgreater gentleness. A slight, but perhaps not wholly unpardonable, weakness might be observed in him. He was completely captivated with hisdaughters. God bless the good father!

FOOTNOTES:

[5] Anna Lenngren, a distinguished Swedish poetess, admired especiallyfor her Idyls. She died in 1817. 

[6] Sweden. 

CHAPTER III. 

THE OBJECT. 

We must now say how the family grouped themselves in the new house. Since the arrival of Henrik and Jacobi, the liveliness of the family hadvisibly increased, Henrik zealously followed up his purpose of makinghis sisters take more active exercise, and Jacobi assisted him with hiswhole heart. Long walks were arranged, but, to Henrik's annoyance, itseldom was possible to induce Louise to take exercise of that kindwhich, according to his opinion, she needed so much. Louise had alwayssuch a vast deal to do at home; Sara lived only for her harp and hersinging; Leonore was not strong enough; and for Gabriele, it wasgenerally either too cold, or too dirty, or too windy, or she was not inthe humour to walk. Eva, on the contrary, was always in the humour, andPetrea had always the desire to speed away. It was Henrik's greatestpleasure to give one of his sisters his arm, especially when they werewell and handsomely dressed. 

At seven o'clock in the evening all the members of the family assembledthemselves in the library, where the tea-table was prepared, at whichLouise presided. The evenings were uncommonly cheerful, particularlywhen the family were alone. Between tea and supper they either talked, or read aloud, or had music; after supper they mostly danced, and thenLouise exercised herself with remarkable grace. Sometimes they hadcharades or social games. Henrik and Petrea had always some new flash ofmerriment or other. It was the greatest delight of the Judge to see allhis children around him, especially in an evening, and to see them happytoo. The door of his study, which adjoined the library, always stoodopen, in an evening, and, whether he read or wrote there, he still wasconscious of all that went forward among them. Sometimes he would comeout and take part in their entertainment, or would sit on the green sofabeside his wife, and watch the dance, rejoicing himself over hisdaughters, and sometimes was even taken out into the dance, where he wasin much request. 

The young people remarked, that whatever might for the time occupyJacobi, he was somewhat absent and incomprehensible; he sighedfrequently, and seemed rather to enjoy quiet conversation with theladies than charades and other amusements. It was discovered, betweenHenrik and Petrea, that these fits of absence, and these sighs, musthave an object; but it was a long time, that is to say, three or fourdays, before they could decide who it really was. 

"It cannot be our mamma, " said Petrea, "because she is married; andbesides this, she is so much older than any of us, although, prettierthan all of us together; and though Master Jacobi has such pleasure intalking with her, and conducts himself towards her as if he were herson, still it cannot be she. Do you know, Henrik, I fancy Sara is theobject--he looks at her so much; or perhaps Eva, for he is always solively with her; and I heard him say yesterday to Uncle Munter, that shewas so uncommonly charming. But it is rather improper that he shouldpass 'our eldest' so!"

Henrik was greatly amused by Petrea's difficulty and conjectures, for hehad his own peculiar notions about the object, and by degrees Petreaherself began to have a clearer foreknowledge, and to think thatperhaps, after all, the true object might be no other than "our eldest"herself. After this insight into things, which Petrea was not slow incirculating among her sisters, Louise was called, in their jocularphraseology, "the object. " All this while, however, "the object"herself appeared to pay very little attention to the speculations whichhad thus reference to herself. Louise was at the present time greatlyoccupied by setting up a piece of weaving, and had in consequence, greatly to Henrik's horror, brought again into use the dress surnamed"water-gruel. " She had absolutely a sort of rage to wear out her oldclothes--and as it happened, moreover, that the piece of weaving was ofa pattern which was much perplexed and difficult to arrange, she assumedalmost constantly the "cathedral demeanour, " which occasioned her tolook all the less attractive. But so it happened, Jacobi looked a greatdeal at Sara, joked with Eva, and remained sitting beside Louise, as ifhe found by her side only true happiness and satisfaction. 

In vain did Petrea draw him into all kind of controversial subjects, inorder to make him, during the contest, somewhat forgetful of "theobject. " He did not become abstracted; and it was particularlyobservable that the Master had much less desire for disputation than theCandidate had had; and when Mrs. Gunilla took the field against him morethan once with a whole host of monads and nomads, he only laughed. Now, indeed, Jacobi had a favourite topic of conversation, and that was hisExcellency O----. The distinguished personal qualities of hisExcellency, his noble character, his goodness, his spirit, hiscommanding carriage, his imposing exterior, could not be sufficientlycelebrated and exalted by Jacobi; nay, even his broad lion-likeforehead, his strong glance, and his beautiful patrician hands, weremany a time described. 

Jacobi had for some time been attached to his Excellency as hissecretary, and he had now the hope of his assistance in his futureprospects. In the mean time his Excellency had shown him the greatestkindness; had given him many opportunities of increasing his knowledge, and had offered to take him with him on a journey to foreign countries;besides all which, he had himself practised him in French. In one word, Excellency O---- was the most excellent excellency in all the world, anactual excellentissimus. Jacobi was devoted to him heart and soul, wasrich in anecdotes about Excellency O----, and in anecdotes which he hadheard of his Excellency. 

Louise, more than any member of the family, had the property of being agood listener, and therefore she heard more than any one else of hisExcellency O----, but yet not alone of him; Jacobi had always asomething to relate to her, a something on which he wanted herconsideration, and if Louise were not too much occupied with herthoughts about the weaving, he was always quite sure, not only of hersincere sympathy, but of her most deliberate judgment, as well on moralquestions as on questions of economical arrangement, dress, plans forthe future, and so forth. He himself imparted to her good advice--which, however, was not often followed--for playing Postillion. He drewpatterns for her embroidery, and read aloud to her gladly, and thatnovels in preference to sermons. 

But he was not long permitted to sit in peace by her side, for very soonthe seat on the other side of her was occupied by a person whom we willcall "the Landed-proprietor, " from the circumstance of his most eminentdistinction being the possession of an estate in the neighbourhood ofthe town. 

The Landed-proprietor appeared to the Candidate--we will for the futureadhere to this our old appellation, for, in a certain sense, in thisworld, all men are Candidates--quite disposed to make a quarrel aboutthe place he was inclined to take. 

Beside his large estate, the Landed-proprietor was possessed of a largeportly body, round cheeks, plump from excess of health, a pair of largegrey eyes remarkable for their unmeaning expression, a little ruddymouth, which, preferred eating rather than speaking, which laughedwithout meaning, and which now directed to Cousin Louise--he consideredhimself related to her father--sundry speeches which we will stringtogether in our next chapter. 

CHAPTER IV. 

STRANGE QUESTIONS. 

"Cousin Louise, are you fond of fish? for example, bream?" asked theLanded-proprietor one evening as he seated himself beside Louise, whowas industriously working a landscape in her embroidery-frame. 

"Oh, yes! bream is good fish, " replied she, very phlegmatically, andwithout looking up from her work. 

"Oh, with red-wine sauce, " said the Landed-proprietor, "delicate! Ihave magnificent fishing on my estate at Oestanvik. Big fellows ofbream! I catch them myself. "

"Who is that great fish there?" asked Jacobi from Henrik, with animpatient sneer, "and what matters it to him whether your sister Louiselikes bream or not?"

"Because in that case she might like him, _mon cher_, " replied Henrik;"a most respectable and substantial fellow is my Cousin Thure ofOestanvik. I advise you to cultivate his acquaintance. Well, now, Gabriele dear, what wants your highness?--Yes, what is it?--I shall losemy head about the riddle. --Mamma dear, come and help your stupid son!"

"No, no, mamma knows it already! Mamma must not tell, " exclaimedGabriele, terrified. 

"What king do you set up above all other kings, Master Jacobi?" for thesecond time asked Petrea, who this evening had a sort of question mania. 

"Charles the Thirteenth, " replied he, and listened to Louise's answer tothe Landed-proprietor. 

"Cousin Louise, are you fond of birds?" asked the Landed-proprietor. 

"Oh, yes, particularly of fieldfares, " answered Louise. 

"Nay, that's capital!" said the Landed-proprietor. "There areinnumerable fieldfares on my estate of Oestanvik. I often go out myselfwith my gun and shoot them for my dinner; piff-paff! with two shots Ihave killed a whole dishful!"

"Don't you imagine, Master Jacobi, that the people before the Flood weremuch wickeder than those of our time?" asked Petrea, who wished tooccupy the Candidate, nothing deterred by his evident abstraction, andwhom nobody had asked if she liked fieldfares. 

"Oh, much--much better, " answered Jacobi. 

"Cousin Louise, are you fond of roast hare?" asked theLanded-proprietor. 

"Master Jacobi, are you fond of roast hare?" whispered Petrea, waggishly, to the Candidate. 

"Bravo, Petrea!" whispered her brother to her. 

"Cousin Louise, are you fond of cold meat?" asked the Landed-proprietor, as he handed Louise to the supper-table. 

"Should you like to be a landed-proprietor?" whispered Henrik to her asshe left it. 

Louise answered exactly as a cathedral would have answered--looked verysolemn, and was silent. 

Petrea, like something let quite loose, after supper would not letanybody remain quiet who by any possibility could be made to answer her. "Is reason sufficient for mankind?" asked she. "What is the foundationof morals? What is the proper meaning of revelation? Why is the nationalways so badly off? Why must there be rich and poor?" etc. , etc. 

"Dear Petrea, " said Louise, "what can be the use of asking suchquestions?"

It was an evening for questions; there was not even an end to them whenpeople separated for the night. 

"Do you not think, " asked the Judge from his wife when they were alonetogether, "that our little Petrea begins to be quite disagreeable withher perpetual questions and disputations? She leaves nobody at peace, and is at times in a sort of unceasing disquiet. She will, some time orother, make herself quite ridiculous if she goes on so. "

"Yes, " replied Elise, "_if_ she goes on so; but I think she will not. Ihave observed Petrea narrowly for some time, and do you know I fancythere is something out of the common way in that young girl. "

"Yes, yes, " said he, "in the common way she certainly is not; themerriment and the everlasting joviality which she occasions, and thecomical devices that she has----"

"Yes, " replied the mother, "do they not indicate a decided turn for art?And then she has a remarkable thirst for knowledge. Every morning she isup between three and four, in order to read or write, or to work at herCreation. It is, in fact, quite uncommon; and may not this unrest, thiszeal to question and dispute, arise from a sort of intellectual hunger?Ah! from such hunger, which many a woman for want of fitting alimentsuffers through the whole of her life! From such an emptiness of thesoul proceed unrest, discontentedness, nay, innumerable faults!"

"I believe you are right, Elise, " said her husband; "and no condition inlife is more melancholy, particularly in advanced years. But this shallnot be the lot of my Petrea--that we will prevent. What do you think nowwould be good for her?"

"I fancy, " said Elise, "that a course of serious and well-directedstudy would assist in regulating her mind. She is too much left toherself, with her disarranged bent--with her enthusiasm and herattempts. I myself have too little knowledge to instruct her, you havetoo little time, and there is no one here who would undertake theguidance of her young unsettled mind. I am sometimes extremely grievedabout her; for her sisters do not understand the workings of her mind, which I must confess sometimes give me pain. I wish I were better ableto help her. Petrea requires a ground on which to take her stand--as yetshe has none; her thoughts require some firm holding-place; from thewant of this comes her unrest. She is like a flower without roots, whichis driven about by wind and wave. "

"She shall be firmly rooted; she shall find firm ground to stand upon, if such is to be found in the world!" said the Judge, with a grave yetbeaming eye, and striking his hand at the same time with such violenceon a volume of West-Gotha law, that it fell to the ground. "We willthink about it, " continued he; "Petrea is yet too young for one to saywith certainty what is her decided bent; but we will strengthen herpowers! she shall no longer know hunger of any kind, so long as I liveand can get my own bread. You know my friend, the excellent BishopB----. Perhaps we can at first confide Petrea to his guidance. After afew years we shall see----as yet she is only a child. But don't youthink we might speak with Jacobi, whether he could not read with her andtalk with her--apropos! how is it with Jacobi? I fancy he begins tothink about Louise. "

"Yes, yes, you are not wrong, " said Elise; "and our Cousin Thure ofOestanvik--have you remarked nothing there?"

"Yes, I did remark something, " replied he. "The thousand! What stupidquestions were those that he put to her! 'Does Cousin like this?' or, 'Does Cousin like that?' But I don't like that! not I! Louise is not yetgrown up, and already shall people come and ask her, does Cousin like?Nay, perhaps, after all it means nothing; that would please me best. What a pity it is, however, that our Cousin Thure is not more of a man!A most beautiful estate he has, and so near us. "

"Yes, a pity, " said Elise; "because such as he is now, I am quiteconvinced Louise would find it impossible to endure him. "

"You do not think she would like Jacobi?" asked the father. 

"To tell the truth, " returned she, "I think it probable she might. "

"Nay, " said he, "that would be very unpleasant, and very imprudent: I amvery fond of Jacobi, but he has nothing, and he is nothing. "

"But, my love, " reasoned his wife, "he may become something, and he mayget something. I confess, dear Ernst, that he would suit Louise betterfor a husband than almost any one else, and I would willingly call himson. "

"Would you, Elise!" exclaimed the Judge, "then I suppose I must preparemyself to do the same. You have had most trouble, most labour, with thechildren, and you have, therefore, most to say in their affairs. "

"You are so good, Ernst, " said Elise. 

"Say reasonable--nothing more than reasonable, " said he; "beyond this Ihave the belief that our thoughts and our inclinations do not differmuch. I confess that I consider Louise as a great treasure, and I knownobody whom, of my own will, I would confer her upon; still, if Jacobiobtains her affections, I could not find in my heart to oppose a unionbetween them, although, on account of his uncertain prospects, it wouldmake me anxious. I am much attached to Jacobi, and on Henrik's accountwe have much to thank him for. His excellent heart, his honesty, hisgood qualities, will make him as good a citizen as husband and father, and he belongs at the same time to that class of persons with whom it ismost pleasant to have daily intercourse. But, God forbid! I am talkingjust as if I wished the union, and I am a long way from that yet. Iwould much rather keep my daughters with me as long as they could feelthemselves happy with me; but when girls grow up, one cannot reckon onpeace. I wish all wooers and question-askers at Jericho! Now, we couldlive here as in a kingdom of heaven, since we have got all into suchnice order--some little improvements, it is true, I could yet make, though things are well enough, if we could be at peace. I have beenthinking that we could so easily make a wardrobe. See on this side, inthe wall; don't you think that if we here opened----Heavens! are youalready asleep, my dear?"

CHAPTER V. 

AN INVITATION. 

About this time the sisters of the house began to dream a great dealabout conflagrations, and there was no end of the meanings of dreams, hints, little jokes, and communications among the sisters, none of whomdreamt more animated or more significant dreams than Petrea. Gabriele, who, in her innocence, did not dream at all, wondered what all thisextraordinary talk about conflagration meant; but she could not learnmuch, for as often as she desired to have her part in the mysteries, itwas said, "Go out for a little while, Gabriele dear. "

One evening Sara, Louise, Eva, and Petrea were sitting together at alittle table, where they were deep in the discussion of something whichseemed to possess extraordinary interest for them, when Gabriele cameand asked just for a little place at the table for herself and herbooks; but it was impossible, there was no room for the little one. Almost at the same moment Jacobi and Henrik came up; they too sought forroom at the circle of young ladies, and now see! there was excellentroom for them both, whereupon Gabriele stuck her little head betweenLouise and Petrea, and prayed her sisters to solve the following riddle:

"What is that at which six places may be found, but not five?"

The sisters laughed; Louise kissed the little refined moralist; andPetrea left the table, the gentlemen, and a political discussion, whichshe had begun with Henrik, in order to sit on one side and relate toGabriele the Travels of Thiodolf, which was one of the greatestenjoyments of our little lady. 

"Apropos!" cried Henrik, "will there not be a wedding celebrated the dayafter to-morrow, to which we ought naturally to be invited. --N. B. According to my reckoning, Aunt Evelina has far less genius than I gaveher credit for, if----"

"Aunt Evelina stands here now ready, if possible, to vindicate hergenius, " said a friendly voice, and to the amazement of all Aunt Evelinastood in the middle of the room. 

After the first salutations and questions, Evelina presented aninvitation, not as Henrik expected for the marriage, but for theentertainment after the marriage. [7]

Laura's marriage with Major G. Was to be celebrated in the quietestmanner, at her adopted mother's house, and only in the presence of a fewrelations. But the mother of the bridegroom, one of those joyous personswho in a remarkable manner lightens the world of its cares--and forwhich the world thanks them so little--one of those who, if possible, would entertain and make glad all mankind, and whom mankind on thataccount very willingly slanders;--she, the stout and cordial widow of aCouncillor of War, was determined to celebrate the marriage of her onlyand beloved son in a festive and cheerful manner, and to make the wholecountry partakers of the joy which she herself felt. 

The great marriage-festival was to last eight days, and already thegreat doors of Axelholm were standing wide open to receive aconsiderable party of the notables of the place. The bride andbridegroom were to invite their respective friends and acquaintances, and commissioned now by the bride and her future mother-in-law, Evelinabrought a written invitation from her; she came now to beseech thefamily--the whole family, Jacobi included, to honour the festivity withtheir presence; above all things, desiring that _all_ the daughtersmight come--every one of them was wanted for one thing or another. Theyreckoned on Petrea, she said, who had a great turn for theatricals, totake a character in a play which was to be acted; and the others werewanted for dancing and for _tableaux vivants_. Gabriele must allowherself to be made an angel of--and naturally they hoped, that out ofall this the young people would find amusement. 

They wished and prayed that the whole family would establish themselvesat Axelholm, where everything was prepared for them during the wholetime of the festival, and, if possible, longer, which would contributeso much to their friends' satisfaction there. 

Pitt, Fox, Thiers, Lafitte, Platen, Anckarsvärd, nay, one may evenassert that all the orators in the world never made speeches which wereconsidered more beautiful by their hearers, nor which were received withwarmer or more universal enthusiasm than this little oration of AuntEvelina. Henrik threw himself on his knee before the excellent, eloquentAunt; Eva clapped her hands, and embraced her; Petrea cried aloud in afit of rapture, and in leaping up threw down a work-table on Louise;Jacobi made an _entrechat_, freed Louise from the work-table, andengaged her for the first _anglaise_ of the first ball. 

The Judge, glad from his heart that his children should have so muchenjoyment, was obliged, for his part, to give up the joyful festivity. Business! Judge Frank had seldom time for anything but business! yet hewould manage it so that at least he would take them there, and on thefollowing day he would return. Elise sent back her compliments, butcould not take more than two, or at most three, of her daughters withher; Evelina, however, overruled this, as did also her husband, whoinsisted that they _all_ should go. 

"Perhaps, " said he, "they may never have such another opportunity toenjoy themselves. "

Seldom, indeed, does it happen that people beg and pray and counsel amother to take all her six daughters with her. Long may such counsellorslive! But then it must be acknowledged, that the daughters of the Frankswere universally beloved on account of their kind, agreeable manners, and their many good qualities. 

Elise must promise to take them all with her--Sara, Louise, Eva, Leon----no! It is true Leonore could not go with her; the poor Leonoremust remain at home, on account of indisposition; and very soon, therefore, Eva and Petrea emulated each other as to which should remainwith her. Leonore declared coldly and peevishly that nobody should stayat home on her account; she needed nobody; she would much rather bealone; the sisters might all go, without hesitation; there was no fearof her not living through it! Poor Leonore had become changed by hersickness and her sedentary life;--her better self had become hiddenunder a cloud of vexation and ill-humour, which chilled the kindlinessand friendliness that people otherwise would have shown to her. 

In the mean time there was a stir among the young people of the family;for much had to be bought, much to be made, and much to be put in order, that they might be able to make an honourable appearance at the marriagefestival. What a review was there then of dresses, flowers, ribbons, gloves, etc. ! what counsel-takings and projects regarding the newpurchases! what calculations, so that the present of money which thegood father had, all unsolicited, made to each daughter might not beexceeded. Louise was invaluable to everybody; she had counsel andcontrivance for everybody; besides all this, she was unwearied inshopping, and never disheartened in buying. She made very fewcompliments--would let them in a shop open all they had, if she wantedonly an ell of cloth; and would go to twelve places in order to get apiece of ribbon cheaper or of better quality--she paid great regard to_quality_. According to her own opinion, as well as that of her family, she was an excellent hand at getting good bargains; that is, forobtaining good wares at unheard-of low prices. With all this our Louisewas held in great consideration in all the shops of the city, and wasserved with the greatest zeal and respect; whilst, on the contrary, Petrea, who never bargained about anything, and always took that whichwas first offered to her, at all events when she was alone, was notesteemed in the least, and always obtained bad, and at the same timedear goods. True it is that Petrea went a-shopping as little aspossible; whilst Louise, on the contrary, who took the difficult part ofcommissioner for all her friends and acquaintance, was about as much athome in a shop as in her own wardrobe. 

It was unanimously decided that Sara, Louise, and Eva should all wearthe same dress on the evening of the great ball at Axelholm, which wouldbe given on the day they arrived there; namely, that they should wearwhite muslin dresses, with pale pink sashes, and roses in their hair. Petrea was enraptured by this project, and did not doubt but that hersisters would be universally known by the appellation of "the threeGraces. " For her own part, she would willingly have been called Venus, but, alas! that was not to be thought of. She studied her face in allthe glasses in the house--"It is not so very bad-looking, " thought she, "if the nose were only different. " Petrea was to appear at the ball insky-blue; and "the little lady" was quite enraptured by therose-coloured gauze dress which her mother was making for her. 

The toilet occupied every one, body and soul. 

FOOTNOTES:

[7] Hemkommeöl, literally, coming-home-ale. The names of many of thedomestic festivities of Sweden remind us very much of those of our ownold festivities; as church-ales, christening-ales, etc. : thus, barnsöl, the christening-feast; graföl, burial-feast; arföl, the feast given bythe heir on descent of property, etc. --M. H. 

CHAPTER VI. 

CONFUSION. 

A fine mizzling rain fell without; and Jacobi, with secret horror, beheld Louise equipped in the "court-preacher, " which became her so ill, ready to go out with Eva, under shelter of the "family-roof, " in orderto make good bargains. In the mean time Sara took her music lesson withSchwartz, but had promised Petrea to go out with her in the afternoon, in order to make good bargains likewise. 

"Henrik!" said Jacobi to his young friend, "I fancy that we too aregoing out on a 'good bargain' expedition. I want a pair of gloves, and----"

"And perhaps we shall meet the sisters in the shop, " said Henrik, waggishly. 

"Quite right, " returned Jacobi, smiling; "but, Henrik, cannot you tellyour sister Louise that she should not wear that horrible black cloak? Ideclare she does not look as----indeed she does not look well in it. "

"Don't you think that I have told her so already?" replied Henrik. "Ihave preached so long against the 'court-preacher, ' that he ought longago to have been banished from respectable society; but it is all to nopurpose. He has worked himself so completely into the good graces of ourgracious oldest, that depend upon it, my brother, we must endure him allour lives long. And what think you? I almost fancy our Cousin ofOestanvik likes him!"

"Nay, " said Jacobi, "one can very well see that that creature has awretched taste--a true Hottentot taste!"

"And is that the reason, " remarked Henrik, "that he likes Louise?"

"Hum!" said Jacobi. 

At dinner-time the bargaining young ladies came back, attended by thebargaining gentlemen, who had, after all, gone about peacefully with the"court-preacher. " Louise was quite full of glory; never in her wholelife before had she made more lucky bargains. 

"Look, sisters, " said she, "this muslin for a crown-banco[8] the ell! Isit not a charming colour? I have saved in it alone twelve shillings. [9]And see these ribbons which I have got for four-and-twenty shillings theell--thirty were asked. Are they not beautiful?--will they not lookmagnificently?--is it not a real discovery?--did you ever hear ofanything like it? Sara, if you will go to the same shop as I do, youwill get all at the same price. I have made that agreement for you atthree places: at Bergvall's, and at Åström's, and Madame Florea's forthe flowers. "

Sara thanked her, but said she had altered her plans; she did not intendto have the same dress as Louise and Eva, but another, which pleased herbetter. 

The sisters were astonished, and rather vexed; Louise quite offended. Had they not already agreed about it? What was to become of the ThreeGraces?

Sara answered, that the third Grace might be whoever she would, but forher part she should not have that honour. 

The sisters thought her very ungracious. 

Eva ran up to Leonore in order to show her her purchases. 

"Look at this rose, Leonore, " said she, "is it not very pretty? just asif it were natural! And these ribbons!"

"Yes, yes, " said Leonore, with a depressed voice, regarding theseornaments with a gloomy look; and then pushing them from her so hastilythat they fell on the floor, burst into tears. Eva was quite concerned;a book had fallen on her beautiful rose and had crushed it. For onemoment Eva shed tears over her flower, the next over her sister. 

"Why have you done so, Leonore?" said she; "you must be very ill, or areyou displeased with me?"

"No, no!" said poor Leonore; "forgive me, and leave me. "

"Why?" asked Eva. "Ah, do not weep--do not distress yourself. It wasquite thoughtless of me to come here and----But I will bid farewell toall the magnificence; I will not go to the ball; I will stop at homewith you, only tell me that you love me, and that you would like me todo so. Just say so--say so!"

"No, no!" said Leonore, passionately, and turning away from theaffectionate comforter; "I do not like it! You teaze me, all of you, with this talk of stopping at home on my account. I know very well thatI am not such as any one would wish to please--I am neither merry norgood. Go, Eva, to those who are merry, and follow them. Leave me, leaveme in peace, that is all that I desire. "

Eva retired weeping, and with the crushed rose in her hand. 

In the afternoon, when Petrea was ready to go out on the promisedexpedition, she found Sara also was in an ill-humour. She would go, butonly on Petrea's account; she had no intention of buying anything; shehad not money enough wherewith to make purchases; she would not go tothe festival; she could not have any pleasure if she did; nothing in theworld gave one any pleasure when one had not things exactly to one's ownwishes. 

Petrea was quite confounded by this sudden change, and sought in allpossible ways to discover the cause of it. 

"But why, " asked she, with tears in her eyes, "will you not go with us?"

"Because I will not go, " answered Sara, "if I cannot go with honour, andin my own way! I will not be mixed up in a mass of every-day mediocrepeople! It is in my power to become distinguished and uncommon. That isnow, for once, my humour. I will not live to be trammelled. I wouldrather not live at all!"

"Ah!" exclaimed Petrea, who now comprehended what was working in Sara, whilst her eyes flashed with sudden joy--"ah, is it nothing more thanthat? Dear Sara, take all that I possess; take it, I beseech you! Do younot believe that it gives me a thousand times the pleasure if I see youhappy and beautiful, than if I possessed the most glorious things in theworld? Take it, best, dearest Sara! I pray you, on my knees, to take it, and then if there be enough you can buy what you like and go withus--else the whole splendour will be good for nothing!"

"Ah, Petrea, and you?" asked Sara. 

"Ah, " said Petrea, "I'll just furbish up my gauze dress, and keep alittle money for some ribbon, and then all is done; and as for the rest, it does not matter how I look. Be only contented, Sara, and do as I bidyou. "

"But ought I? Can I?" asked Sara. "Ah, no, Petrea, I could not do it!Your little all! And then it would not be sufficient. "

"Ah, yes, " said Petrea, "make it sufficient. We can go to Louise'sshops, and one gets everything so cheap there. I shall never be happyagain if you do not do as I pray you. See now, you are my good, dearSara! Thank you, thank you! Ah, now am I so light at heart! Now I neednot trouble myself about the blessed toilet. And that is a great gainfor me!"

The bird that sits on the swinging bough is not lighter of mood thanPetrea was as she went out with Sara, who was far less cheerful, but whostill had never been more friendly towards Petrea. 

It went thus with Petrea's purchase of ribbon:--In passing agingerbread-booth she saw a little chimney-sweeper, who was casting themost loving glances on some purple-red apples, and Petrea, with themoney in her hand, could not resist the desire of making him a presentof them, and felt more than rewarded as she saw the boy's white teethshining forth from their black neighbourhood, first in smiles at her, and then as they attacked the juicy fruit. Her own mouth watered at it, and as she now cast her eyes round the booth, and saw such beautifulbergamotte-pears--the favourite fruit of her mother--and suchmagnificent oranges, that would please Leonore so much!--the result was, that Petrea's reticule was filled with fruit, and the ribbon--for thatthere was not now money enough. 

"But, " consoled herself Petrea, "Louise has such a deal of oldribbon--she can very well lend me some. " Petrea thought like all badmanagers. 

When Sara and Petrea returned from the shopping expedition, Louise sawdirectly that the things which Sara had bought must far have exceededher means; and besides this, Louise justly thought that they wereunseemly for a young girl of her station. She saw without saying oneword the white silk; the blue gauze for the tunic; the beautiful whiteand yellow asters for the hair, and the other ornaments which Sara, notwithout vanity, displayed. 

"And what have you bought, Petrea?" now asked Louise; "let us see yourbargains. "

Petrea replied, with a blush, that she--had bought nothing yet. 

Not long afterwards Petrea came to Louise, and besought her, with acertain bashfulness, to lend her some ribbon. 

"Good Petrea, " said Louise, displeased, "I want my ribbons myself, andyou have had money just as well as I or any of the others, to buy whatyou may want. "

Petrea was silent, and tears were in her eyes. 

"I did not think, Louise, " said Sara, hotly, "that you would have beenso covetous as to refuse Petrea some old ribbons which you are certainnot to want yourself. "

"And I, Sara, " returned Louise in the same tone, "I could not havebelieved that you would have so abused Petrea's good-nature and weaknesstowards you as to take from her her little share, just to indulge yourown vanity! It appears to me especially blameworthy, as it has led toexpenses which far exceed the means of our parents. "

"Sara did not desire anything from me, " said Petrea, with warmth; "Iinsisted upon it; I compelled her. "

"And above all, Sara, " continued Louise, with stern seriousness, "I musttell you that the dress you have chosen appears to me neither modest norbecoming. I am quite persuaded that Schwartz has induced you to deviatefrom our first project; and I must tell you, dear Sara, that were I inyour place I would not allow such a person to have such an influencewith me; nor is this the only instance in which your behaviour to himhas not appeared to me what it ought to be, not such as becomes thedignity of a woman, or what I should wish in a sister _of mine_. I amvery sorry to say this. "

"Oh, you are quite too good!" returned Sara, throwing back her head, andwith a scornful smile; "but don't trouble yourself, Louise, for I assureyou that it gives me very little concern what pleases you or what doesnot. "

"So much the worse for you, Sara, " said Louise, "that you concernyourself so little for those who are your true friends. I, besides, amnot the only one whom your behaviour to Schwartz displeases. Eva----"

"Yes, Sara, " interrupted Eva, blushing, "I think too that you do notconduct yourself towards him as is becoming, for----"

"Sisters, " said Sara, with warmth and pride, "you cannot judge of whatis seemly for me. You have no right to censure my conduct, and I willnot endure----"

"I think, too, " said Petrea, warmly, "that if our mother has saidnothing, nobody else has any right----"

"Silence, dear Petrea, " said Louise; "you are silly and blind to----"

At this moment of disunion and confusion, when all the sisters werebeginning to speak at once, and that with the tongues of indignation andreproof, a deep and mournful sigh was suddenly heard, which silencedall, and turned every eye to the door of the little boudoir. The motherstood there, with her hands clasped against her breast, pale, and withan expression of pain on her countenance, which sent a quick pang ofconscience through the hearts of the daughters. As all remained silent, she came softly forward, and said, with a voice of emotion:

"Why? ah, why, my dear girls, is all this? No! Now, no explanations;there is error and blame on one side, perhaps also on more. But why thisbitterness, this incautious outbreak of injurious words? Ah, you knownot what you are doing! You know not what a hell sisters can make forone another, if they cherish such tempers. You know not how bitternessand harshness may grow among you to a dreadful habit; how you may becometormenting spirits to each other, and embitter each others' lives. Andit could be so different! Sisters might be like good angels the one tothe other, and make the paternal home like a heaven upon earth! I haveseen both the one and the other in families: a greater contrast is notto be found on earth. Ah, think, think only that every day, nay, everyhour, you are working to shape the future. Reflect that you may gladdenand beautify your lives, or embitter them, according as you now act. Mydear girls, bethink you that it is in your power to make your parents, your family, yourselves, either very happy or very unhappy!"

The daughters were silent, and were penetrated by the deep emotion whichexpressed itself in the words of their mother, in her pale countenance, and in her tearful looks. They felt strongly the truth of all that shehad said. With a torrent of tears, Petrea ran out of the room; Sarafollowed her silently; Eva threw herself caressingly on her mother'sneck; but Louise said:

"I have only spoken the truth to Sara. It is not my fault if it beunpleasant for her to hear it. "

"Ah, Louise!" returned her mother, "this is constantly said in theworld, and yet so much division and hatred prevail between those who sayit. It is the blind belief in our own faultlessness, it is the hard andassuming spirit of correction, which excite the temper, and make thetruth unproductive of good. Why should we present truth in a disfiguringdress, when she is in herself so pure and beautiful? I know, my deargirl, that you only wish to do that which is right and good, and whoeveraims rightly at that object will not fail of the means also. "

"Must I then dissimulate?" asked Louise. "Must I conceal my thoughts, and be silent respecting that which I think wrong? That may indeed beprudent, but it certainly is not Christian. "

"Become Christian in temper, my child, " said the mother, "and you willeasily discover the means of doing what is right in a proper andeffectual manner. You will learn to speak the truth without wounding; atruly pure, truly affectionate spirit wounds no one, not even intrifles. For that reason, one need not to be silent when one shouldspeak, but----"

"'_C'est le ton qui fait la chanson!_' Is it not so? he, he, he!"interposed the shrill voice of Mrs. Gunilla, who had come in unobserved, and who thus put an end to the discourse. Soon afterwards the Assessormade his appearance, and they two fell into conversation, though not, ascommonly, into strife with each other. Mrs. Gunilla lamented to himrespecting Pyrrhus; she was quite in trouble about the little animal, which had now for some time had a pain in the foot, which it always layand licked, and which, spite of that and of other means, got ratherworse than better. She did not know what she was to do with the littlefavourite. The Assessor besought her, in the kindest manner, to allowhim to undertake his treatment. He said he had always been much moresuccessful in curing dogs than men, and that dogs were far moreagreeable, and far nicer patients than their masters. Mrs. Gunillathanked him much, and was heartily glad of his offer, and the followingmorning, she said, Pyrrhus should be conveyed to him. 

The family assembled themselves for tea, and the quick eyes of Mrs. Gunilla soon discovered that all was not quite as it should be. 

"Listen, now, " said she, "my little Elise. I know that there will befestivities, and balls, and banquets, given there at----_chose_! what dothey call it? and of course the young people here should all be at themand figure a little. If there be any little embarrassments about thetoilet in which I can help, tell me candidly. Good heavens! one canimagine that easily. Young girls!--a rosette is wanted here, and arosette is wanted there, and one thing and another--heart's-dearest! itis so natural. I know it all so well. Now tell me----"

Elise thanked her cordially, but must decline this offer; her daughters, she said, must learn betimes to moderate their desires to their means. 

"Yes, yes, " said Mrs. Gunilla, "but I must tell you, my dear friend, there is no rule without its exception, and if any trifles are wanted, so--think on me. "

Mrs. Gunilla was to-day in such a happy humour; she looked like somebodywho was determined to make some fellow-creature happy. The Assessorcould not get into dispute with her. She rejoiced herself in thecountry, to which she should soon remove; in the spring which was athand, and in the greenness which was approaching. The Assessor rejoicedhimself not at all. "What had one to rejoice about in such a hatefulspring? It was quite impossible to live in such a climate, and it mustbe the will of our Lord God that man should not live, or he would nothave sent such springs. How could people plant potatoes in ice? and howotherwise could they be planted at all this year? And if people couldget no potatoes, they must die of hunger, which was then perhaps thebest part of the history of life. "

On her side, Mrs. Gunilla bethought herself that she would willinglylive. "Our Lord God, " she said, "would take care that people hadpotatoes!" and then she looked with an expression of cordial sympathy onthe troubled and distressed countenances of the young girls. 

"When Eva, dear, is as old as I, " said she, patting her gently on herwhite neck, "she will know nothing more of all that which so distressesher now. "

"Ah! to be sixty years old!" exclaimed Eva, smiling, though with a tearin her eye. 

"You'll get well on to sixty--well on; he, he, he, he!" said Mrs. Gunilla, consolingly. "Heart's-dearest! it goes before one thinks of it!But only be merry and cheerful. Amuse yourselves at----_chose_! what doyou call it? and then come and tell me all about it. Do that nicely, andthen I shall get my share of the fun though I am not there. That comesof the so-to-be envied sixty years, Eva, dear! he, he, he, he!"

The sun set bright and glorious. Mrs. Gunilla went to the window, andsent a little greeting towards the sun, whose beams, glancing throughthe trees of the opposite churchyard, seemed to salute her in return. 

"It looks as if one should have a fine day to-morrow, " said Mrs. Gunillato herself, gently, and looking very happy. 

People place youth and age opposite to each other, as the light andshade in the day of life. But has not every day, every age, its ownyouth--its own new attractive life, if one only sets about rightly toenjoy them? Yes, the aged man, who has collected together purerecollections for his evening companions, is many degrees happier thanthe youth who, with a restless heart, stands only at the beginning ofhis journey. No passions disturb the coffee-cup of the other--norestless endeavours disturb the cheerful gossip of the evening twilight;all the little comforts of life are then so thoroughly enjoyed; and wecan then, with more confidence, cast all our cares and anxieties on God. We have then proved Him. 

FOOTNOTES:

[8] Crown-banco, equal to one shilling and sixpence English money. 

[9] A shilling Swedish is equal to about one farthing English. 

CHAPTER VII. 

DISENTANGLING. 

"There are certainly too many bitter almonds in this almond-mass;nothing tastes good to me this afternoon, " said Elise, who set down aglass of almond-milk, and sighed--but not for the almond-milk. 

"Be pleased with us, dear mother, " whispered Eva, tenderly; "we are allfriends again!"

The mother saw it in their beautiful beaming eyes; she read it inLouise's quiet glance as she turned round from the table, where she washelping Sara with her tunic, and looked at her mother. Elise noddedjoyfully both to her and Eva, and drank to them the glass ofalmond-milk, which now appeared to have become suddenly sweet, sopleased did she look as she again set down the glass. 

"Mamma, dear, " said Gabriele, "we must certainly do something towardspoor Petrea's toilet, otherwise she will not be presentable. "

But Louise took Petrea's gauze-dress secretly in hand, and sate up overit till midnight, and adorned it so with her own ribbons and lace thatit was more presentable than it had ever been before. 

Petrea kissed her skilful hands for all that they had done. Eva--yet wewill, for the present, keep silent on her arrangements. 

But dost thou know, oh, reader!--yes, certainly thou dost!--the zephyrswhich call forth spring in the land of the soul--which call forthflowers, and make the air pure and delicious? Certainly thou knowestthem--the little easy, quiet, unpretending, almost invisible, and yetpowerful--in one word, human kindnesses. 

Since these have taken up their abode in the Franks' family we seenothing that can prevent a general joyful party of pleasure. Butyes!--it is true--

PETREA'S NOSE!

This was, as we have often remarked, large and somewhat clumsy. Petreahad great desire to unform it, particularly for the approachingfestivities. 

"What _have_ you done to your nose? What is amiss with your nose?" werethe questions which assailed Petrea on all sides, as she came down tobreakfast on the morning of the journey. 

Half laughing and half crying, Petrea related how she had made use ofsome innocent machinery during the night, by which she had hopedsomewhat to alter the form of this offending feature, the consequence ofwhich had unfortunately been the fixing a fiery red saddle across it, and a considerable swelling beside. 

"Don't cry, my dear girl, " said her mother, bathing it withoatmeal-water, "it will only inflame your nose the more. "

"Ah, " burst forth poor Petrea, "anybody is really unfortunate who hassuch a nose as mine! What in the world can they do with it? They must gointo a convent. "

"It is very much better, " said the mother, "to do as one of my friendsdid, who had a very large nose, much larger than yours, Petrea. "

"Ah, what did she do?" asked Petrea, eagerly. 

"She made herself so beloved, that her nose was beloved too, " said hermother. "Her friends declared that they saw nothing so gladly as hernose as it came in at the door, and that without it she would have beennothing. "

Petrea laughed, and looked quite cheerful. "Ah, " said she, "if my nosecan but be beloved, I shall be quite reconciled to it. "

"You must endeavour to grow above it!" said the good, prudent mother, jestingly, but significantly. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

THE DAY OF THE JOURNEY. 

On the morning of the important day all was in lively motion. TheAssessor sent Eva a large bouquet of most remarkably beautiful naturalflowers, which she immediately divided among her sisters. The Judgehimself, in a frenzy of activity, packed the things of his wife anddaughters, and protested that nobody could do it better than he, andthat nobody could make so many things go into one box as he could. Thelast was willingly conceded to him, but a little demur arose as to theexcellency of the packing. The ladies asserted that he rumpled theirdresses; the Judge asserted that there was no danger on that account, that everything would be found remarkably smooth, and stood zealous andwarm in his shirt-sleeves beside the travelling-case, grumbling a littleat every fresh dress that was handed to him, and then exclaimingimmediately afterwards, "Have you more yet, girls? I have more room. Dogive me more! See now! that? and that? and that? and----now, in the nameof all weathers, is there no end of your articles? Give them here, mygirls! Let that alone, child! I shall soon lay it straight! What?rumple them, shall I? Well, they can be unrumpled again, that's all! Arethere no smoothing-irons in the world? What? so, so, my girls! Have youany more? I can yet put something more in. "

They were to set off immediately after dinner, in order to be atAxelholm, which lay about two miles[10] from the city, ready for the ballin the evening. By dinner-time all boxes were packed, and all temperscleared, more especially that of the Judge, who was so contented withhis morning's work that he almost imparted his delight to those who atfirst were not altogether satisfied with it. 

Petrea ate nothing but a pancake, with a little snow milk to it, inorder that she might dance all the lighter. 

"Above all things, my friends, " prayed the Judge, "be precise, and beready at half-past three; the carriages come then to the door, do notlet me have to wait for you. "

Precisely at half-past three the Judge went to the doors of his wife anddaughters. 

"Mamma! girls! it is time to go!" said he. "The clock has struckhalf-past three! The carriages are here!"

"Directly, directly!" was answered from all sides. The Judge waited; heknew from experience what this "directly" meant. 

In the fever of his punctuality his blood began to boil, and he walkedup and down the hall with great steps, talking with himself: "It isshocking, though, " argued he, "that they never are ready! but I won't beangry! Even if they make me angry, I will not spoil their pleasure. Butpatience is necessary, more than Job had!"

Whilst he was thus moralising with himself, he heard the voice of hiswife saying, with decision, in the library, "Come now, dear girls! Inheaven's name, don't keep the father waiting! I know, indeed, how itannoys him----!"

"But he said nothing the day before yesterday, " Petrea's voice was heardto return, "though he had then to wait for us. (I can't think what Ihave done with my gloves!)"

"And precisely on that account he shall not wait a moment longer forus, " said the mother; "and never again, if I can help it; so, if you arenot ready girls, I shall run away without you!"

The mother ran, and all the daughters ran merrily after her. 

The father remarked with pleasure, that love has a far more effectualpower than fear, and all were soon seated in the carriage. 

We will allow them to roll away, and will now pay a little visit to

LEONORE'S CHAMBER. 

Leonore sate solitary. She supported her sick head on her hand. She hadimpelled herself to answer kindly the leave-taking kiss of her motherand sisters; she had seen how they sought to repress their joy beforeher; and she had particularly remarked a sort of half-concealed roguishjoy in the glance which was exchanged between Eva and her mother, whichhad pained her. She had heard their happy voices on the stairs, and thenthe driving away of the carriages. Now they were gone; now all was stilland desolate in the house, and large tears traced their way downLeonore's cheeks. She seemed to herself so forlorn, so uncared for, sosolitary in the world!

At that moment the door was softly opened, a smiling face looked in, anda light fascinating figure sprang forward through the chamber towardsher, kissed her, laughed, and glanced with roguish and ardent affectioninto her astonished face. 

"Eva!" exclaimed Leonore, scarcely trusting her eyes; "Eva, are youhere? How! whither came you? Are you not gone with the others?"

"No, as you see, " returned Eva, embracing her, laughing, and lookingquite happy; "I am here, and mean to stay here. "

"But why? What is the meaning of it?" asked Leonore. 

"Because I would much rather remain here with you than go anywhereelse, " said Eva. "I have bid Axelholm with all its splendours good day. "

"Ah! why have you done so? I would much rather you had not!" saidLeonore. 

"See you! I knew that, " returned her sister, "and therefore I put on atravelling dress, like the rest, and took leave of you with them. Iwanted to take you by surprise, you see. You are not angry with me, areyou? You must now be contented with it--you can't get rid of me! Look alittle happy on me, Leonore!"

"I cannot Eva, " said Leonore, "because you have robbed yourself of agreat pleasure on my account, and I know that it must have beendifficult for you. I know that I am neither agreeable nor pleasing, andthat you cannot love me, nor yet have pleasure with me, and on thataccount I cannot have pleasure in your sacrifice. It becomes you to bewith the joyful and the happy. Ah! that you had but gone with them!"

"Do not talk so, unless you would make me weep, " said Eva; "you do notknow how the thought of giving up all these festivities in order toremain alone with you has given me pleasure for many days, and thisprecisely because I love you, Leonore! yes, because I feel that I couldlove you better than all the rest! Nay, do not shake your head--it isso. One cannot help one's feelings. "

"But why should you love me?" argued the poor girl; "I am, indeed, solittle amiable, nobody can endure me, nobody has pleasure in me; I wouldwillingly die. Ah! I often think it would be so beautiful to die!"

"How can you talk so, Leonore?" said her sister; "it is not right! Wouldyou wish such horrible grief to papa and mamma, and me, and all of us?"

"Ah!" said Leonore, "you and the sisters would soon comfort yourselves. Mamma does not love me as much as any of you others; nor papa either. Ottil R. Said the other day that everybody talked of it--that I wasbeloved neither by father nor mother. "

"Fie!" exclaimed Eva, "that was wicked and unjust of Ottil. I am quitecertain that our parents love us all alike. Have you ever observed thatthey unjustly make any difference between us?"

"That I never have, " said Leonore; "they are too good and perfect forthat. But, do you think I have not observed with how different anexpression my father regards me to that with which he looks on you orLouise? Do you think that I do not feel how cold, and at timesconstrained, is the kiss which my mother gives me, to the two, thethree, yes, the many, which, out of the fulness of her heart, she givesto you or to Gabriele? But I do not complain of injustice. I see verywell that it cannot be otherwise. Nature has made me so disagreeable, that it is not possible people can bear me. Ah! fortunate indeed arethey who possess an agreeable exterior! They win the good-will of peopleif they only show themselves. It is so easy for them to be amiable, andto be beloved! But difficult, very difficult is it for those who areill-favoured as I!"

"But, dear Leonore, I assure you, you are unjust towards yourself. Yourfigure, for example, is very good; your eyes have something soexpressive, something at the same time so soft and so earnest; your hairis fine, and is of a beautiful brown;--it would become you so if it werebetter dressed; but wait awhile, when you are better I will help you todo it, and then you shall see. "

"And my mouth, " said poor Leonore, "that goes from ear to ear, and mynose is so flat and so long--how can you mend that?"

"Your mouth?" replied Eva, "why yes, it is a little large; but yourteeth are regular, and with a little more care, would be quite white. And your nose?--let me see--yes, if there were a little elevation, alittle ridge in it, it would be quite good, too! Let me see, I reallybelieve it begins to elevate itself!--yes, actually, I see plainlyenough the beginning of a ridge! and do you know, if it come, and whenyou are well, and have naturally a fresh colour, I think that you willbe really pretty!"

"Ah! if I can ever believe that!" said Leonore, sighing, at the sametime that an involuntary smile lit up her countenance. 

"And even if you are not so very lovely, " continued Eva, "you know thatyet you can be infinitely agreeable; you have something peculiarly so inyour demeanour. I heard papa say so this very day to mamma. "

"Did he really say so?" said Leonore, her countenance growing brighterand brighter. 

"Yes, indeed he did!" replied her sister. "But, ah! Leonore, after all, what is beauty? It fades away, and at last is laid in the black earth, and becomes dust; and even whilst it is blooming, it is notall-sufficient to make us either beloved or happy! It certainly has notan intrinsic value. "

Never was the power of beauty depreciated by more beautiful lips!Leonore looked at her and sighed. 

"No, Leonore, " continued she, "do not trouble yourself to be beautiful. This, it is true, may at times be very pleasant, but it certainly is notnecessary to make us either beloved or happy. I am convinced that if youwere not in the least prettier than you are, yet that you might if youwould, in your own peculiar way, be as much in favour and as muchbeloved as the prettiest girls in the world. "

"Ah!" said Leonore, "if I were only beloved by my nearest connexions!What a divine thing it must be to be beloved by one's own family!"

"But that you can be--that you will be, if you only will! Ah! if youonly were always as you are sometimes--and you are more and more so--andI love you more and more--infinitely I love you!"

"Oh, beloved Eva, " said Leonore, deeply affected, whilst she leanedherself quietly on her sister, "I have very little deserved this fromyou; but, for the future, I will be different--I will be such as youwould have me. I will endeavour to be good and amiable. "

"And then you will be so lovely, so beloved, and so happy!" said Eva, "that it would be a real delight. But now you must come down intoLouise's and my room. There is something there for you; you must changethe air a little. Come, come!"

"Ah, how charming!" was Leonore's exclamation as she entered Eva'schamber; and in fact nothing could be imagined more charming than thatlittle abode of peace, adorned as it now was by the coquetry ofaffection. The most delicious odour of fruit and flowers filled the air, and the sun threw his friendly beams on a table near the sofa, on whicha basket filled with beautiful fruit stood enticingly in the midst ofmany pretty and tastefully arranged trifles. 

"Here, dear Leonore, " said Eva, "you will remain during this time. Itwill do you good to leave your room a little. And look, they have allleft you an offering! This gothic church of bronze is from Jacobi. It isa lamp! do you see? Light comes through the church window;--howbeautiful! We will light it this evening. And this fruit here--do yousee the beautiful grapes? All these are a plot between Henrik andPetrea. The copperplate engravings are from my father; Louise has workedyou the slippers; and the little lady, she----"

Leonore clasped her hands. "Is it possible, " said she, "that you allhave thought so much about me! How good you are--ah, too good!"

"Nay, do not weep, sweet Leonore, " said Eva; "you should not weep, youshould be joyful. But the best part of the entertainment remains yetbehind. Do you see this new novel of Miss Edgeworth's? Mamma has givenus this, for us to read together. I will read to you aloud tillmidnight, if you will. A delicate little supper has been prepared for usby Louise, and we shall sup up here. We'll have a banquet in our ownway. Take now one of those big grapes which grow two on one stem, and Iwill take the other. The king's health! Oh, glorious!"

Whilst the two sisters are banqueting at their own innocent feast, wewill see how it goes on in the great company at

AXELHOLM. 

Things are not carried on in so enviably easy and unconstrained a mannerat every ball as at that of the citizens in the good little city of* * * ping, where one saw the baker's wife and the confectioner's wifewaltzing together, but altogether in a wrong fashion, to which the restonly said, "It does not signify, if they only go on!" Oh, no! suchsimplicity as that is very rarely met with, and least of all among thoseof whom we write. 

At Axelholm, as at other great balls, the rocky shores ofconventionality made it impossible to move without a thousandceremonies, proprieties, dubiosities, formalities, and all the rest, which, taken together, make up a vast sum of difficulties. The greatball at Axelholm was not without pretension, and on that account notwithout its stiff difficulties. Among these may be reckoned that severalof the young gentlemen considered themselves too old, or too----to danceat all, and that, in consequence, many of the dance-loving ladies couldnot dance at all either, because, on account of the threateningeye-glasses of the gentlemen, they had not courage to dance with oneanother. Nevertheless the scene looked like one of pure delight. Thegreat saloon so splendidly lighted, and a vast assembly collected there!

It is now the moment just before the dancing begins; the gentlemen standin a great group in the middle of the room, spreading themselves out indirect or wavy lines towards the circle of ladies. These sit, likeflowers in the garden beds, on the benches round the room, mostly inbashful stillness; whilst a few, in the consciousness of zephyr-likelightness, float about the room like butterflies. All look happy; alltalk one with another, with all that animation, that reciprocalgood-will, which the sight of so much beauty, united to theconsciousness that they themselves are wearing their best looks, as wellas the expectation of pleasure, infuses. 

Now the music begins to sound; now young hearts beat with more or lessdisquiet; now go the engaged ones, amid the jostlings of the servants, who are perpetually soliciting the young ladies to partake of the nowdisdained tea. There one saw several young girls numerously surrounded, who were studying the promised dances which were inscribed on the ivoryof their fans, declining fervent solicitations for the third, fourth, fifth--nay, even up to the twelfth dance; but, fascinatingly-gracious, promising themselves for the thirteenth, which perhaps may never bedanced; whilst others in their neighbourhood sit quiet and undisturbed, waiting for the first invitation, in order thereto to say a willing andthankful yes. Among the many-surrounded and the much-solicited, we maysee Sara and even Louise. With these emulated the three MissesAftonstjerna--Isabella, Stella, and Aurora--who stood constantly roundthe chair of the Countess Solenstråle, which was placed before the greatmirror at the far end of the saloon. Among those who sat expectantly, inthe most beautiful repose, we shall discover our Petrea, whonevertheless, with her bandeau of pearls in her hair, and a certainbloom of innocence and goodness in her youthful countenance, lookeduncommonly well. Her heart beat with an indescribable desire to beengaged. 

"Ah!" sighed she, as she saw two most elegant young men, the twobrothers B----, walking round the circle of ladies, with theireye-glasses in their hands. Their eye-glasses rested for a moment onPetrea; the one whispered something in the ear of the other; bothsmiled, and went on. Petrea felt humiliated, she knew not why. 

"Now!" thought she, as Lieutenant S---- approached her quickly. ButLieutenant S---- came to engage Miss T----, and Petrea remained sitting. The music played the liveliest _anglaise_, and Petrea's feet were all inagitation to be moving. 

"Ah!" thought she, "if I were but a man I would engage Petrea. "

The _anglaise_ streamed past Petrea's nose. 

"Where is Eva?" asked Jeremias Munter, in a hasty and displeased tone, from Louise, in the pause between the _anglaise_ and the waltz. 

"She has remained at home with Leonore, " said Louise; "she wasdetermined upon it. "

"How stupid!" exclaimed he; "why did I come here then. "

"Nay, that I really cannot tell!" returned Louise, smiling. 

"Not!" retorted the Assessor. "Now then I will tell you, sister Louise, I came here entirely to see Eva dance--solely and altogether on thataccount, and for nothing else. What a stupid affair it was that sheshould stop at home! You had a great deal better, all the rest of you, have stopped at home together; you yourself, dear sister, reckoned intothe bargain! Petrea, there! what has she to do here? She was always avexation to me, but now I cannot endure her, since she has notunderstanding enough to stay at home in Eva's place; and this littlecurly-pate, which must dance with grown people just as if she were aregular person; could not she find a piece of sugar to keep her at home, instead of coming here to be in a flurry! You are all wearisometogether; and such entertainments as these are the most horrible thingsI know. "

Louise floated away in the waltz with Jacobi, laughing over this sally;and the Countess Solenstråle, the sun of the ball, said as she passedher chair, "Charmant, charmant!"

Besides this couple, who distinguished themselves by their easyharmonious motion, there was another, which whirled past in wildcircles, and drew all eyes upon them likewise: this was Sara and theboisterous Schwartz. Her truly beaming beauty, her dress, her haughtybearing, her flashing eyes, called forth a universal ah! of astonishmentand admiration. Petrea forgot that she was sitting while she looked uponher. She thought that she had never seen anything so transporting asSara in the whirl of the dance. But the Countess Solenstråle, as shesate in her chair, said of this couple--nothing; nay, people evenimagined that they read an expression of displeasure in her countenance. The Misses Aftonstjerna sailed round with much dignity. 

"My dear girl, " said Elise kindly, but seriously, to Sara after thewaltz, "you must not dance thus; your chest will not allow it. How warmyou are! You really burn!"

"It is my climate, " answered Sara; "it agrees with me excellently. "

"I beseech you sit this dance. It is positively injurious to you to heatyourself thus, " said Elise. 

"This dance?" returned Sara; "impossible! I am engaged for it to ColonelH----. "

"Then, do not dance the next, " besought Elise; "if you would do me apleasure, do not dance it with Schwartz. He dances in such a wild manneras is prejudicial to the health; besides which, it is hardly becoming. "

"It gives me pleasure to dance with him, " answered Sara, both with prideand insolence, as she withdrew; and the mother, wounded and displeased, returned to her seat. 

The Countess Solenstråle lavished compliments on Elise on account of herchildren. "They are positively the ornament of the room, " saidshe;--"_charmant!_ and your son a most prepossessing young man--sohandsome and _comme il faut_! A charming ball!"

Isabella Aftonstjerna threw beaming glances on the handsome Henrik. 

"What madness this dancing is!" said Mr. Munter, as with a strongexpression of weariness and melancholy he seated himself beside Evelina. "_Nay_, look how they hop about and exert themselves, as if without thisthey could not get thin enough; then, good heavens! how difficult itseems, and how ugly it is! As if this could give them any pleasure! Forsome of them it seems as if it were day-labour, and as if it were afrenzy to others; and for a third, a kind of affectation; nay, I must gomy ways, for I shall become mad or splenetic if I look any longer onthis super-extra folly!"

"If Eva Frank were dancing too, you would not think it so, " saidEvelina, with a well-bred smile. 

"Eva!" repeated he, whilst a light seemed to diffuse itself over hiscountenance, and his eyes suddenly beamed with pleasure--"Eva! no! Ibelieve so too. To see her dance is to see living harmony. Ah! itenlivens my mind if I only see her figure, her gait, her slightestmovement; and then to know that all this harmony, all this beauty, isnot mere paint--not mere outside; but that it is the true expression ofthe soul! I find myself actually better when I am near her; and I haveoften a real desire to thank her for the sentiments which she instilsinto me. In fact, she is my benefactress; and I can assure you that itreconciles me to mankind and to myself, that I can feel thus to afellow-creature. I cannot describe how agreeable it is, because commonlythere is so much to vex oneself about in this so-called masterpiece ofthe Creator!"

"But, best friend, " said Evelina, "why are you so vexed? Most peoplehave still----"

"Ah, don't go and make yourself an _ange de clémence_ for mankind, " saidhe, "in order to exalt secretly yourself over me, otherwise I shall bevexed with you; and you belong to the class that I can best endure. Whydo I vex myself? What a stupid question! Why are people stupid andwearisome, and yet make themselves important with their stupidity? Andwherefore am I myself such a melancholy personage, worse than anybodyelse, and should have withal such a pair of quick eyes, as if only onpurpose to see the infirmities and perversions of the world? There may, however, in my case be sufficient reason for all this. When one has hadthe fancy to come into the world against all order and Christian usage;has seen neither father nor mother beside one's cradle; heard nothing, seen nothing, learned nothing, which is in the least either beautiful orinstructive--one has not entered upon life very merrily. And then, afterall, to be called Munter![11] Good heavens! Munter! Had I been calledBlannius, or Skarnius, or Brummerius, or Grubblerius, or Rhabarberius, there might have been some sense in the joke; but Munter! I ask you now, is it not enough to make a man splenetic and melancholy all the days ofhis life? And then, to have been born into the world with a continualcold, and since then never to have been able to look up to heavenwithout sneezing--do you find that merry or edifying. Well, and then!after I had worked my way successfully through the schools, the dust ofbooks, and the hall of anatomy, and had come to hate them allthoroughly, and to love that which was beautiful in nature and in art, am I to thank my stars that I must win my daily bread by studying andcaring for all that is miserable and revolting in the world, and hourlyto go about among jaundice, and colic, and disease of the lungs? On thisaccount I never can be anything but a melancholy creature! Yes, indeed, if there were not the lilies on the earth, the stars in heaven, andbeyond all these some one Being who must be glorious--and were there notamong mankind the human-rose Eva--the beautiful, fascinating Eva, then----"

He paused; a tear stood in his eye; but the expression of hiscountenance soon was changed when he perceived no less than five younggirls--they danced now the "free choice"--and among them the threeenchanting Miss Aftonstjernas, who, all locked together, came dancingtowards him with a roguish expression. He cast towards them the verygrimmest of his glances, rose up suddenly, and hastened away. 

Sara danced the second waltz with Schwartz, yet wilder than the first. Elise turned her eyes away from her with inward displeasure; butPetrea's heart beat with secret desire for a dance as wild, and shefollowed their whirlings with sparkling eyes. 

"Oh, " thought she, "if one could only fly through life in a joyful whirllike that!"

It was the sixth dance, and Petrea was sitting yet. She felt her nosered and swollen. "See now!" thought she, "farewell to all hopes ofdancing! It must be that I am ugly, and nobody will look at me!" At thesame moment she was aware of the eye of her mother fixed upon her with acertain expression of discomfort, and that glance was to her like a stabat the heart; but the next moment her heart raised itself in oppositionto that depressing feeling which seemed about to overcome her. "It isunpleasant, " thought she, "but it cannot be altered, and it is no faultof mine! And as nobody will give me any pleasure, I will even find somefor myself. "

Scarcely had Petrea made this determination, than she felt herself quitecheered; a spring of independence and freedom bubbled up within her; shefelt as if she were able even to take down the chandelier from theceiling, and all the more so when she saw so many life-enjoying peopleskipping around her. 

At this moment an old gentleman rose up from a bench opposite Petrea, with a tea-cup in his hand. In a mania of officiousness she rushedforward in order to assist him in setting it aside. He drew himselfback, and held the cup firmly, whilst Petrea, with the most firm andunwearying "Permit me, sir, " seemed determined to take it. The strifeabout the cup continued amid the unending bows of the gentleman, and theequally unending curtseys of Petrea, until a passing waltzing couplegave a jostle, without the least ceremony whatever to thecompliment-makers, which occasioned a shake of the tea-cup, and revealedto Petrea the last thing in the world which she had imagined, that thecup was not empty! Shocked and embarrassed, she let go her hold, andallowed the old gentleman, with what remained of his cup of tea, to goand find out for himself a securer place. Petrea seated herself, shehardly knew how, on a bench near an elderly lady, who looked at her verygood-naturedly, and who helped very kindly to wipe off the ablution oftea which she had received. Petrea felt herself quite confidential withthis excellent person, and inquired from her what was her opinion ofSwedenborg, beginning also to give her own thoughts on spectral visions, ghosts, etc. The lady looked at her, as if she thought she might be alittle deranged, and then hastened to change her place. 

A stout military gentleman sat himself down ponderously, with a deepsigh, on the seat which the old lady had left, as if he were saying tohimself, "Ah, thank God! here I can sit in peace!" But, no! he had notsate there three minutes and a half when he found himself called upon byPetrea to avow his political faith, and invited by her to unite in thewish of speedy war with Russia. Lieutenant-Colonel Uh----turned rather adeaf ear to the battery by which his neighbour assailed him, but for allthat he probably felt it not the less heavy, because after severallittle sham coughs he rose up, and left our Petrea alone with herwarlike thoughts. 

She also rose, from the necessity she felt of looking elsewhere for moresympathy and interest. 

"In heaven's name, dear Petrea, keep your seat!" whispered Louise, whoencountered her on her search for adventures. 

Petrea now cast her eyes on a young girl who seemed to have had nobetter dancing fortune than herself, but who seemed to bear it muchworse, appeared weary of sitting, and could hardly refrain from tears. Petrea, in whose disposition it lay to impart to others whatever sheherself possessed--sometimes overlooking the trifling fact that what shepossessed was very little desired by others--and feeling herself now inpossession of a considerable degree of prowess, wished to impart some ofthe same to her companion in misfortune, and seated herself by her forthat purpose. 

"I know not a soul here, and I find it so horribly wearisome, " was theunasked outpouring of soul which greeted Petrea, and which went directlyto her sympathising heart. 

Petrea named every person she knew in the company to the youngunfortunate, and then, in order to escape from the weight of thepresent, began to unfold great plans and undertakings for the future. She endeavoured to induce her new acquaintance to give her her _paroled'honneur_ that she would sometime conduct a social theatre with her, which would assist greatly to make social life more interesting; andfurther than that, that they should establish together a society ofSisters of Charity in Sweden, and make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem;furthermore, that they would write novels together; and that on thefollowing day, or more properly in the night, they would rise athalf-past two o'clock, and climb to the top of a high mountain in orderto see the sun rise; and finally, after all these, and sundry otherpropositions, Petrea suggested to her new acquaintance a thee-and-thoufriendship between them! But, ah! neither Petrea's great prowess, norher great plans; neither the social theatre, nor the pilgrimage toJerusalem, least of all the thee-and-thou friendship, availed anythingtowards enlivening the churlish young girl. Petrea saw plainly that aninvitation to dance would avail more than all her propositions, so, sighing deeply because she was not a man to offer so great a pleasure, she rose up, and left the object of her vain endeavours. 

She looked round for a new subject, and her eye fell on the CountessSolenstråle. Petrea was dazzled, and became possessed of the frenzieddesire to become acquainted with her, to be noticed by her; in short, insome kind of way to approach the sun of the ball, fancying thereby thata little glory would be reflected upon herself. But how was she tomanage it? If the Countess would but let fall her handkerchief, or herfan, she might dart forward and pick it up, and then deliver it to herwith a compliment in verse. Petrea, hereupon, began to improvise toherself; there was something, of course, about the sun in it. Undoubtedly this would delight the Countess, and give occasion to moreacquaintance, and perhaps--but, ah! she dropped neither handkerchief norfan, and no opportunity seemed likely to occur in which she could makeuse of her poem with effect. In the mean time she felt drawn as by asecret influence (like the planet to the sun) ever nearer and nearer tothe queen of the saloon. The Aftonstjernas were now standing, beamingaround her, bending their white and pearl-ornamented necks to listen toher jesting observations, and between whiles replying with smiles to thepoliteness and solicitations of elegant gentlemen. It looked magnificentand beautiful, and Petrea sighed from the ardent longing to ascend tothe _haute volée_. 

At this moment Jacobi, quite warm, came hastening towards her to engageher for the following quadrille. 

Petrea joyfully thanked him; but suddenly reddening to the resemblanceof a peony with her mania of participation, she added, "Might I acceptyour invitation for another person? Do me the great pleasure to ask thatyoung girl that sits there in the window at our left. "

"But why?" asked Jacobi; "why will not you?"

"I earnestly beseech you to do it!" said Petrea. "It would give megreater pleasure to see her dancing than if I danced myself. "

Jacobi made some friendly objections, but did in the end as sherequested. 

It was a great pleasure to Petrea to perceive the influence of thisengagement on her young friend. But Fate and the Candidate seemeddetermined to make Petrea dance this quadrille; and a young officerpresented himself before her in splendid uniform, with dark eyes, darkhair, large dark moustache, martial size, and very martial mien. Petreahad no occasion, and no disposition either, to return anything but a"yes" to this son of Mars. In fact, she never expected to receive a morehonourable invitation; and a few minutes later she found herselfstanding close beside the chair of the Countess Solenstråle, dancing inthe same quadrille with the Aftonstjernas, and _vis-ā-vis_ with theCandidate. Petrea felt herself highly exalted, and would have beenperfectly prosperous had it not been for her restless demon, whichincessantly spurred her with the desire of coming in closer contact withthe beautiful, magnificent lady to whom she stood so near. To tread uponher foot or her dress, might, it is true, have furnished an easyoccasion for many fine and reverential excuses; but, at the same time, this would be neither polite nor agreeable. To fall in some kind of waybefore her feet, and then, when graciously raised by the Countess, tothank her in a verse, in which the _sun_ played a conspicuous part, would have been incontestibly better; but now--Petrea must dance on!

Was it that our Petrea really was so addled (if people will graciouslyallow us such an expression) that she had no right power over her limbs, or did it happen from want of ballast, in consequence of the slenderdinner she had eaten, or was it the result of her usual distraction--weknow not; but this much is certain, that she in _chassée_-ing on theright hand, on which she had to pass her _vis-ā-vis_, made an error, andcame directly up to him. He withdrew to the other side, but Petrea wasalready there: and as the Candidate again withdrew to the right, therewas she again; and amid all this _chassée_-ing her feet got so entangledwith his, that as he made a despairing attempt to pass her, it sohappened that both fell down in the middle of the quadrille!

When Petrea, with tears in her eyes, again stood upright, she saw beforeher the eye-glass gentlemen, the two brothers B. , who were nearly dyingwith laughter. A hasty glance convinced Petrea that her mother sawnothing of it; and a second glance, that she had _now_ attracted theattention of the Countess Solenstråle, who was smiling behind her fan. The first observation consoled her for the last; and she ferventlyassured Jacobi, who was heartily distressed on her account, that she hadnot hurt herself; that it signified nothing; that it was her fault, etc. , etc. ; cast a tranquil glance on the yet laughing gentlemen, and_chasséed_ boldly back again. But what, however, made the deepestimpression on Petrea, was the conduct of her partner, and his suddenlyaltered behaviour. He brought the continued and unbecoming merriment ofthe brothers B. To an end by one determined glance; and he who hithertohad been parsimonious of words, and who had only answered all herattempts at being entertaining by a yes or a no, now became quiteconversable, polite, and agreeable, and endeavoured in every possibleway to divert her attention from the unpleasant accident which had justoccurred, engaging her moreover for the _anglaise_ after supper. 

Petrea understood his kindness; tears came into her eyes, and her heartbeat for joy at the thought of hastening to her mother after thequadrille, and saying, "Mamma, I am engaged for the _anglaise_ aftersupper. "

But no thought, no feeling, could remain in tranquillity with the poorlittle "Chaos;" so many others came rushing in, that the first werequite effaced. Her first impression of the kindness of Lieutenant Y. Was, "how good he is!" the second was, "perhaps he may endure me!" Andhereupon a flood of imagined courtesy and courtship poured in, whichalmost turned her head. But she would not marry, heaven forbid! yetstill it would be a divine thing to have a lover, and to be oneself "anobject" of passion, like Sara and Louise. Perhaps the young LieutenantY. Might be related to the Countess Solenstråle, and, oh heavens! howwell it would sound when it was said, "A nephew of the CountessSolenstråle is a passionate admirer of Petrea Frank!" What a comingforth that would be! A less thing than that might make one dizzy. Petreawas highly excited by these imaginings, and was suddenly changed by theminto an actual coquette, who set herself at work by all possible meansto enslave "her object;" in which a little, and for the moment verywhite, hand (for even hands have their moments), figuring about thehead, played a conspicuous part. Petrea's amazing animation andtalkativeness directed the eye-glass of her mother--for her mother wassomewhat short-sighted--often in this direction, and called forthglances besides from Louise, which positively would have operated with avery subduing effect, had not Petrea been too much excited to remarkthem. The observations and smiles of her neighbours Petrea mistook fortokens of applause; but she deceived herself, for they only amusedthemselves with the little coquetting, but not very dangerous lady. Lieutenant Y. , nevertheless, seemed to find pleasure in her liveliness, for when the quadrille was ended, he continued a dispute which hadcommenced during it, and for this purpose conducted her into one of thelittle side rooms, which strengthened her in the idea of having made aconquest. Isabella Aftonstjerna was singing there a little French song, the refrain of which was--

 Hommage ā la plus belle, Honneur au plus vaillant!

The world was all brightness to Petrea: the song carried her back to thebeautiful days of knighthood: Lieutenant Y. Appeared to her as the idealof knightly honour, and the glass opposite showed her own face and nosein such an advantageous light, that she, meeting herself there allbeaming with joy, fancied herself almost handsome. A beautiful rose-treewas blossoming in the window, and Petrea, breaking off a flower, presented it to the Lieutenant, with the words--

 Honneur au plus vaillant. 

Petrea thought that this was remarkably striking and apropos, andsecretly expected that her knight would lay the myrtle-spray with whichhe was playing at her feet, adding very appropriately--

 Hommage ā la plus belle. 

"Most humble thanks!" said Lieutenant Y. , taking the rose withmisfortune-promising indifference. But Fate delivered Petrea from theunpleasantness of waiting in vain for a politeness she desired, forsuddenly there arose a disturbance in the ball-room, and voices wereheard which said, "She is fainting! Gracious heaven! Sara!"

Myrtle-spray, knight, conquest, all vanished now from Petrea's mind, andwith a cry of horror she rushed from Lieutenant Y. Into the ball-room atthe very moment when Sara was carried out fainting. The violent dancinghad produced dizziness; but taken into a cool room, and sprinkled witheau de Cologne and water, she soon recovered, and complained only ofhorrible headache. This was a common ailment of Sara's, but was quicklyremoved when a certain remedy was at hand. 

"My drops!" prayed Sara, in a faint voice. 

"Where? where?" asked Petrea, with a feeling as if she would run toChina. 

"In the little box in our chamber, " said Sara. 

Quick as thought sped the kind Petrea across the court to the east wing. She sought through the chamber where their things were, but the box wasnot to be found. It must have been left in the carriage. But where wasthe carriage? It was locked up in the coach-house. And where was the keyof the coach-house?

Great was Petrea's fatigue before she obtained this; before she reachedthe coach-house; and then before, with a lantern in her hand, she hadfound the missing box. Great also, on the other hand, was her joy, asbreathless, but triumphant, she hastened up to Sara with the littlebottle of medicine in her hand, and for reward she received the not lessagreeable commission of dropping out sixty drops for Sara. Scarcely, however, was the medicine swallowed, when Sara exclaimed with violence:

"You have killed me, Petrea! You have given me poison! It isunquestionably Louise's elixir!"

It was so! The wrong bottle had been brought, and great was theperplexity. 

"You do everything so left-handedly, Petrea!" exclaimed Sara, inill-humour; "you are like the ass in the fable, that would break thehead of his friend in driving away a fly!"

These were hard words for poor Petrea, who was just about to run offagain in order to redeem her error. This, added to other agitation ofmind, brought tears to her eyes, and blood to her head. Her nose beganviolently to bleed. Louise, excited against Sara by her severity toPetrea, and some little also by her calling her elixir poison, threwupon her a look of great displeasure, and devoted herself to the weepingand bleeding Petrea. 

Whether it was the spirit of anger that dispersed Sara's headache, oractually Louise's elixir (Louise was firmly persuaded that it was thelatter), we know not; but certain it was that Sara very soon recoveredand returned to the company, without saying one consoling word toPetrea. 

Petrea was in no condition to appear at the supper-table, and Louisekindly remained with her. Aunt Evelina, Laura, Karin, and even the ladyof the War-Councillor herself, brought them delicacies. Amid so muchkindness, Petrea could not do otherwise than become again tranquil andlively. She should, she thought, after all, dance the _anglaise_ aftersupper with "le plus vaillant, " as she called the Lieutenant, who hadtruly captivated her evidently not steeled heart. 

The _anglaise_ had already begun as the sisters entered the ball-room. The Candidate hastened to meet them quite in an uneasy state of mind; hehad engaged Louise for this dance, and they now stood up together in thecrowd of dancers. Petrea expected, likewise, that "le plus vaillant"would rush up to her and seize her hand; but as she cast a hasty glancearound, she perceived him, not rushing towards her, but dancing withSara, who was looking more beautiful and brilliant than ever. The rosewhich Petrea had given him--faithless knight!--together with themyrtle-sprig on which she had speculated, were both of them placed inSara's bosom. The eyes of "le plus vaillaut" were incessantly rivetedupon "la plus belle, " as Sara was then unanimously declared to be. Theglory of the Aftonstjernas paled in the night, as they were too muchheated by dancing, but Sara's star burned brighter and brighter. She wasintroduced to the Countess Solenstråle, who paid her charmingcompliments, and called her "la reine du bal, " at which theAftonstjernas looked displeased. 

"Thousand devils, how handsome she is!" exclaimed the old gentleman whohad striven with Petrea about the tea-cup, and who now, without beingaware of it, trod upon her foot as he thrust himself before her to get abetter view of "la reine du bal. "

Overlooked, humiliated, silent, and dejected, Petrea withdrew intoanother room. The scenes of the evening passed in review before hersoul, and appeared now quite in an altered light. The mirror which a fewhours before had flattered her with the notion that she might be called_la plus belle_, now showed her her face red and unsightly; she thoughtherself the most ridiculous and unfortunate of human beings. She felt atthis moment a kind of hostility against herself. She thought onsomething which she was preparing for Sara, and which was to be anagreeable surprise to her, and which was to be made known to her in afew days--she thought of this, and in that moment of trouble the thoughtof it, like a sunbeam on dark clouds, brightened the night in her soul. The thought of gratifying one, who on this evening had so deeplywounded her, gave a mild and beneficial turn to her mind. 

After supper, a balcony in the saloon adjoining the ball-room wasopened, in order somewhat to cool the heated atmosphere of the room. 

Two persons, a lady and gentleman, stepped into the balcony; a lightwhite shawl was thrown over the lady's shoulders; stars garlanded herdark hair; stars flashed in her black eyes, which glanced fiercelyaround into free space. 

There lay over the landscape the deliciously mysterious half-darkness ofa May-night, a magical veil which half hides and half reveals itsbeauty, and which calls forth mysterious forebodings. A mighty andentrancing revelation of the gloriousness of life seemed to sing in thewind, which passed tranquilly murmuring through space, shone in thestars, and wandered high above earth. 

"Ah, life! life!" exclaimed she, and stretched forth her arms towardsspace, as if she would embrace it. 

"Enchanting girl!" said he, while he seized her hand, "my life belongsto you!"

"Conduct me forth into free, fresh life, " said she, without withdrawingher hand, and looking haughtily at him all the while, "and my handbelongs to you! But remember you this, that I will be free--free as thewind which now kisses your forehead, and lifts those topmost branches ofthe tree! I love freedom, power, and honour! Conduct me to these, helpme to obtain these, and my gratitude will secure to you my love; willfetter me to you with stronger bonds than those of ceremony andprejudice, to which I only submit out of regard to those who otherwisewould weep over me, and whom I would not willingly distress more thanthere is need for. It shall not bind us more than we ourselves wish. Freedom shall be the knitting and the loosening of our bond!"

"Beautiful woman!" answered he, "raised above the hypocrisy ofweakness--above the darkness of prejudice--I admire you and obey you!Only to such a woman can my will submit! My beautiful scholar is becomemy teacher! Well, then, let the hand of the priest unite us; my handshall conduct you up to that brilliant throne which your beauty and yourtalents deserve! I will only elevate you in order, as now, to fallbefore your feet the most devoted of your servants!"

He dropped upon one knee before her; and she, bending herself towardshim, let her lips touch his forehead. He threw his arms round her, andheld her for one moment bent towards him. A supercilious, scornfulexpression, unobserved by her, played upon his lips. 

"Release me, Hermann! some one comes, " said she; he did so, and as sheraised her proud neck against his will, a dark flash of indignationburned in her eyes. 

They withdrew, and another couple stepped out into the balcony. 

He. Wait, let me wrap my cloak better round you; the wind is cool. 

She. Ah, how beautiful to feel how it wraps us both! Do you see how weare here standing between heaven and earth, separated from all theworld?

He. I do not see it--I see my lovely world in my arms! I have you, Laura! Laura, tell me, are you happy?

She. Ah, no!

He. How?

She. Ah, I am not happy because I am too happy! I fancy I never can havedeserved this happiness. I cannot conceive how it came to my share. Ah, Arvid! to live thus with you, with my mother, my sister, all that I mostlove--and then to be yours ever, ever!

He. Say eternally, my Laura! Our union belongs as much to heaven as toearth, here as there; to all eternity I am yours, and you are mine!

She. Hush, my Arvid! I hear my mother's voice--she calls me. Let us goto her. 

They returned into the room, and presently another couple stepped on thebalcony. 

He. Cousin Louise, do you like evening air? Cousin Louise, I fancy, israther romantic. Cousin, do you like the stars? I am a great friend ofthe stars too; I think on what the poet sings:

 ----silently as Egypt's priests They move. 

Look, Cousin Louise, towards the corner, in the west there liesOestanvik. If it would give you any pleasure to make a little tourthere, I would beg that I might drive you there in my new landau. Ireally think, Cousin Louise, that Oestanvik would please you: thepeaches and the vines are just now in full bloom; it is a beautifulsight. 

A deep sigh is heard. 

She. Who sighs so?

A Voice. Somebody who is poor, and who now, for the first time, enviesthe rich. 

He. Oh rich! rich! God forbid! rich I am not exactly. One has one'scompetency, thank God! One has wherewith to live. I can honestlymaintain myself and a family. I sow two hundred bushels of wheat; andwhat do you think, Cousin Louise--but where is Cousin Louise?

A Voice. It seemed to her, no doubt, as if a cold wind came over herefrom Oestanvik. 

At the moment when the gentlemen returned to the room, a girl came intothe balcony. She was alone. The misfortunes of the evening depressed herheart, and were felt to be so much more humiliating because they were ofsuch a mean kind. Some burning tears stole quickly and silently over hercheeks. The evening wind kissed them gently away. She looked up toheaven; never had it seemed to her so high and glorious. Her soul raiseditself, mounted even higher than her glance, up to the mighty friend ofhuman hearts; and He gave to hers a presentiment that a time would come, when, in his love, she would be reconciled to and forget all adversitiesof earth. 

 * * * * *

The days at Axelholm wore on merrily amid ever-varying delights. Petreawrote long letters, in prose and in verse, to her sisters at home, andimparted to them all that occurred here. Her own misfortunes, which sheeven exaggerated, she described in such a comic manner that those verythings which were at first distressing to her, were made a spring ofhearty merriment both to herself and to her family. 

She received one day a letter from her father, which contained thefollowing words:

 "My good Child, "Your letters, my dear child, give me and your sisters great pleasure; not merely on account of the lively things which they contain, but more especially on account of your way of bearing that which is anything but lively. Continue to do thus, my child, and you--my heart rejoices in the thought--will advance on the way to wisdom and happiness, and you will have joyfully to acknowledge the blessed truth which the history of great things, as well as of small, establishes, that there is nothing evil which may not be made conducive to good; and thus our own errors may be made steps on our way to improvement. 

 "Greet your sisters cordially from their and your tenderly devoted

 "Father. "

Petrea kissed these lines with tears of grateful joy. She wore them forseveral days near her heart; she preserved them through her whole lifeas one of the endeared means by which she had gone happily through thechromatic scale of existence. 

Louise was joked much about Cousin Thure; Cousin Thure was joked muchabout Louise; it pleased him very much to be joked about her, to be toldthat Oestanvik wanted a mistress, that he himself wanted a pretty wife, and that without doubt Louise Frank was one of the most sensible as wellas one of the prettiest girls in the country; and more than this, wasbesides of such a respectable family! The Landed-proprietor receivedalready felicitations on his betrothal. 

What the bride-elect, however, thought on the matter was more difficultto fathom. She was certainly always polite to Cousin Thure; still thispoliteness seemed expressive rather of indifference than friendship; andshe declined, with a decision amazing to many people, his pressing andoften repeated solicitations to make an excursion to Oestanvik in hisnew landau, drawn by what he styled "his foxes--his four horses in onerein. " Many people asserted that the agreeable and cordial Jacobi wasmuch nearer to Louise's heart than the rich Landed-proprietor! but eventowards Jacobi her conduct was so equal, so tranquil, so unconstrained, that nobody could exactly tell how it might be. Nobody knew so well aswe do, that Louise considered it consistent with the dignity of woman toshow only perfect indifference to the attentions or _doux-propos_ ofmen, until they had been openly and fully declared. Louise despisedcoquetry so far as to dread anything which bordered on the very limitsof it. Her young female friends joked with her upon her strict notionson this head, and fancied that she would remain unmarried. 

"That may be, " said Louise, calmly. 

They told her one day of a gentleman who said "I will not stand upbefore any girl who is not some little of a coquette. "

"Then he may remain sitting, " answered Louise, with much dignity. 

Louise's views of the dignity of woman, her grave and decidedprinciples, and her manner of expressing them, amused her young friends, whilst at the same time they inspired for her a true esteem, and gaveoccasion for many little contentions and discussions, in which Louiseintrepidly, though not without some little warmth, maintained the rightsof the cause. These contentions, however, which began in merriment, didnot always terminate so. 

A young and rather coquettish lady was one day wounded by the severitywith which Louise spoke of the coquetry of her sex, and particularly ofmarried ladies, and in revenge she used an expression which excitedLouise's astonishment and anger. An explanation followed between thetwo, the result of which was not only their perfect estrangement, but analtered state of mind in Louise which she in vain endeavoured toconceal. 

During the first days of her stay at Axelholm she had been uncommonlyjoyous and lively; now she was quiet, thoughtful, often absent, andtowards the Candidate, as it seemed, less friendly than formerly, whilstshe lent a more willing ear to the Landed-proprietor, although she stillresolutely withstood his proposal of a drive to Oestanvik. 

On the evening of the day after this explanation, Elise was engaged in alively conversation with Jacobi on the balcony. 

"And if, " said he, "I endeavour to win her heart, would herparents--would her mother see it without displeasure? Ah, speak candidlywith me; the well-being of my life depends upon it. "

"You have my accordance, my good wishes, Jacobi, " returned Elise. "I sayto you what I have already said to my husband, that I should willinglycall you son. "

"Oh!" exclaimed Jacobi, deeply moved, and falling on one knee, whilst hepressed her hand to his lips--"oh that my whole life might evidence toyou my gratitude and my love--!"

At this very moment, Louise, who had been seeking her mother, approachedthe balcony; she saw Jacobi's action, and heard his words: she withdrewquickly, as if she had been stung by a snake. 

From this time a great change was more and more perceptible in her. Still, reserved, and very pale, she moved about like one in a dream, amid the lively circles of Axelholm, and agreed willingly to theproposition which her mother, who was uneasy on her account, made oftheir stay being shortened. Jacobi, as much astonished as distressed bythe sudden unfriendliness of Louise towards him, began to think that theplace must in some kind of way be bewitched, and desired more thananybody else to get away from it. 

FOOTNOTES:

[10] A mile Swedish is equal to six English miles. 

[11] Merry, in Swedish. 

CHAPTER IX. 

THE RETURN HOME. 

What was it that Jacobi and Henrik had so much to arrange togetherbefore their departure from Axelholm, and even whilst they were there?Petrea's curiosity was terribly excited, but she could not come at anyclue by which to satisfy it. Some kind of plot which concerned thefamily, seemed to be in agitation. 

Henrik and his friend had long intended to give a little entertainmentto the family, and the opportunity to do so now seemed favourable, aswell as also to combine it with an agreeable surprise; the scene ofwhich should be a pretty and good Inn, half way between Axelholm and thecity. Here, on their return, they would halt under pretence of somerepair being necessary to one of the carriages, and the ladies should bepersuaded to enter the house, where, in the mean time, all should beprepared. 

The two friends had greatly delighted themselves over this scheme, andin order to obtain for Louise her favourite luxury of ices, Jacobi haddrained his already reduced purse. 

In going to Axelholm the family had so divided themselves that Louisewith Petrea went in what is called a Medewi-carriage, the Judge's ownequipage, which was driven by Jacobi, with whom Henrik sate on thedriving-box, whilst the mother and the other daughters went in a coveredhired carriage, driven by the Judge himself. On the return, the samearrangement was to be observed, with the difference of Jacobi drivingthe large carriage, and Henrik driving his sisters. 

The mother, and even the young gentlemen, declared with becomingdiscretion that they would not confide the reins to less skilful hands, because the road was rough and hilly, and moreover bad from rain. Notwithstanding all this, however, Jacobi intrigued so that, contrary tothe established arrangement, he mounted the coach-box of the youngladies, and Henrik that of his mother. But the Candidate had not muchpleasure from so doing, since "the object" was no longer such as she wasduring the drive thither. At that time she was more cheerful thancommon; rejoiced so heartily over the spring air, over the song of thelark; over fields, and cows, and cottages, and over everything that shesaw, communicating all her delight to Jacobi, who sate all the way onthe driving-box with his face turned towards the carriage (Henriksolemnly advised him to fix himself in this reversed position), andtheir blue eyes then rested on each other with a spring of puredevotion. Now, everything was otherwise: "the object" appeared to giveattention to nothing. She leaned back in the carriage with her veil overher face, and a cathedral is far more conversable than she; for itspeaks through the tongue in its tower, but Louise's tongue wasperfectly dumb, and Petrea's, which once never ceased, enlivened hernot. In vain Jacobi sought to catch Louise's eye. She avoided him, andhe was quite cast down. 

After having been many times most properly jogged and shaken, theyarrived fortunately at the wayside inn; yet no! not so fortunatelyeither, one of the carriage-wheels was discovered to be somewhat broken:it was not dangerously so, oh no, heaven forbid that! but it must ofnecessity be mended before they could proceed further. Henrik prayed hismother and sisters while this was doing to alight and enter the inn, thehost and hostess of which now stood at the door, and with bows andcurtseys besought the travellers to enter. The host came himself andopened the carriage-doors. Elise was startled, and uttered anexclamation of surprise;--the host really and truly must be her husband;and the hostess, the very prettiest hostess in the world, was bodily herdaughter Eva! The travelling daughters, too, were as much astonished, made all kinds of exclamations, and recognised in host and hostessfather and sister. But neither host nor hostess were confounded, norallowed themselves to be confused by the confusion of the travellers;they knew themselves too well who they were, and knew, too, how toconduct themselves in their office. They led their guests, with manyapologies and politenesses, up to two large and handsome rooms, and herethe host, quite in despair, began to bustle about, and to summon bothmaid and waiter. At last the waiter came in his blue apron. A newmiracle! He was a living image of the Candidate! And now came the maid. A new amazement! A handsomer person, or one that more nearly resembledHenrik it would have been impossible to find! But she went aboutclumsily, and had nearly fallen down, stumbling first with this, andthen with that. The host scolded her vehemently on account of herclumsiness, and scolded the waiter also till he made them both cry, atleast so it seemed; whereupon he chased them both out with the order toreturn instantly with refreshments. The host, now again in brilliant, excellent, polite humour, let fly with his own hand the corks of twochampagne bottles, poured out, and drank with the ladies. After they hadrefreshed themselves with all kinds of delicious eating, amid the mostlively conversation, some person, who called himself Noah's grandson, was announced, requesting permission to exhibit to the company variousstrange animals and other beautiful curiosities, which had been found inthe ark. The grandson of Noah was called in by a great majority ofvoices, and a face presented itself at the door which, with theexception of a certain grey beard, bore a great resemblance to JeremiasMunter. His menagerie, and his cabinet of art, were set out in anotherroom, into which the company were conducted; and there manystrangely-formed creatures were exhibited, and little scenesrepresented, to which Noah's grandson gave explanations and madespeeches which were almost as humorous and witty (to be quite so wasimpossible) as those of Japhet, in that wonderful and exquisite book, "Noah's Ark. "[12] Two other grandsons of Noah, who bore no resemblance toany acquaintance of the family, assisted at this exhibition, at the endof which Noah's learned grandson gave to each of the spectators a littlesouvenir from the contents of the ark, and that with so much tact, thatevery one received precisely the thing which gave him pleasure. Louise, moreover, received a remarkable sermon, which was preached by FatherNoah himself on the first Sunday of his abode in the ark. But near thetitle-page of this same sermon she found a piece of poetry whichevidently bore a later date. Louise did not, however, read it then, butblushing very deeply, put it carefully by. 

The whole affair might have been as merry as it was droll, had notLouise--herself the most important person in the entertainment--been inno state of mind to enjoy it. But although she used her utmost endeavourto take part in all the diversion, and to appear cheerful, she becameevery moment more depressed; and when at last the ices came, and thewaiter, with the utmost cordiality beaming from his eyes, urged her totake a vanilla-ice, she was only just able to taste it, upon which sheset it down, rushed out of the room, and burst into a convulsive fit ofweeping. This was a thing so unusual with Louise, that it occasioned ageneral perplexity. Host, hostess, maid, waiter, Noah's grandson, allthrew off their characters; and all illusion, as well as all reality offestivity, were at an end. It is true that Louise composed herselfspeedily, besought pardon, and assigned as the cause of her emotionsudden spasm in the chest. Elise and Eva, and more particularly Petrea, endeavoured, on account of Henrik and Jacobi, to jest back again theformer merriment, but it would not come, and nothing more could succeed. Everybody, but more especially Jacobi, were out of tune, and they nowbegan to speak of returning home. 

But now all at once the heavy trampling of horses, and a bustle at theinn door was heard, and at the same moment a splendid landau, drawn byfour prancing bays, drew up before it. It was the Landed-proprietor, who, unacquainted with returning there after a short absence, and whohad drawn up at this inn for a moment's breathing-time for his horses, and to order for himself a glass of the beer for which the place wasrenowned. The company which he here so unexpectedly encounteredoccasioned an alteration in his first plan. He determined to accompanythe family to the city, and besought his aunt and cousins to make use ofhis landau. It would certainly please them so much; it went with suchunexampled ease; was so comfortable that one could sleep therein withperfect convenience even on the heaviest roads, etc. , etc. Elise, whoreally had suffered from the merciless shaking of the hired carriage, was inclined to accept the offer; and as it immediately began to rain, and as the Judge preferred the carriage to the chaise in which he haddriven with Eva, the affair was quickly arranged. Elise and some of thedaughters were to go in the landau, which was turned in the mean timeinto a coach; and the Judge and the rest of the company were to dividethemselves among the other carriages. As these were ready to receive thecompany, Jacobi drove his Medewi-carriage close on the landau of theLanded-proprietor, who looked more than once with a dark countenance tosee whether any profane or injurious contact had taken place between thegreat and the little carriage. 

Jacobi's heart beat violently as Louise came out on the steps of the inndoor. The Landed-proprietor stood on one side offering her his hand, andJacobi on the other offering his also, to conduct her to her formerseat. She appeared faint, and moved slowly. She hesitated for onemoment, and then gave, with downcast eyes, her hand to theLanded-proprietor, who assisted her triumphantly into the carriage toher mother, and mounting the box himself, away the next moment dashedthe landau with its four prancing bays. Jacobi laid his hand on hisheart, a choking sensation seemed to deprive him of breath, and withtears in his eyes he watched the handsome departing carriage. He wasroused out of his painful observations by the voice of Petrea, whojestingly announced to him that the enviable happiness awaited him ofdriving herself and the Assessor in the Medewi-carriage. He took hisformer seat in silence; his heart was full of disquiet; andintentionally he remained far behind the others, in order that he mightnot have the least glimpse of the landau. 

Scarcely had the Medewi-carriage again made acquaintance with the rutsof the road, than a violent shock brought off one of the fore wheels, and the Candidate, Petrea, and the Assessor, were tumbled one over theother into the mud. Quickly, however, they were all three once again ontheir feet; Petrea laughing, and the Assessor scolding and fuming. WhenJacobi had discovered that all which had life was unhurt, he lookedlightly on the affair, and began to think how best it might be remedied. A short council was held in the rain, and it was concluded that Jacobishould remain with the carriage till some one came to his assistance, and that in the mean time Petrea and the Assessor should make the bestof their way on foot towards the city, and send, as soon as possible, some people to his help. A labourer, who came by immediately afterwards, promised to do the same, and Petrea and Assessor Munter, who, however, was anything but consistent with his name, began their walk through rainand mud. All this while, however, Petrea became more joyful and happy:firstly, all this was an adventure for her; secondly, she never beforehad been out in such weather; thirdly, she felt herself so light andunencumbered as she scarcely ever had done before; and because shelooked upon her clothes as given up to fate--to a power against whichnone other on earth could contend, she walked on in joy of heart, splashing through the puddles, and feeling with great delight how therain penetrated her dress, and seeing how the colour was washed awayboth from shawl and bonnet. She held her nose high in the air, in orderto enjoy the glorious rain. 

Petrea had in all this a resemblance to her brother, and flatteredherself also that she might have some resemblance to Diogenes; and asher inclination lay towards extremes, she would very willingly beDiogenes, since she could not, as she very well knew, be Alexander. Nowshe perceived that in reality she needed very little of outward comfortsto make her happy; she felt herself in her adverse circumstances so freeand rich; she had become on thee-and-thou terms with the rain-drops, with the wind, with the shrubs and grass, with all nature in short; shehad not here the mishaps and the humiliations to fear which annoyed herso often in company. If the magpies laughed at her, she laughed at themin return. Long life to freedom!

With all these feelings, Petrea got into such excessively high spirits, that she infected therewith her companions in misfortune; or, accordingto her vocabulary, good fortune. But now, however, came on a horribletempest, with hail, whose great stones made themselves _thou_ to such adegree with Petrea's nose as astonished and almost offended her. TheAssessor looked out for shelter; and Petrea, quite charmed that she wasnearly blown away, followed him along a narrow footpath that led intothe wood, onward in the direction of a smoke, which, driven towards themby the storm, seemed to announce that a hospitable hut was at hand wherethey might obtain shelter from the tempest. Whilst they were wanderingabout to discover this, Petrea's fancy, more unrestrained than thestorm, busied itself with unbounded creations of robbers' castles, wisehermits, hidden treasures, and other splendours, to which the smoke wasto conduct her. But ah! they were altogether built up of smoke, since itarose from no other than a charcoal-burner's kiln, and Petrea had notthe smallest desire to make a nearer acquaintance with the hiddendivinity of which this smoke was the evidence. The small hut of thecharcoal-burner, in the form of a sugar-loaf, stood not far from thekiln, the unbolted door of which was opened by the Assessor. No hermit, nor even robber, had his abode therein; the hut was empty, but clean andcompact, and it was with no little pleasure that the Assessor tookpossession of it, and seated himself with Petrea on the only bench whichit possessed. Petrea sighed. What a miserable metamorphosis of herglorious castle in the air!

The prospect which the open door of the hut presented, and which had nointerest for Petrea, appeared, on the contrary, captivating to hercompanion. He was there deep in the wood, in a solitude wild, but stillof an elevating character. The hut stood in an open space, but roundabout it various species of pine-trees stood boldly grouped, and bowedthemselves not before the storm which howled in their tops. Several layfallen on the ground, but evidently from age; grass and flowers grew onthe earth, which these patriarchs of the wood had torn up with theirpowerful roots. Among others, two tall pine-trees stood together: theone was decayed, and seemed about to separate itself from its root; butthe other, young, green, and strong, had so entwined it in itsbranches, that it stood upright, mingling its withered arms with theverdure of the other, and yielding not, although shook by the tempest. The expressive glance of the Assessor rested long on these trees; hiseyes filled with tears; his peculiar, beautiful, but melancholy smileplayed about his lips, and kindly sentiments seemed to fill his breast. He spoke to Petrea of a people of antiquity who dwelt in deserts; hespoke of the pure condition of the Essenes, a morning dawn ofChristendom, and his words ran thus:

"A thirst after holiness drove men and women out of the tumult of theworld, out of great cities, into desert places, in order that they mightdedicate themselves to a pure and perfect life. There they built forthemselves huts, and formed a state, whose law was labour and devotionto God. No earthly possession was enjoyed merely on account of pleasure, but only as the means of a higher life. They strove after purity in souland body; tranquillity and seriousness characterised their demeanour. They assembled together at sunrise, and lifted up hymns and prayers tothe Supreme Being. Seventeen hours of each day were devoted to labour, study, and contemplation. Their wants were few, and therefore life waseasy. Their discourse was elevated, and was occupied by subjects of thesublime learning which belonged to their sect. They believed on oneEternal God, whose existence was light and purity. They sought toapproach him by purity of heart and action, by renunciation of thepleasures of the world, and by humility of heart and mind to understandthe works of the allwise Creator. They believed in quiet abodes on theother side of the desert pilgrimage, where clear waters ran and softwinds blew, where spring and peace had their home; there they hoped toarrive at the end of their journey through life. "

There is no want of rays of light on earth; they penetrate its mistyatmosphere in manifold directions, although human perception is not asmuch aware of them at one time as at another. The words of the Assessormade at this moment an indescribable impression on Petrea. She wept fromthe sweet emotion excited by the description of a condition which was soperfect, and of endeavours which were so holy. It appeared to her as ifshe knew her own vocation, her own path through life; one which wouldrelease her soul from all trifles, all vanities, all disquiets, andwhich would speed her on to light and peace. Whilst these thoughts, orrather sentiments, swelled in her breast, she looked through her tearson her companion, as he sate there with his expressive countenance andhis large beautiful eyes fixed on the scene before him, and she saw inhim, not Jeremias Munter, but a wise hermit, with a soul full of sublimeand holy knowledge. She longed to throw herself at his feet, and beseechhis blessing; to propose to him that he should remain in this solitude, in this hut, with her; that he should teach her wisdom; and she wouldwait upon him as a daughter, or as a servant, would rise with him andpray at sunrise, and do in all things like the Essenes. Thus would theydie to the world, and live only for heaven. 

Overpowered by her excited feelings, surrendered to the transports ofthe moment, and nearly choked with tears, Petrea sank on the breast ofJeremias, stammering forth her undefined wishes. 

If a millstone had fallen round his neck, our good Assessor could nothave been more confounded than he was at that moment. Deeply sunk in hisown thoughts, he had quite forgotten that Petrea was there, tillreminded of her presence in this unexpected manner. But he was a man, nevertheless, who could easily understand the excitement of mind in ayoung girl, and with a pure fervour of eye, whilst a good-humouredsatire played about his mouth, he endeavoured to tranquillise herover-wrought feelings. Beautiful, then, was the discourse he held withher on all that which calms and sanctifies life; on all that on whichman may found his abode whether in the desert or in the human crowd. Hespoke words then which Petrea never forgot, and which often, in a futureday, broke the chaotic state of her soul like beams of pure light. 

In the mean time the tempest had dispersed itself, and the Assessorbegan to think of a return; for Petrea thought nothing about it, butwould willingly have seen herself compelled to pass the night in thegloomy wood. But now the thought of relating her adventures at homeattracted her, and before she got out of the wood these adventures wereincreased, since fate presented her with the good fortune of assisting, with the help of her companion, an old woman, who had fallen with herbundle of sticks, upon her legs again, and of carrying the said bundleto her cottage, and of lighting her fire for her; with releasing twosparrows which a boy had made captive; and, last of all, with releasingthe Assessor himself from a thorn-bush, which, as it appeared, wouldhave held him with such force as vexed even himself. Petrea's hands bledin consequence of this operation, but that only made her the livelier. 

When they came out of the wood, the rain had ceased altogether, the windhad abated, and the setting sun illumined the heavens, and diffused overthe landscape a peculiar and beautiful radiance. The countenance ofJeremias Munter was cheerful; he listened to the ascending song of thelark, and said, "That is beautiful!" He looked upon the rain-drops whichhung on the young grass, and saw how heaven reflected itself in them, and smiled, and said, "That is pure indeed!" Petrea gave to littlechildren that she met with all her savings from the feast at Axelholm, and would willingly also have given them some of her clothes, had shenot had the fear of Louise and her mother before her eyes. She wished inher bravery for more adventures, and more particularly for a longer waythan it at this time appeared to be; she thought she arrived at home toosoon; but the Assessor thought not, neither did the rest of the party, who were beginning to be very uneasy on account of their long absence. In the mean time Petrea and her companion had become very good friendson the walk; Petrea was complimented for her courage, and Henrikpathetically declaimed in her praise--

 Not every one such height as Xenophon can gain, As scholar and as hero, a laurel-wreath obtain;

and they laughed. 

FOOTNOTES:

[12] half-dramatic poem, remarkable for its wit and humour, from the penof the Swedish poet Fahlcrantz. 

CHAPTER X. 

FIRESIDE SCENES. 

"From home may be good, but at home is best!" said Elise from the bottomof her heart, as she was once more in her own house, and beside her ownhusband. 

The young people said nothing in opposition to this sentiment as theyreturned to their comfortable every-day life, which they now enlivenedwith recollections and relations out of the lately-past time. They hopedthat Louise would become pleasant and contented with her calm activityin the house and family as formerly, but it was not so; a gnawing painseemed to consume her; she became perceptibly thinner; her good humourhad vanished, and her eyes were often red with weeping. In vain herparents and sisters endeavoured, with the tenderest anxiety, to fathomthe occasion of the change; she would confess it to no one. That theroot of her grief lay at her heart she would not deny, but she appeareddetermined to conceal it from the eye of day. Jacobi also began to lookpale and thin, since he lamented deeply her state of feeling, and heraltered behaviour, especially towards himself, which led him to thebelief that he unconsciously had wounded her, or in some other way thathe was the cause of her displeasure; and never had he felt more than nowwhat a high value he set upon her, nor how much he loved her. Thistension of mind, and his anxiety to approach Louise, and bring back afriendly understanding between them, occasioned various little scenes, which we will here describe. 

FIRST SCENE. 

Louise sits by the window at her embroidery-frame: Jacobi seats himselfopposite to her. 

Jacobi (sighing). Ah, Mamselle Louise!

Louise looks at her shepherdess, and works on in silence. 

Jacobi. Everything in the world has appeared to me for some timewearisome and oppressive. 

Louise works on, and is silent. 

Jacobi. And you could so easily make all so different. Ah, Louise! onlyone kind word, one friendly glance!--Cannot you bestow one friendlyglance on him who would gladly give everything to see you happy?[_Aside. _ She blushes--she seems moved--she is going to speak! Ah, whatwill she say to me!]

Louise. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, tenstitches to the nose--the pattern is here not very distinct. 

Jacobi. You will not hear me, will not understand me; you play with mydistress! Ah, Louise!

Louise. I want some more wool;--I have left it in my room. [She goes. ]

SECOND SCENE. 

The family is assembled in the library; tea is just finished. Louise, atPetrea's and Gabriele's urgent request, has laid out the cards on alittle table to tell them their fortunes. The Candidate seats himselfnear them, and appears determined to amuse himself with them, and to belively; but "the object" assumes all the more her "cathedral air. " TheLanded-proprietor steps in, bows, snorts, and kisses the hand of the"gracious aunt. "

Landed-proprietor. Very cold this evening; I fancy we shall have frost. 

Elise. It is a gloomy spring. We have lately read a most affectingaccount of the famine in the northern provinces. It is the misfortune ofthese late springs. 

Landed-proprietor. Oh, yes, the famine up there. No, we'll talk ofsomething else--that's too gloomy. I've had my peas covered with straw. Cousin Louise, are you fond of playing Patience? I am very fond of ittoo; it is so composing. At my seat at Oestanvik I have little, littlepatience-cards. I fancy really that they would please my cousin. 

The Landed-proprietor seats himself on the other side of Louise: theCandidate gives some extraordinary shrugs. 

Louise. This is not patience, but a little witchcraft, by which I readFate. Shall I prophesy to you, Cousin Thure?

Landed-proprietor. Oh, yes! prophesy something to me. Nothingdisagreeable! If I hear anything disagreeable in an evening, I alwayshave bad dreams at night. Prophesy me prettily--a little wife--a wife aslovely and as amiable as Cousin Louise. 

The Candidate (with a look as if he would send the Landed-proprietorhead-over-heels to Oestanvik). I don't know whether Mamselle Louiselikes flattery. 

Landed-proprietor (who seems as if he neither heard nor saw his rival). Cousin Louise, are you fond of blue?

Louise. Blue? That is truly a lovely colour; but yet I prefer green. 

Landed-proprietor.. Nay, that is good! that is excellent! At Oestanvikmy dressing-room furniture is blue, beautiful light blue silk damask;but in my sleeping-room I have green moreen. I fancy really, CousinLouise, that----

The Candidate coughs, and then rushes out of the room. Louise looksafter him, sighs, and then examines the cards, in which she finds somany misfortunes for Cousin Thure that he is quite terrified: the peasfrosted, conflagration in the dressing-room, and last of all arejection! The Landed-proprietor declares, notwithstanding, that hefinds nothing of this unpleasant. The sisters smile, and make remarks. 

THIRD SCENE. 

The family assembled after supper:

The Assessor puts the question--What is the bitterest affliction?

Jacobi. Unreturned love. 

Petrea. Not to know what one shall be. 

Eva. To have offended some one that one loves beyond reconciliation. 

The Mother. I am of Eva's opinion; I think nothing can be more painful. 

Louise. Ah! there is yet something more painful than that--somethingmore bitter--and that is to lose one's faith in those whom one hasloved; to doubt--(Louise's lip trembles, she can say no more, becomespale, rises, and goes out quickly; a general sensation ensues). 

The Father. What is amiss with Louise? Elise, we must know what it is!She should, she must tell us! I cannot bear any longer to see her thus;and I will go this moment and speak with her, if you will not rather doit. But you must not be satisfied till you know her very inmostfeelings. The most horrible thing, I think, is mystery and vapours!

The Mother. I will go directly to her. I have now an idea what it is, dearest Ernst; and if I am somewhat long with her, let the others go tobed; I shall then find you alone. [She goes out. ]

FOURTH SCENE. 

_The Mother and Daughter. _

The daughter on her knees, her face buried in her hands; the mothergoes softly up to her and throws her arms around her. 

Mother. Louise, my good girl, what is amiss with you? I have never seenyou thus before. You must tell me what is at your heart--you must!

Louise. I cannot! I ought not!

Mother. You can! you ought! Will you make me, will you make all of uswretched by going on in this way? Ah, Louise, do not let false shame, orfalse tenderness mislead you. Tell me, do you break any oath, or violateany sacred duty, by confessing what it is which depresses you?

Louise. No oath; no sacred duty--and yet----yet----

Mother. Then speak, in heaven's name, my child! Unquestionably someunfounded suspicion is the cause of your present state. What do thewords mean with which you left us this evening? You weep! Louise, Ipray, I beseech of you, if you love me, conceal nothing from me! Who isit that you love, yet can no more have faith in--no longer highlyesteem? Answer me--is it your mother?

Louise. My mother! my mother! Ah, while you look on me thus I feel apain, and yet a confidence! Ah, my God! all may be an error--a miserableslander, and I----Well then, it shall out--that secret which has gnawedmy heart, and which I conceived it my duty to conceal! But forgive me, my mother, if I grieve you; forgive me if my words disturb your peace;forgive me, if in my weakness, if in my doubt I have done you injustice, and remove the grief which has poisoned my life! Ah, do you see, mother, it was mine, it was my sisters' happiness, to consider you sospotless--so angelically pure! It was my pride that you were so, andthat you were my mother! And now----

Mother. And now, Louise?

Louise. And now it has been whispered to me----Oh, I cannot speak thewords!

Mother. Speak them--I demand it! I desire it from you! We both standbefore the Judgment-seat of God!

Louise. I have been led to believe that even my mother was notblameless--that she----

Mother. Go on, Louise!

Louise. That she and Jacobi loved one another--that evil tongues had notblamed them without cause, and that still--I despised these words, Idespised the person who spoke them! I endeavoured to chase thesethoughts as criminal from my soul. On this account it happened that Iwent one day to find you--and I found Jacobi on his knee before you--Iheard him speaking of his love. Now you know all, my mother!

Mother. And what is your belief in all this?

Louise. Ah, I know not what I ought to believe! But since that momentthere has been no peace in my soul, and I have fancied that it neverwould return--that I should never lose the doubt which I could makeknown to no one. 

Mother. Let peace return to your soul, my child! Good God! howunfortunate I should be at this moment if my conscience were not pure!But, thank heaven, my child, your mother has no such fault to reproachherself with; and Jacobi deserves your utmost esteem, your utmostregard. I will entirely and freely confess to you the entire truth ofthat which has made you so uneasy. For one moment, when Jacobi firstcame to us, a warmer sentiment towards me awoke in his young, thoughtless heart, and in part it was returned by me. But you will notcondemn me on account of an involuntary feeling which your father lookedon with pardoning eyes. In a blessed hour we opened to each other ourhearts, and it was his love, his strength and gentleness, which gave mepower to overcome my weakness. Jacobi, at the same moment, woke to aconsciousness of his error, struggled against it, and overcame it. Weseparated soon after, and it was our mutual wish not to meet again forseveral years. In the mean time Henrik was committed to his care, andJacobi has been for him an exemplary friend and instructor. Three yearslater, when I again met him, I extended my hand to him as a sister; andhe----yes, my dear girl! and I err greatly if he did not then begin inhis heart to love me as a mother. But that which then had its beginning, has since then had its completion--it was in the character of a son thatyou saw him kneel to me; thanking me that I would favour his love to mydaughter--to my Louise, who, therefore, has so unnecessarily conjured upa spectre to terrify herself and us all. 

In the latter part of this conversation the mother spoke in a quietjesting tone, which, perhaps, did more even than her simple explanationto reassure the heart of her daughter. She pressed her hands on herheart, and looked thankfully up to heaven. 

"And if, " continued her mother, "you yet entertain any doubt, talk withyour father, talk with Jacobi, and their words will strengthen mine. ButI see you need it not--your heart, my child, is again at peace!"

"Ah, thank God! thank God!" exclaimed Louise, sinking on her kneesbefore her mother, and covering her hands and even her dress withkisses. "Oh, that I dared look up again to you, my mother! Oh, can youforgive my being so weak: my being so easy of belief? Never, never shallI forgive myself!"

Louise was out of herself, her whole frame trembled violently; she hadnever before been in a state of such agitation. Her mother was obligedto apply remedies both for mind and body, tender words and soothingdrops--to tranquillise her excited state. She besought her therefore togo to rest, seated herself beside her bed, took her hands in hers, andthen attempted to divert her mind from the past scene, endeavouring withthe utmost delicacy to turn her mind on the Candidate and on theLanded-proprietor as lovers. But Louise had only one thought, onesentiment--the happy release from her doubt, and thankfulness for it. When her mother saw that she was calmer, she embraced her, "And now goto sleep, my dear girl, " said she; "I must now leave you, in order tohasten to one who waits impatiently for me, and that is your father. Hehas been extremely uneasy on your account, and I can now make him easyby candidly communicating all that has passed between us. For the rest Ican assure you that you have said nothing that can make us uneasy. ThatI was calumniated by one person, and am so still, he knows as well as Ido. He has assisted me to bear it calmly, he is truly so superior, soexcellent! Ah, Louise, it is a great blessing when husband and wife, parents and children, cherish an entire confidence in each other! It isso beautiful, so glorious, to be able to say everything to each other inlove!"

FIFTH SCENE. 

The garden. It is morning! the larks sing, the jonquils fill the airwith odour; the bird's cherry-tree waves in the morning breeze; thecherry blossoms open themselves to the bees which hum about in theirbosom. The sun shines on all its children. 

Louise is walking in the middle alley, Father Noah's sermon in her hand, but with her eyes fixed on the little poem appended to it, which by nomeans had anything to do with Father Noah. The Candidate comes towardsher from a cross walk, with a gloomy air, and with a black pansy in hishand. 

The two meet, and salute each other silently. 

Jacobi. Might I speak one moment with you? I will not detain you long. 

Louise bows her head, is silent, and blushes. 

Jacobi. In an hour's time I shall take my departure, but I must beseechof you to answer me one question before I say farewell to you!

Louise. You going! Where? Why?

Jacobi. Where, is indifferent to me, so that I leave this place; why, because I cannot bear the unkindness of one person who is dear to me, and who, I once thought, cherished a friendship for me! For fourteendays you have behaved in such a way to me as has embittered my life; andwhy? Have I been so unfortunate as to offend you, or to excite yourdispleasure? Why then delay explaining the cause to me? Is it right tosentence any one unheard, and that one a friend--a friend fromchildhood? Is it right--pardon me, Louise--is it Christian, to be sosevere, so immovable? In the sermons which you are so fond of rending, do you find nothing said of kindness and reconciliation!

Jacobi spoke with a fervour, and with such an almost severe seriousness, as was quite foreign to his gentle and cheerful spirit. 

"I have done wrong, " replied Louise, with a deep emotion, "very wrong, but I have been misled; at some future time, perhaps, I may tell youhow. Since last evening, I know how deceived I have been, how I havedeceived myself; and now God be thanked and praised, I know that nobodyis to blame in this affair but myself. I have much, very much, toreproach myself with, on account of my reserve towards my own family, and towards you also. Forgive me, best Jacobi, " continued she, offeringher hand with almost humility; "forgive me, I have been very unkind toyou; but believe me, " added she, "neither have I been happy either!"

"Thanks! thanks, Louise!" exclaimed Jacobi, grasping her hand, andpressing it to his breast and to his lips; "oh, how happy this kindnessmakes me! Now I can breathe again! Now I can leave you with a cheerfulheart!"

"But why will you leave us?" asked she, in a half-discontented tone. 

"Because, " answered Jacobi, "it would not give me pleasure to witness abetrothal which will soon be celebrated; because, from your latebehaviour, I must be convinced you cannot entertain any warmersentiments towards me. "

"If that were the case, " replied she, in the same tone as before, "Ishould not have been depressed so long. "

"How!" exclaimed Jacobi, joyfully. "Ah, Louise, what words! what boldhopes may they not excite! Might I mention them to you? might I ventureto say to you what I some time have thought, and still now think?"

Louise was silent, and Jacobi continued:

"I have thought, " said he, "that the humble, unprovided-for Jacobi couldoffer you a better fortune than your rich neighbour of Oestanvik. I havehoped that my love, the true dedication of my whole life, might make youhappy; that a smaller portion of worldly wealth might satisfy you, if itwere offered you by a man who know deeply your worth, and who desirednothing better than to be ennobled by your hand. Oh, if this belovedhand would guide me through life, how bright, how peaceful would notlife be! I should fear neither adversity nor temptation! and how shouldI not endeavour to be grateful to Providence for his goodness to me! Ah, Louise! it is thus that I have thought, and fancied, and dreamed! Oh, tell me, was it only a dream, or may not the dream become a reality?"

Louise did not withdraw the hand which he had taken, but looked upon thespeaker with infinite kindness. 

"One word, " besought Jacobi, "only one word! Might I say _my_ Louise?Louise--mine?"

"Speak with my parents, " said Louise, deeply blushing, and turning asideher head. 

"My Louise!" exclaimed Jacobi, and, intoxicated with tenderness and joy, pressed her to his heart. 

"Think of my parents, " said Louise, gently pushing him back; "withouttheir consent I will make no promise. Their answer shall decide me. "

"We will hasten together, my Louise, " said he, "and desire theirblessing. "

"Go alone, dear Jacobi, " said Louise. "I do not feel myself calm enough, nor strong enough. I will wait your return here. "

 * * * * *

With this fifth scene we conjecture that the little drama has arrived atthe desired conclusion, and therefore we add no further scene to thatwhich naturally follows. 

As the Candidate hastened with lover's speed to Louise's parents hestruck hard against somebody in the doorway, who was coming out. The twoopponents stepped back each a few paces, and the Candidate and theLanded-proprietor stared in astonishment on each other. 

"Pardon me, " said the Candidate, and was advancing; but theLanded-proprietor held him back, whilst he inquired with greatearnestness, and with a self-satisfied smile, "Hear you, my friend: canyou tell me whether Cousin Louise is in the garden? I came this momentfrom her parents, and would now speak with her. Can you tell me whereshe is?"

"I--I don't know!" said Jacobi, releasing himself, and hastening with asecret anxiety of mind up to her parents. 

In the mean time the Landed-proprietor had caught a glimpse of "CousinLouise's" person in the garden, and hastened up to her. 

It was, in fact, no surprise to Louise, when, after all the preliminaryquestions, "Cousin, do you like fish? do you like birds?" there came atlast the principal question, "Cousin, do you like me?"

To this question, it is true, she gave a somewhat less blunt, butnevertheless a decided negative reply, although it was gilded over with"esteem and friendship. "

The Candidate, on his side, in the fulness and warmth of his heart, laidopen to Louise's parents his love, his wishes, and his hopes. It is truethat Jacobi was now without any office, as well as without any property;but he had many expectations, and amid these, like a sun and a support, his Excellency O----. The Judge was himself no friend to such supports, and Elise did not approve of long engagements: but then both of themloved Jacobi; both of them wished, above all things, the true happinessand well-being of their daughter; and so it happened that, after muchcounsel, and after Louise had been questioned by her parents, and theyfound that she had sincerely the same wishes as Jacobi, and that shebelieved she should be happy with him, and after Jacobi had combatedwith great fervency and effect every postponement of thebetrothal--that, after all this had been brought to a fortunate issue, he received a formal yes, and he and Louise, on the afternoon of thesame day, whose morning sun had seen their explanation, were betrothed. 

Jacobi was beyond description happy; Louise tranquil but gentle. Henrikdeclared that her Majesty appeared too merciful. Perhaps all thisproceeded from her thoughts being already occupied with the increasingand arranging of Jacobi's wardrobe. She began already to think aboutputting in hand a fine piece of linen-weaving. She actually hadconsented to the quick betrothal, principally, as she herself confessedto Eva, "in order to have him better under her hands. "

Good reader--and if thou art a Candidate, good Candidate--pardon "oureldest" if she gave her consent somewhat in mercy. We can assure thee, that our Jacobi was no worse off on that account; so he himself seemedto think, and his joy and cordiality seemed to have great influence inbanishing "the cathedral" out of Louise's demeanour. 

This view of the connexion, and the hearty joy which Louise's brotherand sisters expressed over this betrothal, and which proved how belovedJacobi was by them all, smoothed the wrinkles from the brow of theJudge, and let Elise's heart feel the sweetest satisfaction. Henrik, especially, declared loudly his delight in having his beloved friend andinstructor for a brother-in-law--an actual brother. 

"And now listen, brother-in-law, " said he, fixing his large eyes onLouise; "assume your rights as master of the house properly, brotherdear; and don't let the slippers be master of the house. If you marry aqueen, you must be king, you understand that very well, and must takecare of your majesty; and if she look like a cathedral, why then do youlook like the last judgment, and thunder accordingly! You laugh; butyou must not receive my advice so lightly, but lay it seriously toheart, and----but, dear friend, shall we not have a little bowl thisevening? shall we not, mamma dear? Yes, certainly we will! I shall havethe honour of mixing it myself. Shall we not drink the health of yourmajesties? I shall mix a bowl--sugar and oranges!--a bowl! a bowl!"

With this exclamation Henrik rushed with outstretched arms to the door, which at that moment opened, and he embraced the worthy Mrs. Gunilla. 

"He! thou--good heaven! Best-beloved!" exclaimed she, "he, he, he, he!what is up here? He never thought, did he, that he should take the oldwoman in his arms! he, he, he, he!"

Henrik excused himself in the most reverential and cordial manner, explained the cause of his ecstasy, and introduced to her thenewly-betrothed. Mrs. Gunilla at first was astonished, and then affectedto tears. She embraced Elise, and then Louise, and Jacobi also. "Godbless you!" said she, with all her beautiful quiet cordiality, and then, somewhat pale, seated herself silently on the sofa, and seemed to bethinking sorrowfully how often anxious, dispiriting days succeed thecheerful morning of a betrothal. Whether it was from these thoughts, orthat Mrs. Gunilla really felt herself unwell, we know not, but shebecame paler and paler. Gabriele went out to fetch her a glass of water, and as she opened the door ran against the Assessor, who was just thenentering. 

With a little cry of surprise she recovered from this unexpected shock. He looked at her with an astonished countenance, and the next moment wassurrounded by the other young people. 

"Now, see, see! what is all this?" exclaimed he; "why do you overwhelmme thus? Cannot one move any longer in peace? I am not going to dance, Monsieur Henricus! Do not split my ears, Miss Petrea! What? betrothed!What? Who? Our eldest? Body and bones! let me sit down and take a pinchof snuff. Our eldest betrothed! that is dreadful! Usch!--usch! that isquite frightful! uh, uh, uh, uh! that is actually horrible! Hu, u, u, hu!"

The Assessor took snuff, and blew his nose for a good while, duringwhich the family, who knew his way so well, laughed heartily, with theexception of Louise, who reddened, and was almost angry at hisexclamations, especially at that of horrible. 

"Nay, " said he, rising up and restoring the snuff-box again to hispocket, "one must be contented with what cannot be helped. What iswritten is written. And, as the Scripture says, blessed are they whoincrease and multiply the incorrigible human race, so, in heaven's name, good luck to you! Good luck and blessing, dear human beings!" And thussaying, he heartily shook the hands of Jacobi and Louise, who returnedhis hand-pressure with kindness, although not quite satisfied with theform of his good wishes. 

"Never in all my life, " said Henrik, "did I hear a less cheerfulcongratulation. Mrs. Gunilla and good Uncle Munter to-day might be inmelancholy humour: but now they are sitting down by each other, and wemay hope that after they have had a comfortable quarrel together, theywill cheer up a little. "

But no; no quarrel ensued this evening between the two. The Assessor hadtidings to announce to her which appeared difficult for him tocommunicate, and which filled her eyes with tears--Pyrrhus was dead!

"He was yesterday quite well, " said the Assessor, "and licked my hand asI bade him good night. To-day he took his morning coffee with a goodappetite, and then lay down on his cushion to sleep. As I returned home, well pleased to think of playing with my little comrade, he lay dead onhis cushion!"

Mrs. Gunilla and he talked for a long time about the little favourite, and appeared in consequence to become very good friends. 

Jeremias Munter was this evening in a more censorious humour thancommon. His eyes rested with a sad expression on the newly betrothed. 

"Yes, " said he, as if speaking to himself, "if one had only confidencein oneself; if one was only clear as to one's own motives--then onemight have some ground to hope that one could make another happy, andcould be happy with them. "

"One must know oneself thus well, so far, " said Louise, not without adegree of confidence, "that one can be certain of doing so, before onewould voluntarily unite one's fate with that of another. "

"_Thus well!_" returned he, warmly. "Yes, prosit! Who knows thus well?You do not, dear sister, that I can assure you. Ah!" continued he, withbitter melancholy, "one may be horribly deceived in oneself, and byoneself, in this life. There is no one in this world who, if he rightlyunderstand himself, has not to deplore some infidelity to hisfriend--his love--his better self! The self-love, the miserable egotismof human nature, where is there a corner that it does not slide into?The wretched little _I_, how it thrusts itself forward! how thoughts ofself, designs for self, blot actions which otherwise might be calledgood!"

"Do you then acknowledge no virtue? Is there, then, no magnanimity, noexcellence, which you can admire?" asked some one. "Does not historyshow us----"

"History!" interrupted he, "don't speak of history--don't bring itforward! No, if I am to believe in virtue, it is such as history cannotmeddle with or understand; it is only in that which plays no great partin the world, which never, never could have been applauded by it, andwhich is not acted publicly. Of this kind it is possible that somethingentirely beautiful, something perfectly pure and holy, might be found. Iwill believe in it, although I do not discover it in myself. I haveexamined my own soul, and can find nothing pure in it; but that it _may_be found in others, I believe. My heart swells with the thought thatthere may exist perfectly pure and unselfish virtue. Good heaven, howbeautiful it is! And wherever such a soul may be found in the world, beit in palace or in hut, in gold or in rags, in man or in woman, which, shunning the praise of the world, fearing the flattery of its own heart, fulfils unobserved and with honest zeal its duties, however difficultthey may be, and which labours and prays in secrecy and stillness--sucha being I admire and love, and set high above all the Cæsars and Cicerosof the world!"

During this speech the Judge, who had silently risen from his seat, approached his wife, laid his hand gently on her shoulder, and lookedround upon his children with glistening eyes. 

"Our time, " continued the Assessor, with what was an extraordinaryenthusiasm for him, "understands but very little this greatness. Itpraises itself loudly, and on that account it is the less worthy ofpraise. Everybody will be remarkable, or at least will appear so. Everybody steps forward and shouts I! I! Women even do not any longerunderstand the nobility of their incognito; they also come forth intonotoriety, and shout out their _I!_ Scarcely anybody will say, from thefeeling of their own hearts, _Thou!_--and yet it is this same _Thou_which occasions man to forget that selfish _I_, and in which lies hispurest part; his best happiness! To be sure it may seem grand, it may bequite ecstatic, even if it be only for a moment, to fill the world withone's name; but as, in long-past times, millions and millions of menunited themselves to build a temple to the Supreme, and then themselvessank silently, namelessly, to the dust, having only inscribed His nameand His glory; certainly that was greater, that was far worthier!"

"You talk like King Solomon himself, Uncle Munter!" exclaimed Petrea, quite enraptured. "Ah, you must be an author: you must write a bookof----"

"Write!" interrupted he, "on what account should I write? Only toincrease the miserable vanity of men? Write!--Bah!"

"Every age has its wise men to build up temples, " said Henrik, with abeautiful expression of countenance. 

"No!" continued the Assessor, with evident abhorrence, "I will notwrite! but I will live! I have dreamed sometimes that I could live----"

He ceased; a singular emotion was expressed in his countenance; hearose, and took up a book, into which he looked without reading, andsoon after stepped quietly out of the house. 

The entertainment in the family this evening was, spite of all that hadgone before, very lively; and the result, which was expressed in jestingearnestness, was, that every one, in the spirit which the Assessor hadpraised, should secretly labour at the temple-building, every one withhis own work-tool, and according to his own strength. 

The Judge walked up and down in the room, and took only occasional partin the entertainment, although he listened to all, and smiledapplaudingly. It seemed as if the Assessor's words had excited amelancholy feeling in him, and he spoke warmly in praise of his friend. 

"There does not exist a purer human soul than his, " said he, "and hehas thereby operated very beneficially on me. Many men desire as muchgood, and do it also; but few have to the same extent as he the puremind, the perfectly noble motive. "

"Ah! if one could only make him happier, only make him more satisfiedwith life!" said Eva. 

"Will you undertake the commission?" whispered Petrea, waggishly. 

Rather too audible a kiss suddenly turned all eyes on the Candidate andLouise; the latter of whom was punishing her lover for his daring by ahighly ungracious and indignant glance, which Henrik declared quitepulverised him. As they, however, all separated for the night, theCandidate besought and was permitted, in mercy, a little kiss, as atoken of reconciliation and forgiveness of his offence regarding thegreat one. 

"My dear girl, " said the mother to Louise as the two met, impelled by amutual desire to converse together that same night in her boudoir, "howcame Jacobi's wooing about so suddenly? I could not have believed thatit would have been so quickly decided. I am perfectly astonished evenyet that you should be betrothed. "

"So am I, " replied Louise; "I can hardly conceive how it has happened. We met one another this morning in the garden; Jacobi was gloomy, andout of spirits, and had made up his mind to leave us because he fanciedI was about to be betrothed to Cousin Thure. I then besought him toforgive my late unkindness, and gave him some little idea of myfriendliness towards him; whereupon he spoke to me of his own feelingsand wishes so beautifully, so warmly, and then--then I hardly know howit was myself, he called me _his_ Louise, and I--told him to go andspeak with my parents. "

"And in the mean time, " said the mother, "your parents sent anotherwooer to their daughter, in order for him to receive from her a yes orno. Poor Cousin Thure! He seemed to have such certain hope. But I trusthe may soon console himself! But do you know, Louise, of late I havefancied that Oestanvik and all its splendour might be a littlecaptivating to you! And now do you really feel that you have had no lossin rejecting so rich a worldly settlement?"

"Loss!" repeated Louise, "no, not now, certainly; and yet I should saywrong if I denied that it has had temptations for me; and for thatreason I never would go to Oestanvik, because I knew how improper itwould be if I allowed it to influence me, whilst I never could enduresuch a person as Cousin Thure; and, besides that, I liked Jacobi somuch, and had done so for many years! Once, however, the temptation wasvery powerful, and that was on our return from Axelholm. As I rode alongin Cousin Thure's easy landau, it seemed to me that it must be veryagreeable to travel through life so comfortably and pleasantly. But atthat time I was very unhappy in myself; life had lost its best worth forme; my faith in all that I loved most was poisoned! Ah! there arose inme then such a fearful doubt in all that was good in the world, and Ibelieved for one moment that it would be best to sleep out life, andtherefore the easy rocking of the landau seemed so excellent. But now, now is this heavy dream vanished! now life is again bright, and Iclearly see my own way through, it. Now I trouble myself no more about alandau than I do about a wheelbarrow; nay, I would much rather now thatmy whole life should be a working day, for which I could thank God! Itis a delight to work for those whom one highly esteems and loves; and Idesire nothing higher than to be able to live and work for my ownfamily, and for him who is to-day become my promised husband beforeGod!"

"God will bless you, my good, pure-hearted girl!" said the mother, embracing her, and sweet affectionate tears were shed in the stillevening. 

CHAPTER XI. 

YET MORE WOOING. 

Early on the following morning Eva received a nosegay of beautifulmoss-roses, among which was a letter to herself; she tore it open, andred the following words:

 "I have dreamed that I could live; and truly a life more beautiful and more perfect than any romance makes one dream of. Little Miss Eva, whom I have so often carried in my arms--good young girl, whom I would so willingly sustain on my breast through, life, thou must hear what I have dreamed, what I sometimes still dream. 

 "I dreamed that I was a rough, unsightly rock, repulsive and unfruitful. But a heart beat in the rock--a chained heart. It beat against the walls of its prison till it bled, because it longed to be abroad in the sunshine, but it could not break its bonds. I could not free myself from myself. The rock wept because it was so hard, because it was a prison for its own life. There came a maiden, a light gentle angel, wandering through the wood, and laid her warm lily-white hand on the rock, and pressed her pure lips upon it, breathing a magical word of freedom. The rocky wall opened itself, and the heart, the poor captive heart, saw the light! The young girl went into the chamber of the heart, and called it her home; and suddenly beautiful roses, which diffused odours around, sprang forth from that happy heart towards its liberator, whilst the chambers of the heart vaulted itself high above her into a temple for her, clothing its walls with fresh foliage and with precious stones, upon which the sunbeams played. 

 "I awoke from a sense of happiness that was too great to be borne on earth; I awoke, and ah! the roses were vanished, the lovely girl was vanished, and I was once again the hard, unsightly, and joyless rock. But do you see, young maiden, the idea will not leave me, that those roses which I saw in my dream are hidden in me; that they may yet bloom, yet rejoice and make happy. The idea will remain with me that this reserved, melancholy heart might yet expand itself by an affectionate touch; that there are precious stones within it, which would beam brightly for those who called them forth into light. 

 "Good young maiden, will you not venture on the attempt? Will you not lay your warm hand on the rock? Will you not breathe softly upon it? Oh, certainly, certainly under your touch it would soften--it would bring forth roses for you--it would exalt itself into a temple for you, a temple full of hymns of thanksgiving, full of love!

 "I know that I am old, old before my time; that I am ugly and disagreeable, unpleasant, and perhaps ridiculous; but I do not think that nature intended me to be so. I have gone through life in such infinite solitude; neither father nor mother, brother nor sister, have followed my path; no sunshine fell upon my childhood or my youth; I have wandered solitarily through life, combating with difficulties. Once I bound myself to a friend--he deserted me, and thence grew the rock about my heart; thence became my demeanour severe, unattractive, and rough. Is it to remain so always? Will my life never bloom upon earth? Will no breath of heaven call forth my roses?

 "Do you fear my melancholy temperament? Oh, you have not seen how a glance, a word of yours chases every cloud from my brow; not because you are beautiful, but because you are good and pure. Will you teach me to be good? I will learn willingly from you! From you I would learn to love mankind, and to find more good in the world than I have hitherto done. I will live for you, if not for the world. By my wish the world should know nothing of me till the cross upon my grave told 'here rests----'

 "Oh, it is beautiful to live nameless under the poisoned glance of the world; poisoned, whether it praise or blame; beautiful, not to be polluted by its observation, but more beautiful to be intimately known to one--to possess one gentle and honest friend, and that one a wife! Beautiful to be able to look into her pure soul as in a mirror, and to be aware there of every blot on one's own soul, and to be able thus to purify it against the day of the great trial. 

 "But I speak only of myself and my own happiness. Ah, the egotist--the cursed egotist! Can I make you happy also, Eva? Is it not audacity in me to desire--ah, Eva, I love you inexpressibly!

 "I leave the egotist in your hand: do with him what you will, he will still remain

 "Yours. "

This letter made Eva very anxious and uneasy. She would so willinglyhave said yes, and made so good a man happy, but then so many voiceswithin her said no!

She spoke with her parents, with her brother and sisters. "He is sogood, so excellent!" said she. "Ah, if I could but properly love him!But I cannot--and then he is so old; and I have no desire to marry; I amso happy in my own home. "

"And do not leave it!" was the unanimous chorus of all the family. Thefather, indeed, was actually desperate with all this courtship; and themother thought it quite absurd that her blooming Eva and Jeremias Muntershould go together. No one voice spoke for the Assessor but the littlePetrea's, and a silent sigh in Eva's own bosom. The result of all thisconsideration was, that Eva wrote with tearful eyes the following answerto her lover:

 "My best, my truly good Friend!

 "Ah! do not be angry with me that I cannot become for you that which you wish. I shall certainly not marry. I am too happy in my own home for that. Ah! this to be sure is egotistical, but I cannot do otherwise. Forgive me! I am so very much, so heartily attached to you; and I should never be happy again if you love not hitherto as formerly

 "Your little "Eva. "

In the evening Eva received a beautiful and costly work-box, with thefollowing lines:

 "Yes, yes, I can very well believe that the rough rock would be appalling. You will not venture to lay your delicate white hand upon it, little Miss Eva; will not trouble yourself to breathe warmth upon my poor roses! Let them then remain in their grave!

 "I shall now make a journey, nor see you again for a year and a day. But, good heavens! as you have given me a basket, [13] you shall receive in return a little box. I bought it for my--bride, Eva! Yet now, after all, Eva shall have it; shall keep it for my sake. She may return it when I cease to be

 "Her true and devoted Friend. "

"Do you think she is sorry for what she has done?" asked the Judgeanxiously from his wife, as he saw Eva's hot tears falling on thework-box;--"but it cannot be helped. She marry! and that too withMunter! She is indeed nothing but a child! But that is just the way;when one has educated one's daughters, and taught them something of goodmanners, just when one has begun to have real pleasure in them, that onemust lose them--must let them go to China if the lover chance to be aChinese! It is intolerable! It is abominable! I would not wish my worstenemy the pain of having grown-up daughters. Is not Schwartz alreadybeginning to draw a circle about Sara? Good gracious! if we should yethave the plague of another lover!"

FOOTNOTES:

[13] To say that "a gentleman has received a basket, " is the same assaying he is a rejected lover. --M. H. 

CHAPTER XII. 

MORE COURTSHIP STILL. 

Judge Frank had, unknown to himself, spoken a striking word. It was truethat Schwartz had drawn ever narrower and darker circles around Sara, and at the very time when she would appear free from his influence hertemper became more uncertain and suspicious. The mother, uneasy aboutthis connexion, no longer allowed her to be alone with him during themusic lesson, and this watchfulness excited Sara's pride, as well as thegrave yet gentle remonstrances which were made on account of herbehaviour were received with much impatience and disregard. The Judgewas the only person before whom Sara did not exhibit the dark side ofher character. His glance, his presence, seemed to exercise a certainpower over her; besides which, she was, perhaps, more beloved by himthan by all the other members of the family, with the exception ofPetrea. 

One evening, Sara sate silent by one of the windows in the library, supporting her beautiful head on her hand. Petrea sate at her feet on alow stool; she also was silent, but every now and then looked up to Sarawith a tender troubled expression, whilst Sara sometimes looked downtowards her thoughtfully, and almost gloomily. 

"Petrea, " said she, quickly, "what would you say if I should leave yousuddenly to go into the wide world, and should never return?"

"What should I say?" answered Petrea, with a violent gush of tears: "ah, I should say nothing at all, but should lie down and die of grief!"

"Do you really love me then so, Petrea?" asked she. 

"Do I love you!" returned Petrea; "ah, Sara, if you go away, take mewith you as maid, as servant--I will do everything for you!"

"Good Petrea!" whispered Sara, laying her arm round her neck, andkissing her weeping eyes, "continue to love Sara, but do not followher!"

"It seems terribly sultry to me this evening!" said Henrik, wearily: "wecannot manage any family assembling to-night; not a bit of music; not abit of entertainment. The air seems as if an earthquake were at hand. Ifancy that Africa sends us something of a tempest. Petrea is weepinglike the cataract of Trollhätten; and there go the people intwos-and-twos and weep, and set themselves in corners and whisper andmutter, and kiss one another, from my God-fearing parents down to mysilly little sisters! The King and Queen, they go and seat themselvesjust has it happens, on living or dead things; they had nearly seatedthemselves on me as I sate unoffensively on the sofa; but I made a turnabout _tout d'un coup_. --Betrothed! horribly wearisome folks! Are theynot, Gabriele? They cannot see, they cannot hear; they could not speak, I fancy, but with one another!"

A light was burning in Sara's chamber far into the night. She was busiedfor a long time with her journal; she wrote with a flying but unsteadyhand. 

"So, to-morrow; to-morrow all will be said, and I----shall be bound. 

"I know that is but of little importance, and yet I have such a horrorof it! Oh, the power of custom and of form. 

"I know very well whom I could love; there is a purity in his glance, apowerful purity which penetrates me. But how would he look on me if hesaw----

"I must go! I have no choice left! S. Has me in his net--the money whichI have borrowed from him binds me so fast!--for I cannot bear that theyshould know it, and despise me. I know that they would impoverishthemselves in order to release me, but I will not so humiliate myself. 

"And why do I speak of release? I go hence to a life of freedom andhonour. I bow myself under the yoke but for a moment, only in order toexalt myself the more proudly. Now there is no more time to tremble andto waver--away with these tears! And thou, Volney, proud, strongthinker, stand by me! Teach me, when all others turn away, how I mayrely on my own strength!"

Sara now exchanged the pen for the book, and the hour of midnight struckbefore she closed it, and arose tranquil and cold in order to seek thequiet of sleep. 

 * * * * *

The earthquake of which Henrik had spoken came the next day, the signalof which was a letter from Schwartz to the Judge, in which he solicitedthe hand of Sara. His only wealth was his profession; but with thisalone he was convinced that his wife would want nothing: he was justabout to undertake a journey through Europe, and wished to beaccompanied by Sara, of whose consent and acquiescence he was quitesure. 

A certain degree of self-appreciation in a man was not at any timedispleasing to Judge Frank, but this letter breathed a superciliousassurance, a professional arrogance, which were extremely repugnant tohim. Besides this, he was wounded by the tone of pretension in whichSchwartz spoke of one who was as dear to him as his own daughter; andthe thought of her being united to a man of Schwartz's character wasintolerable to him. He was almost persuaded that Sara did not love him, and burned with impatience to repel his pretensions, and to remove himat the same time from his house. 

Elise agreed perfectly in the opinion of her husband, but was lessconfident than he regarding Sara's state of feeling with respect to theaffair. She was summoned to their presence. The Judge handed to herSchwartz's letter, and awaited impatiently her remarks upon it. Hercolour paled before the grave and searching glance which was rivetedupon her, but she declared herself quite willing to accept Schwartz'sproposal. 

Astonishment and vexation painted themselves on the countenance of heradopted father. 

"Ah, Sara, " said the mother, after a short silence, "have you wellconsidered this? Do you think that Schwartz is a man who can make a wifehappy?"

"He can make me happy, " returned Sara; "happy according to my own mind. "

"You can never, never, " said the mother, "enjoy domestic happiness withhim!"

"He loves me, " returned Sara, "and he can give me a happiness which Inever enjoyed here. I lost early both father and mother, and in the homeinto which I was received out of charity, all became colder and coldertowards me!"

"Ah, do not think so, Sara!" said the mother. "But even if this werethe case, may not some little of it be your own fault? Do you really doanything to make yourself beloved? Do you strive against that whichmakes you less amiable?"

"I can renounce such love, " said Sara, "as will not love me with myfaults. Nature gave me strong feelings and inclinations, and I cannotbring them into subjection. "

"You will not, Sara, " was the reply. 

"I cannot! and it may be that I will not, " said she, "submit myself tothe subjugation and taming which has been allotted as the share of thewoman. Why should I? I feel strength in myself to break up a new pathfor myself. I will lead a fresh and an independent life! I will live abright artiste-life, free from the trammels and the Lilliputianconsiderations of domestic life. I will be free! I will not, as now, bewatched and suspected, and be under a state of espionage! I will be freefrom the displeasure and blame which now dog my footsteps! Thistreatment it is, mother, which has determined my resolution. "

"If, " answered the mother, in a tremulous voice, and deeply affected bySara's words and tone, "I have erred towards you--and I may have doneso--I know well that it has not been from temper, or out of want oftenderness towards you. I have spoken to and warned you from the bestconviction; I have sincerely endeavoured and desired that which is bestfor you, and this you will some time or other come to see even betterthan now. [14] You will perhaps come to see that it would have been goodfor you if you had lent a more willing ear to my maternal counsellings;will perhaps come to deplore that you rewarded the love I cherished foryou with reproaches and bitterness!"

"Then let me go!" said Sara, with gentler voice; "we do not accord welltogether. I embitter your life, and you make--perhaps you cannot makemine happy. Let me go with him who will love me with all my faults, whocan and will open a freer scope to my powers and talents than I havehitherto had. "

"Ah, Sara, " returned Elise, "will you obtain in this freer field abetter happiness than can be afforded you by a domestic circle, by thetenderness of true friends, and a happy domestic life?"

"Are you then so happy, my mother?" interrupted Sara with an ironicalsmile, and a searching glance; "are you then so happy in this circle, and this domestic life, which you praise so highly, that you thus repeatwhat has been said on the subject from the beginning of the world. Thoseperpetual cares in which you have passed your days, those trifling caresand thoughts for every-day necessities, which are so opposite to yourown nature, are they then so pleasant, so captivating? Have you notrenounced many of your beautiful gifts--your pleasure in literature andmusic--nay, in short, what is the most lovely part of life, in order tobury yourself in concealment and oblivion, and there, like the silkworm, to spin your own sepulchre of the threads which another will wind off?You bow your own will continually before that of another; your innocentpleasures you sacrifice daily either to him or to others: are you sovery happy amid all these renunciations?"

The Judge rose up passionately; went several times up and down the room, and placed himself at last directly opposite to Sara, leaning his backto the stove, and listening attentively for the answer of his wife. 

"Yes, Sara, I am happy!" answered she, with an energy very unusual inher; "yes, I am happy! Whenever I make any sacrifice, I receive a richreturn. And if there be moments when I feel painfully any renunciationwhich I have made, there are others, and far more of them, in which Icongratulate myself on all that I have won. I am become improved throughthe husband whom God has given to me; through my children, through myduties, through the desires and the wants which I have overcome at hisside--yes, Sara, above all things, through him, his affection, hisexcellence, am I improved, and feel myself happier every day. Love, Sara, love changes sacrifice into pleasure, and makes renunciationsweet! I thank God for my lot, and only wish that I were worthier ofit!"

"It may be!" said Sara, proudly; "every one has his own sphere. But thetame happiness of the dove suits not the eagle!"

"Sara!" exclaimed the Judge, in a tone of severe displeasure. 

The mother, unable longer to repress the outbreak of excited feeling, left the room with her handkerchief to her eyes. 

"For shame, Sara, " said the Judge with severe gravity, and standingbefore her with a reproving glance, "for shame! this arrogance goes toofar!"

She trembled now before his eye as she had done once before; aremembrance from the days of her childhood awoke within her; her eyelidssunk, and a burning crimson covered her face. 

"You have forgotten yourself, " continued he, calmly, but severely, "andin your childish haughtiness have only shown how far you are below thatworth and excellence which you cannot understand, and which, in yourpresent state of mind, you never can emulate. Your own calm judgmentwill make the sharpest reproaches on this last scene, and will, nay, must lead you to throw yourself at the feet of your mother. All, however, that I now ask from you is, that you think over your intentionsrationally. How is it possible, Sara, that you overlook your owninconsistency? You argue zealously against domestic life--against theduties of marriage, and yet, at the same time, wilfully determine to tiethose bonds with a man who will make them actual fetters for you. "

"He will not fetter me, " returned she; "he has promised it--he has swornit! I shall not subject myself to him as a wife, but I shall stand athis side as an equal, as an artiste, and step with him into a worldbeautiful and rich in honours, which he will open to me. "

"Ah, mere talk!" exclaimed the Judge. "Folly, folly! How can you be sofoolish, and believe in such false show? The state gives your husband apower over you which he will not fail to abuse--that I can promise youfrom what I know of his character, and from what I now discover ofyours. No woman can withdraw from a connexion of this kind unpunished, more especially under the circumstances in which you are placed. Sara, you do not love the man to whom you are about to unite yourself, and itis impossible that you can love him. No true esteem, no pure regardbinds you to him. "

"He loves me, " answered Sara, with trembling lips; "I admire his powerand artistical genius;--he will conduct me to independence and honour!It is no fault of mine that the lot of woman is so contracted andmiserable--that she must bind herself in order to become free!"

"Only as a means?" asked he; "the holiest tie on earth only as a means, and for what? For a pitiable and ephemeral chase after happiness, whichyou call honour and freedom. Poor, deceived Sara! Are you so misled, soturned aside from the right? Is it possible that the miserable book of awriter, as full of pretension as weak and superficial, has been ablethus to misguide you?" and with these words he took Volney's Ruins outof his pocket, and threw it upon the table. 

Sara started and reddened. "Ah, " said she, "this is only anotherinstance of espionage over me. "

"Not so, " replied the Judge, calmly. "I was this day in your room; youhad left the book lying on the table, and I took it, in order that Imight speak with you about it, and prevent Petrea's young steps fromtreading this path of error without a guide. "

"People may think what they please, " said Sara, "of the influence of thebook, but I conceive that author deserves least of all the epithetweak. "

"When you have followed his counsel, " returned he, "and resemble thewreck which the waves have thrown up here, then you may judge of thestrength and skill of the steersman! My child, do not follow him. A moremature, a more logical power of mind, will teach you how little he knowsof the ocean of life, of its breakers and its depths--how little heunderstands the true compass. "

"Ah!" said Sara, "these storms, these dangers, nay, even shipwreckitself, appear to me preferable to the still, windless water which theso-much-be-praised haven of domestic life represents. You speak, myfather, of chimeras; but tell me, is not the so-lauded happiness ofdomestic life more a chimera than any other? When the saloon is set inorder, one does not see the broom and the dusting-brush that have beenat work in it, and the million grains of dust which have filled the air;one forgets that they have ever been there. So it is with domestic andfamily life; one persists wilfully in only seeing its beautiful moments, and in passing over, in not noticing at all, what are less beautiful, orindeed are 'repulsive. '"

"All depends upon which are the predominant, " replied he, half smilingat Sara's simile. "Thus, then, if it be more frequently disorderly thanorderly, if the air be more frequently filled with dust than it is pureand fresh, then the devil may dwell there, but not I! I know very wellthat there are homes enough on earth where there are dust-filled rooms, but that must be the fault of the inhabitants. On them alone depends thecondition of the house; from those which may not unjustly be calledante-rooms of hell, to those again which, spite of their earthlyimperfections, spite of many a visitation of duster and dusting-brush, yet may deserve the names of courts of heaven. And where, Sara, where inthis world will you find an existence free from earthly dust? And isthat of which you complain so bitterly anything else than the earthlyhusk which encloses every mortal existence of man as well as ofwoman?--it is the soil in which the plant must grow; it is the chrysalisin which the larva becomes ripe for its change of life! Can you actuallybe blind to that higher and nobler life which never developes itselfmore beautifully than in a peaceful home? Can you deny that it is in thesphere of family and friendship where man lives most perfectly and best, as citizen of an earthly and of a heavenly kingdom? Can you deny howgreat and noble is the efficacy of woman in private life, be she marriedor single, if she only endeavour----"

"Ah, " said Sara, interrupting him, "the sphere of private life is toonarrow for me. I require a larger one, in order to breathe freely andfreshly. "

"In pure affection, " replied the Judge, "in friendship, and in theexercise of kindness, there is large and fresh breathing space; the airof eternity plays through it. In intellectual development--and the veryhighest may be arrived at in private life--the whole world opens itselfto the eye of man, and infinite treasures are offered to his soul, more, far more, than he can ever appropriate to himself!"

"But the artist, " argued Sara--"the artist cannot form himself athome--he must try himself on the great theatre of the world. Is his bentonly a chimera, my father? And are those distinguished persons whopresent the highest pleasures to the world through their talents; towhom the many look up with admiration and homage; around whom the great, and the beautiful, and the agreeable collect themselves, are theyfools?--are they blind hunters after happiness? Ah, what lot can well bemore glorious than theirs! Oh, my father, I am young; I feel a power inmyself which is not a common one--my heart throbs for a freer and morebeautiful life! Desire not that I should constrain my own nature: desirenot that I should compress my beautiful talents into a sphere which hasno charms for me!"

"I do not depreciate, certainly, the profession of the artist, " repliedthe Judge, "nor the value of his agency: in its best meaning, his is asnoble as any; but is it this pure bent, this noble view of it, whichimpels you, which animates you? Sara, examine your own heart; it isvanity and selfish ambition which impel you. It is the arrogance of youreighteen years, and some degree of talent, which make you overlook allthat is good in your present lot, which make you disdain to matureyourself nobly and independently in the domestic circle. It is a deepmistake, which will now lead you to an act blamable in the eyes of Godand man, and which blinds you to the dark side of the life which youcovet. Nevertheless, there is none darker, none in which the changes offortune are more dependent on miserable accidents. An accident maydeprive you of your beauty, or your voice, and with these you lose thefavour of the world in which you have placed your happiness. Besidesthis, you will not always continue at eighteen, Sara: by the time youare thirty all your glory will be past, and then--then what will youhave collected for the remaining half of life? You will have rioted fora short time in order then to starve; since, so surely as I stand here, with this haughty and vain disposition, and with the husband whom youwill have chosen, you will come to want; and, too late, you will lookback in your misery, full of remorse, to the virtue and to the true lifewhich you have renounced. "

Sara was silent; she was shaken by the words and by the countenance ofher adopted father. 

"And how perfectly different it might be!" continued he, with warmth;"how beautiful, how full of blessing might not your life and yourtalents be! Sara! I have loved you, and love you still, like my owndaughter--will you not listen to me as to a father? Answer me--have youhad to give up anything in this house, which, with any show of reason, you might demand? and have we spared any possible care for youreducation or your accomplishments?"

"No, " replied Sara, sighing; "all have been kind, very kind to me. "

"Well, then, " exclaimed the Judge, with increasing warmth andcordiality, "depend upon your mother and me, that you will have no causeof complaint. I am not without property and connexions. I will spare nomeans of cultivating your talents, and then if your turn for art is atrue one, when it has been cultivated to its utmost it shall not beconcealed from a world which can enjoy and reward it. But remain underour protection, and do not cast yourself, inexperienced as you are, on aworld which will only lead you more astray. Do not, in order to win anideal liberty, give your hand to a man inferior to you inaccomplishments; to a man whom you do not love, and whom, morallyspeaking, you cannot esteem. Descend into your own heart, and see itserror while there is yet time to retrieve it, before you are crushed byyour own folly. Do not fly from affectionate, careful friends--do notfly from the paternal roof in blind impatience of disagreeables, toremove which depends perhaps only on yourself! Sara, my child! I havenot taken you under my roof in order to let you become the victim ofruin and misfortune! Pause, Sara, and reflect, I pray you, I conjureyou! make not yourself wretched! When I took you from the death-bed ofyour father, I threw my arms around _you_ to shield you from the windsof autumn--I clasp them once again around you, in order to shield youfrom far more dangerous winds--Sara, my child, fly not from this house!"

Sara trembled; she was violently agitated, and leaned her head withindescribable emotion against her adopted father, who clasped hertenderly to his bosom. 

It is not difficult to say whether they were good or bad angels whotriumphed in Sara, as she, after a moment of violent inward struggle, pushed from her the paternal friend, and said, with averted countenance, "It is in vain; my determination is taken. I shall become the wife ofSchwartz, and go where my fate leads me!"

The Judge started up, stamped on the floor, and pale with anger, exclaimed, with flashing eyes, "Obdurate one! since neither love norprayers have power over you, you must listen to another mode of speech!I have the right of a guardian over you, and I forbid this unholymarriage! I forbid you to leave my house! You hear me, and you shallobey!"

Sara stood up as pale as death, and with an insolent expression rivetedher large eyes upon him, whilst he, too, fixed his upon her with all theforce of his peculiar earnestness and decision. It seemed as if eachwould look the other through--as if each in this contest would measurehis strength against the other. 

Suddenly her arms were flung wildly round his neck, a burning kiss waspressed upon his lips, and the next moment she was out of the room. 

Elise sate in her boudoir. She still wept bitter tears. It was twilight, and her knees were suddenly embraced, and her hands and her dress werecovered with kisses and with tears. When she put forth her hands toraise the one who embraced her, she had vanished. "Sara, Sara! where areyou?" exclaimed she, full of anxiety. 

Petrea came down from her chamber; she met some one, who embraced her, pressed her lips to her forehead, and whispered, "Forget me!"

"Sara, Sara! where are you going?" exclaimed she, terrified, and runningafter her to the house door. 

"Where is Sara?" inquired the Judge, violently, above in the chambers ofhis daughters. "Where is Sara?" inquired he, below in the library. 

"Ah!" exclaimed Petrea, who now rushed in weeping, "she is this momentgone out--out into the street; she almost ran. She forbade me to followher. Ah, she certainly never will come back again!"

"The devil!" said the Judge, hastening from the room, and taking up hishat, went out. Far off in the street he saw a female figure, which, withonly a handkerchief thrown over her head and shoulders, was hasteningonward, and who, spite of the twilight, he recognised to be Sara. Hehastened after her; she looked round, saw him, and fled. Certain nowthat he was not mistaken, he followed, and was almost near enough totake hold of her, when she suddenly turned aside, and rushed into ahouse--it was that of Schwartz. He followed with the quickness oflightning; followed her up the steps, and was just laying his hand onher, when she vanished through a door. The next moment he too opened it, and saw her--in the arms of Schwartz!

The two stood together embracing, and evidently prepared to defy him. Hestood for some moments silent before them, regarding them with anindescribable look of wrath, contempt, and sorrow. He looked upon thepale breathless Sara, and covered his eyes with his hand; the nextmoment, however, he seemed to collect himself, and with all the calm andrespect-commanding dignity of a parent, he grasped her hand, and said, "You now follow me home. On Sunday the banns shall be proclaimed. "

Sara followed. She took his arm, and with a drooping head, and without aword, accompanied him home. 

All there was disquiet and sorrow. But, notwithstanding the generaldiscontent with Sara and her marriage, there was not one of the familywho did not busy themselves earnestly in her outfit. Louise, who blamedher more than all the rest, gave herself most trouble about it. 

Sara behaved as if she never observed how everybody was working for her, and passed her time either over her harp, or solitary in her own room. Any intercourse with the members of the family seemed to have becomepainful to her, whilst Petrea's tenderness and tears were received withindifference--nay, even with sternness. 

FOOTNOTES:

[14] All mothers speak thus--but not all, nay, not many with the sameright as Elise. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

DEPARTURE. 

Sara's joyless marriage was over; and the hour was come in which she wasto leave that home and family which had so affectionately received her, and which now with solicitude and the tenderest care provided for herwants in her new position. 

In the hour of separation, the crust of ice which had hithertosurrounded her being broke, she sank, weeping violently, at the feet ofher foster-parents. 

The Judge was deeply affected. "You have had your own will, Sara, " saidhe, in a firm but mournful voice, "may you be happy! Some few warnings Ihave given you, do not forget them; they are the last! If you should bedeceived in the hopes which now animate you--if you should beunfortunate--unfortunate, or criminal, then remember--then remember, Sara, that here you have father and mother, and sisters, who willreceive you with open arms; then remember that you have here family andhome!"

He ceased: drew her a little aside, took her hand, and pressed abank-note in it. "Take this, " said he, tenderly, "as a little help inthe hour of need. No, you must not refuse it from your foster-father. Take it for his love's sake, you will some time need it!"

It was with difficulty that the Judge had so far preserved his calmness;he now pressed her violently to his breast; kissed her brow and lips, whilst his tears flowed abundantly. The mother and sisters toosurrounded her weeping. At that moment the door opened, and Schwartzentered. 

"The carriage waits, " said he, with a dark glance on the mournful group. Sara tore herself from the arms which would have held her fast, andrushed out of the room. 

A few seconds more, and the travelling carriage rolled away. 

"She is lost!" exclaimed the Judge to his wife with bitter pain. "I feelit in myself that she is lost! Her death would have been less painful tome than this marriage. "

For many days he continued silent and melancholy. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

LITTLE SCENES. 

The past episode had gone through the house like a whirlwind. When itwas over, the heaven cleared itself anew, and they were able to confessthat a more joyful tranquillity had diffused itself over all. There wasno one who did not think of Sara with sympathy, who did not weepsometimes at her violent separation from the family; but there was noone, with the exception of the Judge and Petrea, who did not feel herabsence to be a secret relief; for one unquiet temper, and one full ofpretension, can disturb a whole household, and make the most exquisitenatural gifts of no account. 

The Judge missed a daughter from the beloved circle; missed thatbeautiful, richly-endowed girl, and could not think of her futureprospects without bitter anxiety. Petrea wept the object of her youthfuladmiration and homage, but consoled herself with the romantic plans sheformed for seeing her again, in all of which she gave to herself theprovince of guardian angel, either as the queen of a desert island, oras a warrior bleeding for her, or as a disguised person who unloosedher bonds in the depths of a dungeon in order to put them on herself: inshort, in all possible ways in the world except the possible one. 

Sara wrote soon after her separation from her friends; she spoke of thepast with gratitude, and of the future with hope. The letter exhibited acertain decision and calmness; a certain seriousness, which diffusedthrough the family a satisfactory ease of mind with regard to her futurefate. Elise was ever inclined to hope for the best, and young people arealways optimists: the Judge said nothing which might disturb the peaceof his family, whilst Louise alone shook her head and sighed. 

After the many disturbing circumstances which had lately occurred in thefamily, all seemed now to long after repose, and the ability to enjoy aquieter domestic life. Occupations of all kinds--those simple butcheerful daughters of well-regulated life, went on cheerfully andcomfortably under the eye of Louise. There was no want in the house ofjoyful hours, sunshine of every kind, and entertainment full ofinterest. The newspapers which the Judge took in, and which kept thefamily _au courant_ of the questions of the day, furnished materials formuch development of mind, for much conversation and much thought, especially among the young people. The father had great pleasure inhearing thus their interchange of opinion, although he himself seldommingled in their discussions, with the exception of now and then aguiding word. 

"I fancy all is going on quite right, " said he, joyfully, to his wifeone day. "The children live gaily at home, and are preparing themselvesfor life. Indeed, if they only once open their eyes and ears, they willfind subjects enough on which to use them; and will be astonished at allthat life will present them with. It is well when home furnishesnourishment for mind as well as heart and body. I rejoice too, extremely, over our new house. Every land, every climate, has its ownadvantages as well as its own difficulties, and the economy of life mustbe skilfully adjusted if it is to be maintained with honour andadvantage. Our country, which compels us to live so much in the house, seems thereby to admonish us to a more concentrated, and at the sametime more quiet and domestic life, on which account we need, above allthings, comfortable houses, which are able to advance and advantagesoul as well as body. Thank God! I fancy ours is pretty good for thatpurpose, and in time may yet be better; the children too look happy;Gabriele grows now every day, and Louise has grown over all our heads!"

The young people were very much occupied with plans for the future. Evaand Leonore built all their castles in the air together. A greatintimacy had grown up between these two sisters since they were aloneduring the absence of the others at Axelholm. One might say, that eversince that evening, when they sate together eating grapes and reading anovel, the seed of friendship which had long been sprouting in theirhearts, shot forth thence its young leaves. Their castles in the airwere no common castles of romance; they had for their foundation theprosaic but beautiful thought of gaining for themselves an independentlivelihood in the future--for the parents had early taught theirdaughters to direct their minds to this object--and hence beautifulestablishments were founded, partly for friendship and partly forhumanity: for young girls are always great philanthropists. 

Jacobi also had many schemes for the future of himself and his wife, andLouise many schemes how to realise them. In the mean time there weremany processes about kisses. Louise wished to establish a law that notmore than three a day should be allowed, against which Jacobi protestedboth by word and deed, on which occasions Gabriele always ran awayhastily and indignantly. 

Petrea read English with Louise, arranged little festivities for her andthe family; wept every evening over Sara, and beat her brains everymorning over "the Creation of the World, " whilst the good parentswatched ever observantly over them all. 

No one, however, enjoyed the present circumstances of the family so muchas Henrik. After he had succeeded in inducing his sisters to use morelively exercise and exhilaration, he devoted himself more exclusively tohis favourite studies, history and philosophy. Often he took his bookand wandered with it whole days in the country, but every evening atseven he punctually joined the family circle, and was there the merriestof the merry. 

"We live now right happily, " said he one evening in confidentialdiscourse with his mother; "and I, for my part, never enjoyed life somuch. I feel now that my studies will really mend, and that somethingcan be made of me. And when I have studied for a whole day, and that notfruitlessly either, and then come of an evening to you and my sisters, and see all here so friendly, so bright and cheerful, life seems soagreeable! I feel myself so happy, and almost wish it might alwaysremain as it is now. "

"Ah, yes!" answered the mother, "if we could always keep you with us, myHenrik! But I know that won't do; you must soon leave us again; andthen, when you have finished your studies, you must have your ownhouse. "

"And then, mother, you shall come to me!" This had been years before, and still was Henrik's favourite theme, and the mother listenedwillingly to it. 

Several poems which Henrik wrote about this time seemed to indicate themost decided poetical talent, and gave his mother and sisters thegreatest delight, whilst they excited, at the same time, great attentionamong the friends of the family. The Judge alone looked on gloomily. 

"You will spoil him, " exclaimed he one evening to his wife anddaughters, "if you make him fancy that he is something extraordinary, before he is in anything out of the common way. I confess that hispoetising is very much against my wish. When one is a man, one shouldhave something much more important to do than to sigh, and sing aboutthis and that future life. If he were likely to be a Thorild, [15] or anyother of our greatest poets----but I see no signs of that! and thispoetasterism, this literary idleness, which perpetually either liftsyoung people above the clouds, or places them under the earth, so thatfor pure cloud and dust they are unable to see the good noble gifts ofactual life--I would the devil had it! The direction which Henrik is nowtaking grieves me seriously. I had rejoiced myself so in the thought ofhis being a first-rate miner; in his being instrumental in turning togood account our mines, our woods and streams, those noblest foundationsof Sweden's wealth, and to which it was worth while devoting a goodhead; and now, instead of that, he hangs his on one side; sits with apen in his hand, and rhymes 'face' and 'grace, ' 'heart' and 'smart!' Itis quite contrary to my feelings! I wish Stjernhök would come here soon. Now there's a fellow! he will turn out something first-rate! I wish hewere coming soon; perhaps he might influence Henrik, and induce him togive up this verse-making, which, perhaps, at bottom, is only vanity. "

Elise and the daughters were silent. For a considerable time now, Elisehad accustomed herself to silence when her husband grumbled. Butoften--whenever it was necessary--she would return to the subject of hisdiscontent at a time when he was calm, and then, talk it over with him;and this line of tactics succeeded admirably. She made use of them onthe present occasion. 

"Ernst, " said she to him in the evening, "it grieves me that you are sodispleased with Henrik's poetical bent. Ah! it has delighted me so much, precisely because I fancied that it is real, and that in this case itmay be as useful as any other can be. Still I never will encourageanything in him which is opposed to your wishes. "

"My dear Elise, " returned he mildly, "manage this affair according toyour own convictions and conscience. It is very probable that you areright, and that I am wrong. All that I beseech of you is, that you watchover yourself, in order that affection to your first-born may notmislead you to mistake for excellence that which is only mediocre, andhis little attempts for masterpieces. Henrik may be, if he can, adistinguished poet and literary man; but he must not as yet imaginehimself anything; above all things, he must not suppose it possible tobe a distinguished man in any profession without preparing himself byserious labour, and without first of all becoming a thinking being. Ifhe were this, I promise you that I should rejoice over my son, let himbe what profession he would--a worker in thought or a worker inmountains. And for this very reason one must be careful not to value toohighly these poetical blossoms. If vanity remains in him he never willcovet serious renown in anything. "

"You are right, Ernst, " said his wife, with all the cordiality of inwardconviction. 

 * * * * *

Henrik also longed earnestly for Stjernhök's arrival. He wished to showhim his work; he longed to measure his new historical and philosophicalknowledge against that of his friend; he longed, in one word, to beesteemed by him; for Henrik's gentle and affectionate nature had alwaysfelt itself powerfully attracted by the energetic and, as one may say, metallic nature of the other, and ever since the years of their boyhoodhad the esteem and friendship of Stjernhök been the goal of Henrik'sendeavours, and of his warm, although till now unattainable, wishes. Stjernhök had hitherto always behaved towards Henrik with a certainfriendly indifference, never as a companion and friend. 

Stjernhök came. He was received by the whole family with the greatestcordiality, but by no one with a warmer heart than Henrik. 

There was even externally the greatest dissimilarity between these twoyoung men. Henrik was remarkable for extraordinary, almost femininebeauty; his figure was noble but slender, and his glance glowing thoughsomewhat dreamy. Stjernhök, some years Henrik's senior, had become earlya man. All with him was muscular, firm, and powerful; his countenancewas intelligent without being handsome, and a star as it were gleamed inhis clear, decided eye; such a star as is often prophetic of fate, andover whose path fortunate stars keep watch. 

Some days after Stjernhök's arrival Henrik became greatly changed. Hehad become quiet, and there was an air of depression on his countenance. Stjernhök now, as he had always done, did not appear unfriendly toHenrik, but still paid but little attention to him. He occupied himselfvery busily, partly with trying chemical experiments with Jacobi and theladies, and partly in the evening, and even into the night, in makingastronomical observations with his excellent telescope. One of thebeaming stars to which the observations of the young astronomer wereindustriously directed was called afterwards in the family Stjernhök'sstar. All gathered themselves around the interesting and well-informedyoung man. The Judge took the greatest delight in his conversation, andasserted before his family more than once his pleasure in him, and thehopes which the nation itself might have of him. The young student ofMining was a favourite with the Judge also because, besides hisextraordinary knowledge, he behaved always with the greatest respecttowards older and more experienced persons. 

"See, Henrik, " said his father to him one day, after a conversation withStjernhök, "what _I_ call poetry, real poetry; it is this--to tame therivers, and to compel their wild falls to produce wealth and comfort, whilst woods are felled on their banks and corn-fields cultivated; humandwellings spring up, and cheerful activity and joyful voices enliven thecountry. Look! that may be called a beautiful creation!"

Henrik was silent. 

"But, " said Gabriele, with all her natural refinement, "to be happy inthese homes, they must be able to read a pleasant book or to sing abeautiful song, else their lives, spite of all their waterfalls, wouldbe very dry!"

The Judge smiled, kissed his little daughter, and tears of delightfilled his eyes. 

Henrik, in the mean time, had gone into another room and seated himselfat a window. His mother followed him. 

"How do you feel, my Henrik?" said she affectionately, gently takingaway the hand which shaded his eyes. His hand was concealing his tears. "My good, good youth!" exclaimed she, her eyes also overflowing withtears, and throwing her arms around him. "Now see!" began sheconsolingly, "you should not distress yourself when your father speaksin a somewhat one-sided manner. You know perfectly well how infinitelygood and just he is, and that if he be only once convinced of thegenuineness of your poetic talent, he will be quite contented. He isonly now afraid of your stopping short in mediocrity. He would bepleased and delighted if you obtained honour in your own peculiar way. "

"Ah!" said Henrik, "if I only knew whether or not I had a peculiarway--a peculiar vocation. But since Stjernhök has been here, and I havetalked with him, everything, both externally and internally, seemsaltered. I don't any longer understand myself. Stjernhök has shown mehow very little I know of that which I supposed myself to know a greatdeal, and what bungling my work is! I see it now perfectly, and itdistresses me. How strong-minded and powerful Stjernhök is! I wish Iwere able to resemble him! But it is impossible, I feel myself such amere nothing beside him! And yet, when I am alone, either with my books, or out in the free air with the trees, the rocks, the waters, the windsaround me, and with heaven above, thoughts arise in me, feelings takepossession of me, nameless sweet feelings, and then expressions andwords speak in me which affect me deeply, and give me inexpressibledelight; then all that is great and good in humanity is so present withme; then I have a foretaste of harmony in everything, of God ineverything; and it seems to me as if words thronged themselves to mylips to sing forth the gloriousness of that which I perceive. In suchmoments I feel something great within me, and I fancy that my songswould find an echo in every heart. Yes, it is thus that I feelsometimes; but when I see Stjernhök all is vanished, and I feel solittle, so poor, I am compelled to believe that I am a dreamer and afool!"

"My good youth, " said the mother, "you mistake yourself. Your gifts andStjernhök's are so dissimilar: but if you employ your talents withsincerity and earnestness, they will in their turn bring forth fruit. Iconfess to you, Henrik, that it was, and still is, one of my most livelywishes that one of my children might become distinguished in the fieldsof literature. Literature has furnished to me my most beautifulenjoyments; and in my younger years I myself was not without my ambitionin this way. I see in you my own powers more richly blossoming. I myselfbloom forth in them, my Henrik, and in my hopes of you. Ah! might I liveto the day in which I saw you honoured by your native land; in which Isaw your father proud of his son, and I myself able to gladden my heartwith the fruit of your genius, your work--oh, then I would gladly die!"

Enthusiastic fire flamed in Henrik's looks and on his cheeks, as whilst, embracing his mother, he said, "No, you shall live, mother, to behonoured on account of your son. He promises that you shall have joy inhim!"

The sunbeam which just then streamed into the room fell upon Henrik'sbeautiful hair, which shone like gold. The mother saw it--saw silently aprophesying in it, and a sun-bright smile diffused itself over hercountenance. 

 * * * * *

Petrea read the "Magic King. " She ought properly to have read it aloudto the family circle in an evening, and then its dangerous magic wouldhave been decreased; but she read it beforehand, privately to herselfduring the night, and it drew her into the bewildering magic circle. Shethought of nothing, dreamed of nothing, but wonderful adventure;wonderfully beautiful ladies, and wonderfully brave heroes! She washerself always one of them, worshipped or worshipping; now combating, cross in hand, against witches and dragons; now wandering in dreamymoonlight among lilies in the Lady Minnetrost's Castle. It seemed as ifthe chaotic confusion of Petrea's brain had here taken shape andstature, and she now took possession with redoubled force of thephantasy world, which once before, under the guise of the Wood-god, hadcarried away her childish mind and conducted her into false tracks; andit was so even now; for while she moved night and day in a dream-worldin which she luxuriated to exultation, in magnificent and wonderfulscenes, in which she herself always played a part, she got on butlamentably in real and every-day life. The head in which so manysplendid pictures and grand schemes were agitating, looked generallysomething like a bundle of flax; she never noticed the holes and specksin her dress, nor her ragged stockings and trodden-down shoes; sheforgot all her little, every-day business, and whatever she had in herhand she either lost or dropped. 

She had, besides, a passion for cracking almonds. "A passion, " Louisesaid, "as expensive as it was noisy, and which never was stronger thanwhen she went about under the influence of the magic ring; and thatperpetual crack! crack! which was heard wherever she went, and thealmond shells on which people trod, or which hung to the sleeve ofwhoever came to the window, were anything but agreeable. "

Whenever Petrea was deservedly reproved or admonished for these things, she fell out of the clouds, or rather out of her heaven, down to theearth, which seemed to her scarcely anything else than a heap of nettlesand brambles, and very gladly indeed would she have bought with tenyears of her life one year of the magic power of the "Magic Ring, "together with beauty, magic charms, power, and such-like things, whichshe did not possess, except in her dreams. 

Petrea's life was a cleft between an ideal and a real world, of both ofwhich she knew nothing truly, and which, therefore, could not becomeamalgamated in her soul. Rivers of tears flowed into the separatinggulf, without being able to fill it or to clear her vision, while shenow complained of circumstances, and now of her own self, as being thecause of what she endured. 

It was at this time that, partly at the wish of the parents, and partlyalso out of his own kind-heartedness, Jacobi began seriously to occupyhimself with Petrea; and he occupied her mind in such a manner asstrengthened and practised her thinking powers, whereby the fermentationin her feelings and imagination was in some measure abated. All this wasindescribably beneficial to her, and it would have been still more sohad not the teacher been too----but we will leave the secret to futureyears. 

 * * * * *

The Judge received one day a large letter from Stockholm, which, afterhe had read, he silently laid before his wife. It came from the highestquarter, contained most honourable and flattering praise of the servicesof Judge Frank, of which the government had long been observant, and nowoffered him elevation to the highest regal court of justice. 

When Elise had finished the letter she looked up inquiringly to herhusband, who stood beside her. "What think you of it, Ernst?" asked she, with a constrained and uneasy glance. 

The Judge walked more quickly up and down the room, as was his customwhen anything excited him. "I cannot feel indifferent, " said he; "I amaffected by this mark of confidence in my sovereign. I have longexpected this occurrence; but I feel, I see that I cannot leave mypresent sphere of operation. My activity is suited to it; I know that Iam of service here, and the confidence of the Governor gives meunrestrained power to work according to my ability and views. It ispossible that he, instead of me, may get the credit of the good which isdone in the province; but, in God's name, let it be so! I know that whatis good and beneficial is actually done, and that is enough; but thereis a great deal which is only begun which must be completed, and a greatdeal, an infinite great deal, remains yet to be done. I cannot leave ahalf-finished work--I cannot and I will not! One must complete one'swork, else it is good for nothing! And I know that here I am--but I amtalking only of myself. Tell me, Elise, what you wish--what you wouldlike. "

"Let us remain here!" said Elise, giving her hand to her husband, andseating herself beside him. "I know that you would have no pleasure in ahigher rank, in a larger income, if you on that account must leave asphere where you feel yourself in your place, and where you can workaccording to the desire of your own heart, and where you are surroundedby persons who esteem and love you! No; let us remain here!"

"But you, you Elise, " said he; "speak of yourself, not of me. "

"Yes, you!" answered she, with the smile of a happy heart, "that is notso easy to do--for you see all that belongs to the one is so interwovenwith what belongs to the other. But I will tell you something aboutmyself. I looked at myself this morning in the glass--no satiricallooks, my love!--and it seemed to me as if I appeared strong andhealthy. I thought of you, thought how good and kind you were, and how, whilst I had walked by your side, I had been strengthened both in bodyand mind; how I must still love you more and more, and how we had becomehappier and happier together. I thought of your activity, so rich inblessing both for home and for the general good; thought on thechildren, how healthy and good they are, and how their characters haveunfolded so happily under our hands. I thought of our new house whichyou have built so comfortable and convenient for us all, and just thenthe sun shone cheerfully into my little, beloved boudoir, and I feltmyself so fortunate in my lot! I thanked God both for it and for you! Iwould willingly live and die in this sphere--in this house. Let us thenremain here. "

"God bless you for these words, Elise!" said he. "But the children--thechildren! Our decision will influence their future; we must also hearwhat they have to say; we must lay the matter before them: not that Ifear their having, if they were aware of our mode of reasoning, any wishdifferent to ours, but at all events they must have a voice in thebusiness. Come, Elise! I shall have no rest till it is all talked overand decided. "

 * * * * *

When the Judge laid the affair before the family council, it occasioneda great surprise; on which a general silence ensued, and attractivevisions began to swarm before the eyes of the young people, not exactlyof the highest Court of Judicature, but of the seat of the same--of theCapital. Louise looked almost like a Counsellor of Justice herself. Butwhen her father had made known his and his wife's feelings on thesubject, he read in their tearful eyes gratitude for the confidence hehad placed in them, and the most entire acquiescence with his will. 

No one spoke, however, till "the little one"--the father had not said toher, "Go out for awhile, Gabriele dear;" "Let her stop with us, " hesaid, on the contrary, "she is a prudent little girl!"--no, none spoketill Gabriele threw her arms about her mother's neck, and exclaimed, "Ah, don't let us go away from here--here we are so happy!"

This exclamation was echoed by all. 

"Well, then, here we remain, in God's name!" said the Judge, rising upand extending his arms, with tears in his eyes, towards the belovedcircle. "Here we remain, children! But this shall not prevent yourseeing Stockholm, and enjoying its pleasures and beauties! I thank God, my children, that you are happy here; it makes me so, too. Do youunderstand that?"

 * * * * *

On this day, for the first time after a long interval, Leonore dinedwith the family. Everybody rejoiced on that account; and as hercountenance had a brighter and more kindly expression than common, everybody thought her pretty. Eva, who had directed and assisted hertoilet, rejoiced over her from the bottom of her heart. 

"Don't you see, Leonore, " said she, pointing up to heaven, where lightblue openings were visible between clouds, which for the greater part ofthe day had poured down rain--"don't you see it is clearing up, Leonore?and then we will go out together, and gather flowers and fruit. " And asshe said this her blue eyes beamed with kindness and the enjoyment oflife. 

 * * * * *

"What, in all the world, are these doing here?" asked Henrik, as he sawhis mother's shoes standing in the window in the pale sunshine; "theyought to be warmed, I fancy, and the sun has no desire to come out anddo his duty. No, in this case, I shall undertake to be sun!"

"That you are to me, my summer-child!" said the mother, smilingaffectionately as she saw Henrik had placed her shoes under hiswaistcoat, to warm them on his breast. 

 * * * * *

"My sweet Louise!" exclaimed Jacobi, "you can't think what lovelyweather it is! Should we not take a little walk? You come with us? Youlook most charming--but, in heaven's name, not in the Court-preacher!"

FOOTNOTES:

[15] Thomas Thorild, born 1759, died 1808, an eminent Swedish poet. 

PART III. 

CHAPTER I. 

LEONORE TO EVA. 

"And so you are coming home? Coming really home soon, sweet Eva? Ah! Iam so happy, so joyful on that account, and yet a little anxious: butdon't mind that; come, only come, and all will be right! When I can onlylook into your eyes, I feel that all will be clear. Your goodeyes!--Gabriele and I call them 'our blue ones'--how long it is that Ihave not seen you--two long years! I cannot conceive, dear Eva, how Ihave lived so long without you; but then it is true that we have notbeen in reality separated. I have accompanied you into the great world;I have been with you to balls and concerts; I have enjoyed with you yourpleasures and the homage which has been paid to you. Ah! what joy for methat I have learned to love you! Since then I have lived twofold, andfelt myself so rich in you! And now you are coming back; and then, shallwe be as happy as before?

"Forgive, forgive this note of interrogation! But sometimes a disquietcomes over me. You speak so much of the great world, of joys andenjoyments, which--it is not in home to afford you. And your grand newacquaintance--ah, Eva! let them be ever so agreeable and interesting, they would not love you as we do, as I do! And then this Major R----! Iam afraid of him, Eva. It appears to me the most natural thing in theworld that he should love you, but--ah, Eva! it grieves me that youshould feel such affection for him. My dear, good Eva, attach yourselfnot too closely to him before--but I distress you, and that I will not. Come, only come to us; we have so much to talk to you about, so much tohear from you, so much to say to you!

"I fancy you will find the house yet more agreeable than formerly; wehave added many little decorations to it. You will again take breakfastwith us--that comfortable meal, and my best-beloved time; and tea withus--your favourite hour, in which we were assembled for a merry evening, and were often quite wild. This morning I took out your breakfast-cup, and kissed that part of the edge on which the gold was worn off. 

"We will again read books together, and think about and talk about themtogether. We will again go out together and enjoy all the freshness andquiet of the woods. And would it not be a blessed thing to wander thuscalmly through life, endeavouring to improve ourselves, and to make allthose around us happier; to admire the works of God, and humbly to thankHim for all that he has given to us and others? Should we not then havelived and flourished enough on earth? Truly I know that a life quiet asthis might not satisfy every one; neither can it accord with all seasonsof life. Storms will come;--even I have had my time of unrest, ofsuffering, and of combat. But, thank God! that is now past, and thesensibility which destroyed my peace is now become as a light to mypath; it has extended my world; it has made me better: and now that I nolonger covet to enjoy the greater and stronger pleasures of life, Ilearn now, each passing day, to prize yet higher the treasures whichsurround me in this quiet every-day life. Oh, no one can be happy onearth till he has learned the worth of little things, and to attend tothem! When once he has learned this, he may make each day not onlyhappy, but find in it cause of thankfulness. But he must havepeace--peace both within himself and without himself; for peace is thesun in which every dewdrop of life glitters!

"Would that I could but call back peace into a heart which--but I mustprepare you for a change, for a great void in the house. You will notfind Petrea here. You know the state of things which so much distressedme for some time. It would not do to let it go on any longer either forLouise or Jacobi's sake, or yet for her own, and therefore Petrea mustgo, otherwise they all would have become unhappy. She herself saw it;and as we had tidings of Jacobi's speedy arrival here, she opened herheart to her parents. It was noble and right of her, and they were asgood and prudent as ever; and now our father has gone with her to hisfriend Bishop B. May God preserve her, and give her peace! I shed manytears over her; but I hope all may turn out well. Her lively heart has afresh-flowing fountain of health in it; and certainly her residence inthe country, which she likes so much, new circumstances, newinterests----

"I was interrupted: Jacobi is come! It is a good thing that Petrea isnow whiling away her time in the shades of Furudal; good for her poorheart, and good too for the betrothed pair, who otherwise could not haveventured to have been happy in her presence. But now they are entirelyso. 

"Now, after six years' long waiting, sighing, and hoping, Jacobi seeshimself approaching the goal of his wishes--marriage and a parsonage!And the person who helps him to all this, to say nothing of his ownindividual deserts, is his beloved patron the excellent ExcellencyO----. Through his influence two important landed-proprietors in theparish of Great T. Have been induced to give their votes to Jacobi, who, though yet young, has been proposed; and thus he will receive one of thelargest and most beautiful livings in the bishopric, and Louise willbecome a greatly honoured pastor's wife--'provost's wife' she herselfsays prophetically. 

"The only _but_ in this happiness is, that it will remove Jacobi andLouise so far from us. Their highest wish had been to obtain the ruralappointment near this city; and thus we might in that case havemaintained our family unbroken, even though Louise had left her home;but--'but, ' says our good, sensible 'eldest, ' with a sigh, 'all thingscannot be perfect here on earth. '

"The day of nomination falls early in the spring; and Jacobi, who mustenter upon his office immediately after his appointment, wishes tocelebrate his marriage at Whitsuntide, in order that he may conduct hisyoung wife into his shepherd's hut along flower-bestrewn paths, and bythe song of the lark. Mrs. Gunilla jestingly beseeches of him not tobecome too nomadic: however, this is certain, that no living being hasmore interest about cows and calves, sheep and poultry, than Louise. 

"The future married couple are getting their whole household in orderbeforehand; and Gabriele heartily amuses herself with such fragments oftheir entertaining conversation as reach her ear, while they sit on thesofa in the library talking of love and economy. But it is not talking_alone_ that they do, for Jacobi's heart is full of warm human love; andour father has not the less imparted to all his children somewhat of hislove for the general good, although Gabriele maintains that her portionthereof is as yet very small. 

"It gives one great pleasure to see the betrothed go out to makepurchases, and then to see them return so cordially well pleased withall they have bought. Louise discovers something so unsurpassablyexcellent in everything with which she furnishes herself, whether it bean earthen or a silver vessel. When I look at these two, like a pair ofbirds carrying together straws to their nest, and twittering over them, I cannot help thinking that it must be a greater piece of good fortuneto come to the possession of a humbly supplied habitation which one hasfurnished oneself, than to that of a great and rich one for which otherpeople have cared. One is, in the first place, so well acquainted with, so on thee-and-thou terms with one's things; and certainly nobody inthis world can be more so than Louise with hers. 

"We are all of us now working most actively for the wedding, but stillour father does not look with altogether friendly eyes on an occasionwhich will withdraw a daughter from his beloved circle. He would sogladly keep us all with him, for which I rejoice and am grateful. Apropos! we have a scheme for him which will make him happy in his oldage, and our mother also. You remember the great piece of building-landovergrown with bushes, which the people had not understanding enougheither to build upon or to give up to us, this we intend--but we willtalk about it mouth to mouth. Petrea has infected us all, even 'oureldest, ' with her desire for great undertakings; and then--truly it is ajoy to be able to labour for the happiness of those who have labouredfor us so affectionately and unweariedly. 

"Now something about friends and acquaintance. 

"All friends and acquaintance ask much after you. Uncle Jeremiaswrangles because you do not come, all the time he breakfasts with us(generally on Wednesday and Saturday mornings), and while he abuses ourrusks, but notwithstanding devours a great quantity of them. For sometime he has appeared to me to have become more amiable than formerly;his temper is milder, his heart always was mild. He is the friend andphysician of all the poor. A short time ago he bought a little villa, amile distant from the city; it is to be the comfort of his age, and isto be called 'The Old Man's Rose, '--does not that sound comfortable?

"Annette P. Is very unhappy with her coarse sister-in-law. She does notcomplain; but look, complexion, nay, even her whole being, indicate thedeepest discontent with life; we must attract her to us, and endeavourto make her happier. 

"Here comes Gabriele, and insists upon it that I should leave some roomfor her scrawl. A bold request! But then who says no to her? Not I, andtherefore I must make a short ending. 

"If a certain Baron Rutger L. Be introduced to you when you return, donot imagine that he is deranged, although he sometimes seems as if hewere so. He is the son of one of my father's friends; and as he is to beeducated by my father for a civil post, he is boarded in our family. Heis a kind of '_diamant brute_, ' and requires polishing in more sensesthan one; in the mean time I fancy his wild temper is in a fair way ofbeing tamed. One word from our mother makes impression upon him; and heis actually more regardful of the ungracious demeanour of our littlelady, than of the moral preaching of our eldest. He is just nineteen. Old Brigitta is quite afraid of him, and will hardly trust herself topass him lest he should leap over her. Oh, how happy she, like everybodyelse, will be to see you back again! She fears lest you should getmarried, and stop in 'the hole, ' as she calls Stockholm. 

"Henrik will remain with us over Christmas, but you must come and helpto enliven him; he is not so joyous as formerly. I fancy that themisunderstanding between him and Stjernhök distresses him. Ah! why wouldnot these two understand one another! For the rest, many things are nowat stake for Henrik; God grant that all may go well, both on his accountand mamma's!

"We shall not see Petrea again till after Louise's marriage. When shallwe all be again all together at home? Sara! ah? it is now above fouryears since we heard anything of her, and all inquiry and search afterher has been in vain. Perhaps she lives no longer! I have wept manytears over her; oh! if she should return! I feel that we should behappier together than formerly; there was much that was good and noblein her, but she was misled--I hear my mother's light steps, and thatpredicts that she has something good for me----

"Ah, yes! she has! she has a letter from you, my Eva! You cannot fix theday of your return, and that is very sad--but you come soon! You loveStockholm; so do I also; I could embrace Stockholm for that reason. 

"I am now at the very edge of my paper. Gabriele has bespoken the otherside. I leave you now, in order to write to _her_ who left us withtears, but who, as I cordially hope, will return to us with smiles. "

 FROM GABRIELE. 

 In the Morning. 

 "I could not write last evening, and am now up before the sun in order to tell you that nothing can console me for Petrea's absence, excepting your return. We are all of us terribly longing after 'our Rose. ' I know very well who beside your own family longs for this same thing. 

 "I must tell you that a little friendship has been got up between Uncle Jeremias and me. All this came about in the fields, for he is never particularly polite within doors; whilst in a walk, the beautiful side of his character always comes out. Petrea and I have taken such long excursions with him, and then he was mild and lively; then he botanised with us, told us of the natural families in the vegetable kingdom, and related the particular life and history of many plants. Do you know it is the most agreeable thing in the world to know something of all this; one feels oneself on such familiar terms with these vegetable families. Ah! how often when I feel thus am I made aware how indescribably rich and glorious life is, and I fancy that every one must live happily on earth who has only eyes and sense awakened to all that is glorious therein, and then I can sing like a bird for pure life-enjoyment. In the mean time, Uncle Jeremias and I cultivate flowers in the house quite enthusiastically, and intend at Christmas to make presents of both red and white lilacs; but, indeed, I have almost a mind to cry that the nose of my Petrea cannot smell them. 

 "But I must come to an end, for you must know that occasionally I have undertaken to have a watchful eye over the breakfast-table, and therefore I go now to look after it. Bergström has fortunately done all this, so that I have nothing now to do; next I must go and look after my moss-rose, and see whether a new bud has yet made its appearance; then I shall go and see after mamma; one glance must I give through the window to the leaves in the garden, which nod a farewell to me before they fall from the twigs; and to the sun also, which now rises bright and beaming, must I send a glance--a beam from the sun of my eyes and out of the depth of my thankful heart; and therefore that I may be able, for the best well-being of the community, to attend to all these important matters, I must say to you, farewell! to you who are so dear to me. "

CHAPTER II. 

PETREA TO LEONORE. 

 From the Inn at D----. 

 "It is evening, and my father is gone out in order to make arrangements for our to-morrow's voyage. I am alone: the mist rises thick without, before the dirty inn-windows; my eyes also are misty; my heart is heavy and full, I must converse with you. 

 "Oh, Leonore! the bitter step has thus been taken--I am separated from my own family, from my own home; and not soon shall I see again their mild glances, or hear your consoling voice! and all this--because I have not deserved--because I have destroyed the peace of my home! Yes, Leonore! in vain will you endeavour to excuse me, and reconcile me with myself! I know that I am criminal--that I have desired, that I have wished, at least, for a moment--oh, I would now press the hem of Louise's garment to my lips and exclaim 'Forgive, forgive! I have passed judgment on myself--I have banished myself; I fly--fly in order no more to disturb your happiness or his!'

 "I was a cloud in their heaven; what should the cloud do there? May the wind disperse it! Oh, Leonore, it is an indescribably bitter feeling for a heart which burns with gratitude to be able to do nothing more for the object of its love than to keep itself at a distance, to make itself into nothing! But rather that--rather a million-times hide myself in the bosom of the earth, than give sorrow either to him or to her! Truly, if thereby I could win anything for them; if I could moulder to dust like a grain of corn, and then shoot forth for them into plentiful blessing--that would be sweet and precious, Leonore! People extol all those who are able to die for love, for honour, for religion, for high and noble ends, and wherefore? Because it is, indeed, a mercy from God to be able so to die--it is life in death!

 "I know a life which is death--which, endured through long clinging years, would be a burden to itself, and a joy to no one. Oh, how bitter! Wherefore must the craving after happiness, after enjoyment, burn like an eternal thirst in the human soul, if the assuaging fountain, Tantalus like----?

 "Leonore, my eyes burn, my head aches, and my heart is wildly tempested! I am not good--I am not submissive--my soul is a chaos--a little earth on forehead and breast, that might be good for me. 

 On board the Steam-boat. 

 "Thanks, Leonore, thanks for your pillow; it has really been an ear-comfort for me. [16] Yesterday I thought that I was in the direct way to become ill. I shivered; I burned; my head ached fearfully: I felt as if torn to pieces. But when I laid my head upon your little pillow, when my ear rested upon the delicate cover which you had ornamented with such exquisite needlework, then it seemed to me as if your spirit whispered to me out of it; a repose came over me; all that was bad vanished so quickly, so wonderfully; I slept calmly; I was quite astonished when they woke me in the morning to feel that, bodily, I was quite well, and mentally like one cured. This has been done by your pillow, Leonore. I kissed it and thanked you. 

 "It is related in the Acts of the Apostles that they brought the sick and laid them in the way on which the holy men went, that at least their shadows might fall upon them, and make them sound. I have faith in the power of such a remedy; yes, the good, the holy, impart somewhat of their life, of their strength, to all that belong to them: I have found that to-night. 

 "We went on board. The 'Sea-Witch' thundered and flew over the sea. I know that she conveyed me away from you all, and leaning over the bulwarks I wept. I felt then a pair of arms tenderly and gently surrounding me; they were my father's! He wrapped a warm cloak around me, and leaning on his breast, I raised my head. The morning was clear; white flame-like clouds chased by the morning wind flew across the deep blue; the waves beat foaming against the vessel; green meadows, autumnally beautiful parks, extended themselves on either side of us; space opened itself. I stood with my face turned towards the wind and space, let the sea-spray wet my lips and my eyelids, a soft shudder passed through me, and I felt that life was beautiful. Yes, in the morning hour, filled with its beaming-light, in this pure fresh wind, I felt the evil demons of my soul retreat, and disperse themselves like mist and vapour. I drank in the morning winds; I opened my heart to life; I might also have opened my arms to them, and at the same time to all my beloved ones, that thus I might have expressed to them the quiet prediction of my heart, that love to them will heal me, will afford me strength some time or other to give them joy. 

 The second day on board. 

 "I should like to know whether a deep heart-grief would resist the influence of a long voyage. There is something wonderfully strengthening, something renovating in this life, this voyaging, this fresh wind. It chases the dust from the eyes of the soul; one sees oneself and others more accurately, and gets removed from one's old self. One journeys in order to stand upon a new shore, and amid new connexions. One begins, as it were, anew. 

 "We had a storm yesterday, and with the exception of my father, I was the only passenger who remained well, and on this account I could help the sufferers. It is true it was not without its discomforts; it is true that I reeled about sometimes with a glass of water, and sometimes with a glass of drops in the hand; but I saw many a laughable scene; many an odd trait of human nature. I laughed, made my own remarks, forgot myself, and became friendly with all mankind. Certainly it would be a very good thing for me to be maid-servant on board a steam-boat. 

 "Towards evening, the storm, as well within as without the vessel, abated itself. I sate solitary on dock till midnight. The waves still foamed around the agreeably rocking vessel; the wind whistled in the rigging; and the full moon, heralded by one bright little star, rose from the sea, and diffused her mild wondrous light over its dark expanse. It was infinitely glorious! Nameless thoughts and feelings arose in me, full of love and melancholy, and yet at the same time elevating and strengthening; a certain longing after that for which I knew no name. I desired I knew not what. 

 "But I fear and know that which I do not desire. I fear the quiet measured life into which I am about again to enter--conventionalities, forms, social life, all this cramps my soul together, and makes it inclined to excesses. Instead of sitting in select society, and drinking tea in 'high life, ' would I rather roam about the world in Viking expeditions--rather eat locusts with John the Baptist in the wilderness, and go hither and thither in a garment of camel's hair; and after all, such apparel as this must be very convenient in comparison with our patchwork toilet. Manifold are the changing scenes of life, and how shall I find my way, and where shall I find my place in the magic circle of the world. Forgive me, Leonore, that I talk so much about myself. Thou good one, thou hast spoiled me in this respect. 

 "We reached Furudal to-day in the afternoon. 

 Furudal. 

 "Here are we on land; I would that I were at sea! I come even now from the sitting-room, and in the sitting-room I always suffer shipwreck. An evil genius always makes me say or do something there unbecoming. This evening I entangled the reel of the Bishop's lady, and told a stupid anecdote about a relation of hers. I wished to be witty, and I succeeded badly, as I always do. 

 "They are very neat people here. The Bishop is a small pale man, with something angelic in voice and expression, but--he will not have much time to bestow on me; he lives in his books and his official duties, and moreover he is almost always in the city; and his lady, who remains here perpetually, has very delicate health; but I will wait upon her, and read aloud to her, and that will give me pleasure. I only hope she may endure me. 

 "Both husband and wife were amiable towards my father's daughter, but I very well believe that they did not find me very loveable. Intolerably hot, too, was their blessed drawing-room, and I was tanned with the wind, and as red as a peony. Such things as these are enough to make one a little desperate; all these things are trifles, yet they are nevertheless annoying; and then it is depressing, everlastingly to displease exactly where one wishes most to please!

 * * * * *

 "I have unpacked the trunk which you all so carefully packed for me; and now new and newly-repaired articles of clothing flew into my arms one after another. Oh, sisters! it was you who have thus brought my toilet in order for the whole winter! How good you are! I recognised Louise's hand again. Oh, I must weep, my beloved ones!--my home!

 Some days later. 

 "The pine-trees rustle fresh and still. I have been out;--mountains, woods, solitude with nature--glorious!

 "Oh, Leonore, I will begin a new life; I will die to my ancient self, to vanity, to error, to self-love. Every flattering token of remembrance--notes, keepsakes--be they from man or woman, I have destroyed. I send you herewith a little sum of money, which I received for ornaments and for some of my own manufactures, which I sold. Buy something with it which will give pleasure to Louise and Jacobi; but do not let them surmise, I earnestly beseech you, that it comes from Petrea. If I could only sell myself for a respectable price, and make them rich, then----

 "I shall have a deal of time for myself here, and I know how I shall employ it. I will go out a great deal. I will wander through wood and field, in storm, snow, and every kind of weather, till I am, at least, bodily weary. Perhaps then it may be calmer in the soul! I desire no longer to be happy. What does it matter if one is not happy, if one is only pure and good? Were the probation-day of life only not so long! Leonore, my good angel, pray for me!

 "May all be happy!

 "Greet all tenderly from your

 "Petrea. 

 "P. S. --My nose makes its compliments to Gabriele, and goes in the accompanying picture to pay her a visit. She must not imagine that I am cast down. I send also a little ballad or romance; the wood sung it to me last evening, and every harmonious sound, which life in my soul sings, must--go home! Oh, how I love you all!"

 * * * * *

And now, whilst our Petrea appears in rural solitude to prepare herselffor a new life, whilst the snow fell upon the earth in order to prepareit for now springs, we turn back to our well-known home in the town, anddescribe the occurrences there. 

FOOTNOTES:

[16] Poor Petrea makes a little pun here. The Swedish word örongodt(pillow) meaning literally good for the ear. --M. H. 

CHAPTER III. 

A CONVERSATION. 

Jacobi had left. October was come, with its storms and its longtwilight, which is so dark and heavy for all such as have it not cheeredby kindly glances and bright thoughts. 

One evening, as Henrik came down to tea, he was observed to lookuncommonly pale, and in answer to the inquiry of his sisters as to thecause, he replied that he had headache, and added, half in jest, half inearnest, that it would be very beautiful to be only once freed from thisheavy body--it was so sadly in one's way!

"How you talk!" said Louise; "at all events, it is right to treat itwell and rationally; not to go sitting up all night and studying so thatone has headache all day!"

"Thank your majesty most submissively for the moral!" said Henrik; "butif my body will not serve my soul, but will subject it, I have a verygreat desire to contend with it, and to quarrel with it!"

"The butterfly becomes matured in the chrysalis, " said Gabriele, smilingsweetly, whilst she strewed rose-leaves upon some chrysalises which wereto sleep through the winter on her flower-stand. 

"Ah, yes, " replied Henrik; "but how heavily does not the shell pressdown upon the wings of the butterfly! The earthly chrysalis weighs uponme! What would not the soul accomplish? how could it not live and enjoy, were it not for this? In certain bright moments, what do we not feel andthink? what brilliancy in conception! what godlike warmth of feeling inthe heart!--one could press the whole world to one's bosom at such atime, seeing, with a glance, through all, and penetrating all as withfire. Oh, there is then an abundance, a clearness! Yes, if our Lordhimself came to me at such a moment, I should reach forth my hand to himand say, 'Good day, brother!'"

"Dear Henrik!" said Louise, somewhat startled, "now I think you do notrightly know what you say. "

"Yes, " continued he, without regarding the interruption, "so can onefeel, but only for a moment; in the next, the chrysalis closes heavilyagain its earthly dust-mantle around our being, and we are stupified andsleep, and sink deep below that which we so lately were. Then one seesin books nothing but printed words, and in one's soul one finds neitherfeeling nor thought, and towards man, for whom so shortly before thevery heart seemed to burn, one feels oneself stiff and disinclined. Ah, it were enough to make one fall into despair!"

"It would be far better, " said Louise, "that such people went to sleep, and then they would get rid of headache and heaviness. "

"But, " said Henrik, smiling, "that is a sorrowful remedy according to mynotions. It is horrible to require so much sleep! How can any one who isa seven-sleeper become great? 'Les hommes puissans veillent et veulent, 'says Balzac with reason; and because my miserable heavy nature requiresso much sleep, so certainly shall I never turn out great in any way. Besides, this entrancement, this glorification produces such wakefulmoments in the soul, that one feels poor and stripped when they areextinguished. Ah! I can very well comprehend how so many make use ofexternal excitement to recal or to prolong them, and that they endeavourthrough the fire of wine to wake again the fire of the soul. "

"Then, " said Louise, "you comprehend something which is very bad andirrational. They are precisely such excitements as these that we have tothank for there being so many miserable men, and so many drunkards inSweden, that one can scarcely venture to go out in the streets forthem!"

"I do not defend it, dear Louise, " said Henrik, gently smiling at thezeal of his sister, "but I can understand it, and in certain cases I canexcuse it. Life is often felt to be so heavy, and the moments ofinspiration give a fulness to existence; they are like lightning flashesout of the eternal life!"

"And so they certainly are, " said Leonore, who had listened attentivelyto her brother, and whose mild eyes had become moist by his words; "andlife will certainly, " continued she, "feel thus clear, thus full, whenwe shall have become ever entirely freed from the chrysalis; not fromthe bonds of the body only, but of the soul also. Perhaps these momentsare given to us here on earth to allure us up to the Father's house, andto let us feel its air. "

"A beautiful thought, Leonore, " said her brother. "Thus these gleams oflight are truly revelations of our inward, actual, here-yet-enslavedlife. Good God! how glorious that--But ah! the long, long moments ofdarkness, what are they?"

"Trials of patience, times of preparation, " replied Leonore, tenderlysmiling. "Besides, the bright moments come again and gladden us withtheir light, and that so much the more frequently the further oneadvances in perfection. But one must, at the same time, learn to havepatience with oneself, Henrik, and here, in this life, to wait foroneself. "

"You have spoken a true word, sister. I must kiss your hand for it, "said Henrik. "Ah, yes, if----"

"Be now a little less sensible and æsthetic, " exclaimed "our eldest, ""and come here and drink a cup of tea! See here, Henrik, a cup of strongwarm tea, which will do your head good. But this evening and to-morrowmorning you must take a table-spoonful of my elixir!"

"From that defend us all, ye good--_Vi ringrazia carissima sorella!_"said Henrik. "But--but charming Gabriele! a drop of port wine in the teawould make it more powerful, without turning me into one of thosemiserable beings of whom Louise is so afraid! Thanks, sister dear!_Fermez les yeux_, O Mahomet!" and with an obeisance before Louise, Henrik conveyed the cup to his lips. 

Later in the evening Henrik stood in one of the library windows lookingout into the moonlight. Leonore went up to him and looked into his facewith that mild, humbly questioning glance to which the heart sowillingly opened itself, and which was peculiar to her. 

"You are so pale, Henrik, " said she, disquieted. 

"It is extraordinary, " said he, half laughing at himself; "do you see, Leonore, how the tops of the fir-trees there in the churchyard bowthemselves in the wind and beckon? I cannot conceive why, but thisnodding and beckoning distresses me wonderfully; I feel it in my veryheart. "

"That comes naturally enough, Henrik, " returned she, "because you arenot well. Shall we not go out a little? It is such lovely moonshine! Thefresh air will perhaps do you good. "

"Will you go with me, Leonore?" said he. "Yes, that is a good idea!"

Gabriele found it, however, rather poor, and called her brother andsister Samoyedes, Laplanders, Esquimaux, and such like, who would gowandering about in the middle of a winter's night. Nevertheless thesetwo went forth jestingly and merrily arm in arm. 

"Is it not too windy for you?" asked Henrik, whilst he endeavouredcarefully to shield his sister from the wind. 

"The wind is not cold, " replied Leonore, "and it is particularlycharming to me to walk by your side while it roars around us, and whilethe snow-flakes dance about in the moonshine like little elves. "

"Nay, you feel then like me!" said Henrik; "with you, sisters, I amever calm and happy; but I don't know how it is, but now for some timeother people often plague and irritate me----"

"Ah, Henrik, " remarked Leonore, "is not that someway your own fault?"

"Are you thinking of Stjernhök, Leonore?" asked he. 

"Yes. "

"So am I, " continued he, "and perhaps you are right; yes, I willwillingly concede that I have often been unjust towards him, andunreasonably violent, but he has excited me to it. Why has he made me sooften oppressively feel his superiority? so often taken away from me myown joy in my own endeavours, and almost always treated me with coldnessand depreciation?"

Leonore made no answer, the moonlight lit a quiet tear in her eye, andHenrik continued with increasing violence:

"I could have loved him so much! He had, through the originality of hischaracter, his strength, and his whole individuality, a great influence, a great power over me; but he has misused it; he has treated meseverely, precisely in the instances in which I approached him nearest. He has flung from him the devotion which I cherished for him. I willtell you the whole truth, Leonore, and how this has happened between us. You know that in the University, about three years ago, a sort ofliterary society of young men gathered themselves about me. Perhaps theyesteemed my literary talents too highly, and might mislead me--I couldalmost believe so myself, but I was the favourite of the day in thecircle in which my life moved; perhaps, on that account, I becamepresumptuous; perhaps a tone of pretension betrayed itself in me, and afalse, one-sided direction was visible in the poems which I thenpublished: nevertheless, these poems made some little noise in theworld. Shortly, however, after their appearance a criticism on them cameout, which made a yet greater noise, on account of its power, itsseverity, and also its satirical wit. Its acrimony spared neither mywork nor my character as a poet, and it produced almost universally are-action against me. It appeared to me severe and one-sided; and evennow, at this moment, it appears to me not otherwise, although I can nowsee its justice much better than at the time. 

"The anonymous author of the critique upon me was Stjernhök, and he didnot in the slightest deny it. He considered it as being much lessdirected against me personally, than against the increasing influence ofthe party of which I was a sort of chief. Even before this I had begunto withdraw myself from his power, which I always felt to be oppressive;and this new blow did not, by any means, tend to reunite us. His severecriticism had made me observant of my faults; but yet I do not knowwhether it would have produced any other effect than pain, had I not atthis time returned home to you; and at home, through the beneficialinfluence of my own family, a new strength and a purer direction hadbeen aroused in me. That was the time in which my father, withindescribable goodness, and in complot with you all, sold the half ofhis library to furnish me with the means of foreign travel. Yes, youhave called forth a new being in me; and all my poems, and all mywritings, are now designed to prove to you that I am not unworthy ofyou. Ah, yes! I love you warmly and deeply--but it is all over withStjernhök; the love which I cherished for him has changed itself intobitterness. "

"Ah, Henrik, Henrik, do not let it be so!" said Leonore. "Stjernhök isindeed a noble, a good man, even if, at the same time, too severe. Butreally he loves you as well as we, but you two will not understand oneanother; and Henrik, the last time you were really unjust to him--youseemed as if you could hardly bear him. "

"I hardly can, Leonore, " said he. "It is a feeling stronger than myself. I don't know what evil spirit it is which now, for some time, has setitself firmly in my heart; but there it is steadfastly rooted; and if Iam aware only of Stjernhök's presence, it is as if a sharp sword passedthrough me; before him my heart contracts itself; and if he only touchme, I feel as if burning lead went through my veins. "

"Henrik! dearest Henrik!" exclaimed Leonore with pain, "it is reallyterrible! Ah! make only the attempt with yourself; conquer yourfeelings, and extend the hand of reconciliation to him. "

"It is too late for that, Leonore, " said Henrik. "Yes, if it werenecessary for him, it would be easy; but what does he trouble himselfabout me? He never loved me, never esteemed either my efforts or myability. And perhaps it may be with some justice that he does not thinkso very highly of my talents. What have I done? And sometimes it seemsto me, even in the future, that I never shall do any thing great; thatmy powers are limited, and that my spring-time is past. Stjernhök's, onthe contrary, is yet to come; he belongs to that class which mountsslowly, but on that account all the more steadily. I see now, muchbetter than I did formerly, how far he stands beyond me, and how muchhigher he will rise--and his knowledge is martyrdom to me. "

"But wherefore, " pleaded Leonore, "these dark thoughts and feelings, dear Henrik, when your future appears fuller of hope than ever before?Your beautiful poetry; your prize essay, which is certain to bring youhonour; the prospect of an advantageous post, a sphere of action whichwill be dear to you--all this, which in a few months will so animateyour heart--why has it at this time so lost its power over you?"

"I cannot tell, " replied he; "but for some time now I have been, and ammuch changed; I have no faith in my good fortune; it seems to me as ifall my beautiful hopes will vanish like a dream. "

"And even if it were so, " said Leonore questioningly, with humility andtenderness, "could you not find happiness and peace at home; in theoccupation of your beloved studies; in the life with us, who love yousolely, and for your own sake?"

Henrik pressed his sister's arm to his side, but answered nothing; and aviolent passing gust of wind compelled him to stand still for a moment. 

"Horrible weather!" said he, wrapping his cloak round his sister at thesame time. 

"But this is your favourite weather, " remarked she jestingly. 

"_Was_, you should say, " returned he; "now I do not like it, perhapsbecause it produces a feeling in me which distresses me. " With thesewords he took his sister's hand and laid it on his heart. His heart beatwildly and strongly; its beating was almost audible. 

"Heavens!" exclaimed Leonore, alarmed, "Henrik, what is this?--is itoften thus?"

"Only occasionally;--I have had it now for some time, " replied he; "butdon't be uneasy on this account; and, above all things, say nothing tomy mother or Gabriele about it. I have spoken with Munter on thesubject; he has prescribed for me, and does not think it of muchconsequence. To-day I have had it without intermission, and perhaps I amfrom that cause somewhat hypochondriacal. Forgive me, dear Leonore, thatI have teased you about it. I am much better and livelier now; thislittle walk has done me good--if you only don't get cold, Leonore, oryou would certainly be punished, or at all events be threatened, withLouise's elixir. But does there not drive a travelling carriage towardsour door, exactly as if it would stop there? Can it be Eva? The carriagestops--it is certainly Eva!"

"Eva! Eva!" exclaimed Leonore, with cordial delight; and both brotherand sister ran so quickly to the gate that she was received into theirarms as she dismounted from the carriage. 

CHAPTER IV. 

EVA. 

Among the agreeable circumstances which occur in a happy home maycertainly be reckoned the return to its bosom of one of its belovedmembers. So returns the bee to the safe hive with her harvest of honey, after her flight abroad over the meadows of the earth. How much is therenot mutually to relate, to hear, to see, and to enjoy! Every cloud inthe heaven of home vanishes then; all is sunshine and joy; and it mustbe bad indeed if they do not find one another lovelier and improved, forwhen everything goes on right here, every advancing footstep in lifemust tend in a certain manner to improvement. 

Bright, indeed, did Eva's return make the hours of sunshine in the Frankfamily! The mutual love which demonstrated itself in embraces, smiles, tears, laughter, sweet words of greeting, and a thousand tokens of joyand tenderness, made the first hours vanish in a lively intoxication, and then, when all had become quieter and they looked nearer about them, all looks and thoughts gathered themselves still about Eva with rapture;her beauty seemed now in its full bloom, and a captivating life seemedto prevail in her looks, in her behaviour, in her every motion, whichhitherto had not been seen. Her dress of the most modern fashion, acertain development and style about her, a bewitching case of manner, all evinced the elegant circles of the capital, and exerted their magicover her friends, and charmed them all, but especially Gabriele, whofollowed her beautiful sister with beaming looks. 

Bergström gave way to his feelings in the kitchen, and exclaimed, "Mamselle Eva is quite divine!" Never had the blond Ulla so entirelyagreed with him before. 

Leonore was the only one who regarded Eva with a tender yet at the sametime troubled eye. She saw a something worldly in Eva's exterior anddemeanour, which was a presage to her that a great and not happy changehad taken place in her beloved sister. Nor was it long before Leonore'sforeboding proved itself to be right. Eva had not been many hours in thehouse before it was plainly visible that domestic affairs had but littleinterest for her, and that parents and family and friends were not toher all that they had been before. 

Eva's soul was entirely occupied by one object, which laid claim to allher thoughts and feelings, and this was Major R----. His handsomeperson, his brilliant talents; his amiability, his love; the parties inwhich she had met him, the balls in which she had danced with him; theoccasions on which they had played parts together--in short, all theromantic unfoldings of their connexion, were the pictures which nowalone lived in her heart, and danced around her fancy, now heated byworldly happiness. 

The grave expression of her father's countenance, as he heard her firstmention the Major, prevented her during this first evening fromrepeating his name. 

But when afterwards she was alone with her sisters, when the sweet hourof talk came, which between dear friends, on such occasions, generallyextends itself from night till morning, Eva gave free course to all withwhich her soul was filled, and related to her sisters at large herromance of the last year, in which several rival lovers figured, but ofwhich Major R---- was the hero. Nor was it without self-satisfactionthat Eva represented herself as the worshipped and conquering heroineamid a crowd of rival ladies. Her soul was so occupied by all thesecircumstances, her mind was so excited, that she did not observe theembarrassment of her sisters during her relation; she saw neither theirdisquiet, their constrained smiles, nor their occasionally depressedlooks. 

Nor was it till when, with eyes beaming with joy, she confided to themthat Major R---- would soon come to the city, where he had relatives;that he would spend the Christmas with them, and then ask her hand fromher parents, that the veil fell from her eyes. Louise expressed herselfstrongly against Major R----, wondered at her sister, and lamented thatshe could endure such a man; it was not, she said, what she had expectedfrom her. Eva, very much wounded, defended the Major with warmth, andtalked of intolerance and prejudice. In consequence of this, Louise'sindignation was increased; Gabriele began to weep, and Louise bore hercompany; she seemed to look upon Eva as on one lost. Leonore was calmer;she spoke not one word which could wound her sister, but sighed deeply, and looked with quiet grief upon the beloved but misguided sister; andthen seeing what a tragical turn the conversation was taking, said, withall that expression of calm sincerity so peculiarly her own:

"Do not let us this evening speak further on this subject; do not let usdisturb our joy. We have now Eva with us at home, and shall have timeenough to talk and to think--and then all will be cleared up. Is it notquite for the best that we sleep on this affair? Eva must be weary afterher journey, and our 'blue-eyed one' must not weep on this firstevening. "

Leonore's advice was taken, and with a mutual "forgive, " Louise, Eva, and Gabriele embraced and separated for the night. Leonore was happy tobe alone with Eva, and listened undisturbedly through the whole night toher relations. The good Leonore!

Major Victor R. Was universally known as one of those who make sportwith female hearts, and Judge Frank regarded sport of this kind with aseverity very uncommon among his sex, especially where, as was the casein this instance, selfishness, and not thoughtlessness, led to it. TheMajor, ten years before this time, had married a young and rich girlconnected with the Judge's family; and the only fault of the young wife, then sixteen, had been that of loving her husband too tenderly--nay, even in adoring one who repaid her love with relentless severity andfaithlessness, under which the poor Amelia drooped, and, in the secondyear of her marriage, died; but not without having bequeathed to theunworthy husband all the property over which she had any control. 

These were the very means by which R. Now was enabled to pursue hisbrilliant and reckless career. He always made his court to one of thebeauties of the day. He had been several times betrothed, but had brokenoff the affair again without the smallest regard to the reputation or tothe feelings of the girl, upon whom by this means he had cast astain--nay, indeed, he secretly regarded it as an honour to himself tomake such victims, and to cause hearts to bleed for him--that cooled theburning thirst of his self-love. 

The world did justice to his agreeable and splendid talents; but thenoble of his own sex, as well as of the other, esteemed him but verylightly, inasmuch as they considered him a person without true worth. The thoughts of a union between this man and his beloved daughteroccasioned a storm in the bosom of the Judge. 

Such was the information regarding the man whom she loved that met Evaon her return home. Everybody was unanimously against him. What Evaspoke in his excuse produced no effect; what she said of his true anddeep devotion to her, evidently nobody credited; and over her own love, which had made the world so beautiful, which had produced the mostdelicious feelings in her breast, and had opened to her a heaven ofhappiness, people mourned and wept, and regarded it as a misfortune, nay, even as a degradation. Wounded to the inmost of her soul, Eva drewherself back, as it were, from her own family, and accused them toherself of selfishness and unreasonableness. Louise, perhaps, deservedsomewhat of this reproach; but Leonore was pure, pure as the angels ofheaven; still Leonore mourned over Eva's love, and on that account Evaclosed her heart against her also. 

The variance, which in consequence of all this existed between Eva andher family, became only yet greater when Major R. Arrived, shortly afterher, at the city. He was a tall handsome man, of perhapsfive-and-thirty; of a haughty, but somewhat trifling exterior; hiscountenance was gay and blooming, and his look clear and bold. Greatpractice in the world, and an inimitable ease and confidence, gave tohis demeanour and conversation that irresistible power which thesequalities exercise so greatly in society. 

On his visit to the Franks, the Judge and he exchanged some glances, inwhich both read that neither could endure the other. The Major, however, let nothing of all this be seen; was perfectly candid and gay; and whilehe directed his conversation especially to Elise, spoke scarcely oneword to Eva, though he looked much at her. After the first stiffsalutation, the Judge went again into his study, for the very appearanceof this man was painful to him. Leonore was polite, nay, almost friendlyto him, for she would willingly have loved one whom Eva loved. AssessorMunter was present during this visit; but when he had seen, for a fewminutes, the glances which the Major cast upon Eva, and their magicinfluence over her, and had observed and had read her whole heart in atimid glance which she raised to her beloved, he withdrew silently andhastily. 

The Major came but seldom to the house, for the eye of the Judgeappeared to have the power of keeping him at a distance; on thecontrary, he managed it so that he saw Eva almost daily out of thehouse. He met her when she went out, and accompanied her home fromchurch. Invitations came; sledging-parties and balls were arranged; andEva, who formerly was so well pleased with home, who had often given upthe pleasures of the world for the domestic evening circle, Eva appearedto find nothing now pleasing at home; appeared only to be able to livein those circles and those pleasures in which Major R. Shone, and whereshe could see herself distinguished by him. Precisely, therefore, onaccount of these rencontres of the two, the family went as little aspossible into society. Still, notwithstanding all this, Eva's wishesupon the whole were favoured. Leonore accompanied her faithfullywherever she wished. The Judge was gloomy and disturbed in temper; themother was mild and accommodating; and as to Eva, she was in a highdegree sensitive; whilst whatever concerned her love, or seemed tooppose her wishes in the slightest degree, brought her to tears andhysterical sobs, and her friends became ever more and more aware howviolent and exclusive her love was to Major R. The mere glimpse of him, the sound of his steps, the tone of his voice, shook her whole frame. All earlier affectionate relationships had lost their power over herheart. 

It not unfrequently happens that people, whether it arises from physicalor moral causes, become wonderfully unlike themselves. Irritability, violence, indiscretion, and unkindness, suddenly reveal themselves in ahitherto gentle and amiable character, and, as if by a magic stroke, abeautiful form has been transformed into a witch. It requires a greatdeal, under such circumstances, to keep friends warm and unchanged. Agreat demand of goodness, a great demand of clearness of vision, is madefrom any one when, under these circumstances, he is required to remaintrue in the same love, to persevere in the same faith, to wait patientlyfor the time when the magic shall lose its power, when the changed oneshall come back again; and yet he, all the time, be able only to presenthimself by quiet prayers, mild looks, and affectionate care! Probablyotherwise he never might have come back again. I say _great purity ofvision_, because the true friend never loses sight of the heavenly imageof his friend; but sees it through every veil of casualty, even when itis concealed from all, nay, even from the faulty one's self! He hasfaith in it; he loves it; he lives for it, and says, "Wait! havepatience! it will go over, and then he (or she) comes back again!" Andwhoever has such a friend, comes back indeed!

So stood the quiet, affectionate Leonore on the side of her alteredsister. 

All this time Henrik was beneficial to his whole family, and appeared tohave regained all his former amiable animation, in order therewith toeradicate every disturbing sensation from the bosom of home. Heaccompanied his family, more than he had ever done before, into society, and had always a watchful eye on his sister and the Major. 

Before long the Major declared himself, and asked for Eva's hand. Herparents had prepared themselves for this event, and had decided on theirline of conduct. They intended not to make their child unhappy by adecided negative to the wishes of her heart; but they had determined todemand a year of trial both from her and her lover, during which timethey should have no intercourse with each other, should exchange noletters, and should consider themselves as free from every mutualobligation; and that then again after this interval of time, if theytwo, the Major and Eva, still wished it, the question of their unionmight again he brought forward. This middle path had been proposed byElise, who, through a progressively inward, and more perfect fulfilmentof duties, had acquired an ever-increasing power over her husband, andthus induced him to accede to it, at the same time that she endeavouredto infuse into him the hope which she herself cherished, namely, eitherthat Eva, during the time of probation, would discover the unworthinessof the Major, and won over by the wishes and the tenderness of herfamily, would conquer her love, or, on the other hand, that the Major, ennobled by love and constant to her, would become worthy of her. It wasone of the most favourite and cherished axioms of the Judge, that everyman had the power of improving himself, and he willingly conceded thatfor this end there existed no more powerful means than a virtuous love. 

The Judge now talked energetically yet tenderly with his daughter;explained clearly to her the terms of this connexion, without concealingfrom her how bitter to him had been, and still was, the thought of thisunion, and appealed to her own sense and reason whether too much hadbeen required in this prescribed time of trial. 

Eva shed many tears; but deeply affected by the goodness of her parents, consented to their wishes, and promised, though not without pain, tofulfil them. The Judge wrote to the Major, who had made his declarationby letter, a candid and noble, but by no means sugared, answer; whereinhe required from him, as a man of honour, that he should by no meanswhatever induce Eva to swerve from the promises which she had made toher parents, and by this means disturb her hitherto so happy connexionwith her own family. This letter, which the father allowed his daughterto read, and which occasioned her fresh tears, whilst she in vainendeavoured to persuade him to remove expressions which she consideredtoo severe, but which he, on the contrary, considered too mild, wasdespatched the same day, and all was again quieter. 

Probably Eva would strictly have adhered to the wishes of her parents, which they endeavoured to make pleasant to her by much kindness, had nota letter from the Major been conveyed to her on the next evening, whichquite excited and unhinged her again. He complained violently therein ofher father's unreasonableness, injustice, and tyranny; and spoke, in themost passionate terms, of his love, of his unbounded sufferings, and ofhis despair. The consequence of this letter was that Eva was ill--butmore so, however, in mind than body, and that she demanded to have aninterview with Assessor Munter. 

The friend and physician of the house came immediately to her. 

"Do you love me?" was Eva's first question when they were alone. 

"Do I love you, Eva?" answered he, and looked at her with an expressionof eye which must have moved any heart to tenderness that had beenotherwise occupied than hers was. 

"If you love me, if you desire that I should not be really ill, "continued Eva, speaking with quickness and great warmth, "you mustconvey this letter to Major R----, and bring his answer back into myhands. My father is set against him, everybody is set against him;nobody knows him as well as I do! I am in a state of mind which willdrive me to despair, if you have not compassion on me! But you must bemy friend in secret. --You will not? If you love me you must take thisletter and----"

"Desire all things from me, Eva, " interrupted he, "but not this! andprecisely because you are so dear to me. This man in fact is not worthyof you; he does not deserve----"

"Not a word about him!" interrupted Eva, with warmth: "I know him betterthan you all--_I_ alone know him; but you all are his enemies, andenemies to my happiness. Once again I pray you--pray you with tears! Isit then so much that I desire from you? My benefactor, my friend, willyou not grant this prayer of your Eva?"

"Let me speak with your father, " said he. 

"On this subject? No, no! impossible!" exclaimed she. 

"Then, Eva, I must refuse your prayer. It gives me more pain than I canexpress to refuse you anything in this world; but I will not stain myhand in this affair. I will not be a means of your unhappiness. Farewell!"

"Stop, stop, " cried Eva, "and hear me! What is it that you fear for me?"

"Everything from a man of R----'s character. "

"You mistake him, and you mistake me, " returned she. 

"I know him, and I know you, " said he, "and on that account I wouldrather go into fire than convey letters between him and you. This is mylast word. "

"You will not!" exclaimed she; "then you love me not, and I have not afriend in this world!"

"Eva, Eva, do not say so! you sin against yourself. You know not--askeverything from me--ask my life--ah, through you, life has already lostits worth for me!--ask----"

"Empty words!" interrupted Eva, and turned impatiently away. "I desirenothing more from you, Assessor Munter! Pardon me that I have given youso much trouble!"

Munter looked at her for some moments in silence, laid his hand hastilyon his heart as if he had a violent pain there, and went out more bowedthan commonly. 

Not long after this, an unexpected ray of light gladdened the painfulcondition of affairs between Eva and her family. She was calmer. TheMajor removed from the city into the country, to pass the Christmas witha relation of his there; and on the same day Eva came down into thelibrary at the customary hour of tea, after she had passed several daysin her own room. Every one received her with joy. Her father wenttowards her with open arms, called her sweet names, placed her on thesofa by her mother, and took her tea to her himself: a lover could nothave been more tender or more attentive to her. One might see that Evawas not indifferent to these marks of affection, and that yet she didnot receive them altogether with joy. A burning red alternated withpaleness on her cheek, and at times it seemed that a tear, a repentanttear, filled her eyes. 

From this time, however, the old state of feeling, and the old quiet, returned in part to the bosom of the family. Nobody named the Major; andas, when spring-time comes, the grass grows and the leaves burst forth, although the heaven is yet dark, and many a northern blast yet lingersin the air, so did affectionate feelings and joyful hours spring upagain in the family of the Franks, from the spontaneous vernal spiritwhich reigned there. 

You might have seen the mother there, like the heart of the family, taking part in all that went forward, making every one so cheerful andcomfortable, as she moved about here and there, so rich in grace and joyand consolation! Wherever she came, there came with her a somethingpleasant or animating, either in word or deed; and yet all this time shewas very far from being herself calm. Care for her daughter wasaccompanied by anxiety on account of Henrik's prospects and happiness. She understood, better than any one else, his feelings, his wishes, andhis thoughts; and on this account glances of friendly understanding wereoften exchanged between them, and from this cause also was it that onthose days on which the post came in from Stockholm, she became palerand paler the nearer post-time came--for it perhaps might bring with itimportant news for Henrik. 

"My dear Elise, " said the Judge, jesting affectionately, "to whatpurpose is all this unquiet, this incomprehensible anxiety? I grant thatit would be a happiness to us all, and a piece of good luck, if Henrikcould obtain the solicited situation--but if he do not get it--well, what then?--he can get another in a little while. He is yet a mereyoungster, and can very well wait for some years. And his poem--supposeit should now and never more be regarded as a masterpiece, and shouldnot obtain the prize--now, in heaven's name! what does it matter? Hewould perhaps, from the very circumstance of his having less fortune asa poet, be only the more practical man, and I confess that would notmortify me. And I shall wish both the poem and the appointment at theplace where pepper grows if you are to become pale and nervous on itsaccount! Promise me now next post-day to be reasonable, and not to looklike the waning moon, else I promise you that I shall be downrightangry, and will keep the whole post-bag to myself!"

To his children the father spoke thus: "Have you really neither geniusnor spirit of invention enough to divert and occupy your mother on theunfortunate post-day? Henrik, it depends upon you whether she be calm ornot; and if you do not convince her that, let your luck in the world bewhatever it may, you can bear it like a man, I must tell you that youhave not deserved all the tenderness which she has shown you!"

Henrik coloured deeply, and the Judge continued: "And you, Gabriele! Ishall never call you my clever girl again, if you do not make a riddleagainst the next post-day which shall so occupy your mother that sheshall forget all the rest!"

The following post-day was an exceedingly merry one. Never before hadmore interesting topics of conversation been brought forward by Henrik;never before had the mother been so completely seduced into thediscussions of the young people. At the very moment when the post-hourarrived she was deeply busied in solving a riddle, which Henrik andGabriele endeavoured to make only the more intricate by their fun andjokes, whilst they were pretending to assist her in the discovery. 

The riddle ran as follows:

 Raging war and tumult Am I never nigh; And from rain and tempest To far woods I fly. In cold, worldly bosoms My deep grave is made; And from conflagration Death has me affrayed. No one e'er can find me In the dungeon glooms; I have no abiding, Save where freedom blooms. My morning sun ariseth, Light o'er mind to fling; O'er love's throbbing bosom Rests my downy wing! Like our Lord in heaven, I am ever there And like him of children Have I daily care. What though I may sever From thee now and then, I forget thee never---- I come back again! In the morning's brightness, Dear one, if thou miss me, With the sunset's crimson Come I back and kiss thee!

This riddle, which it must be confessed was by no means one ofGabriele's best, gave rise to a fund of amusement, and occasioned themaddest propositions on Henrik's part. The mother, however, did notallow herself to be misled; but exclaimed, whilst she laughinglyendeavoured to overpower the voices of her joking children, "The riddle is----"

What the riddle was, the reader may see by the title of our nextchapter. 

CHAPTER V. 

HAPPINESS. 

"Happiness!" repeated the Judge, as he entered the room at the samemoment, with letters and newspapers in his hand. 

"I fancy you have been busying yourselves here with prophesyings, " saidhe: "Gabriele, my child, you shall have your reward for it--read thisaloud to your mother!" laying a newspaper before her. 

Gabriele began to read--but threw the paper hastily down, gave a springfor joy, clapped her hands, and exclaimed, "Henrik's poetry has won the highest prize!"

"And here, Henrik, " said the father, "are letters--you are nominatedto----" The voice of the Judge was drowned in the general outbreak ofjoy. Henrik lay in the arms of his mother, surrounded by his sisters, who, amid all their jubilation, had tearful eyes. 

The Judge walked up and down the room with long strides; at length hepaused before the happy group, and exclaimed, "Nay, only see! let me also have a little bit! Elise--my thanks to theethat thou hast given him to me--and thou boy, come here--I must tellthee----" but not one word could he tell him. 

The father, speechless from inward emotion, embraced his son, andreturned in the same manner the affectionate demonstrations of hisdaughters. 

Many private letters from Stockholm contained flattering words andjoyful congratulations to the young poet. All Henrik's friends seemed toaccord in one song of triumph. 

There was almost too much happiness for one time. 

During the first moments of this news the joy was calm and mingled withemotion; afterwards, however, it was lively, and shot forth like rocketsin a thousand directions. Every thing was in motion to celebrate the dayand its hero; and while the father of the family set about to mix abowl--for he would that the whole house should drink Henrik'shealth--the others laid plans for a journey to Stockholm. The wholefamily must be witnesses of Henrik's receiving the great goldmedal--they must be present on the day of his triumph. Eva recoveredalmost her entire liveliness as she described a similar festival whichshe had witnessed in the Swedish Academy. 

Henrik talked a deal about Stockholm; he longed to be able to show hismother and sisters the beautiful capital. How they would be delightedwith the gallery of mineralogy--how they would be charmed with thetheatres! how they would see and hear the lovely Demoiselle Högquist andthe captivating Jenny Lind![17]--and then the castle!--thepromenades--the prospects--the churches--the beautiful statues in thepublic places--Henrik would have been almost ready to have overthrownsome of them. Oh, there was so much that was beautiful and delightful tosee in Stockholm!

The mother smiled in joy over----the occasion of the journey toStockholm; the father said "yes" to that and every thing; thecountenances of the young people beamed forth happiness; the bowl wasfragrant with good luck. 

The young Baron L. , who liked Henrik extremely, and who liked still moreevery lively excitement to every uproar, was possessed by a regularfrenzy to celebrate the day. He waltzed with everybody; Louise might notsit still; "the little lady" must allow herself to be twirled about; butthe truth was that in her joy she was about as wild for dancing as hewas himself--the very Judge himself must waltz with him; and at last hewaltzed with chairs and tables, whilst the fire of the punch was notvery much calculated to abate his vivacious spirits. 

It was very hard for the Judge that he was compelled on this very day toleave home, but pressing business obliged him to do so. He must make ajourney that same evening, which would detain him from home for three orfour days, and although he left his family in the full bloom of theirjoy and prosperity, the short separation appeared to him more painfulthan common. 

After he had taken his leave he returned--a circumstance very unusualwith him--to the room again; embraced his wife yet a second time, flourished about with his daughters in his wolf's-skin cloak as if outof liveliness, and then went out hastily, giving to the young Baron, who, in his wild joy, had fallen upon his wolf's-skin like a dog, atolerably heavy cuff. A few minutes afterwards, as he cast from hissledge a glance and a hand-greeting to his wife and daughters at thelibrary window, they saw with astonishment that his eyes were full oftears. 

But the joy of the present, and the promises of the future, filled thehearts of those who remained behind to overflowing, and the eveningpassed amid gaiety and pleasure. 

Baron L. Drank punch with the domestics till both he and they were quitewrong in the head, and all Louise's good moral preaching was like somany water-drops on the fire. Henrik was nobly gay, and the beamingexpression of his animated, beautiful head, reminded the beholder of anApollo. 

"Where now are all your gloomy forebodings?" whispered Leonore, tenderlyjoyful; "you look to me as if you could even embrace Stjernhök. "

"The whole world!" returned Henrik, clasping his sister to his breast, "I am so happy!"

And yet there was one person in the house who was happier than Henrik, and that was his mother. When she looked on the beautiful, glorifiedcountenance of her son, and thought of that which he was and on what hewould become; when she thought on the laurels which would engarland hisbeloved head, on the future which awaited her favourite, her summerchild--Oh! then bloomed the high summer of maternal joy in her breast, and she revelled in a nameless happiness--a happiness so great that shewas almost anxious, because it appeared to her too great to be borne onearth!

And yet for all that--and we say it with grateful joy--the earth canbear a great degree of happiness; can bear it for long without itseither bringing with it a curse or a disappointment. It is in stillnessand in retirement where this good fortune blooms the best, and on thataccount the world knows little of it, and has little faith in it. But, thank God! it may be abundantly found in all times and in all countries;and it is--we whisper this to the blessed ones in order that we mayrejoice with them--it is of extremely rare occurrence when it happens inactual life, as, for the sake of effect, it happens in books, that astrong current of happiness carries along with it unhappiness as in adrag-rope. 

FOOTNOTES:

[17] Emilie Högquist and Jenny Lind are two great ornaments of theStockholm theatre; the first an actress, the second a singer. 

CHAPTER VI. 

UNHAPPINESS. 

Night succeeded the joyful evening, and the members of the Frank familylay deep in the arms of sleep, when suddenly, at the hour of midnight, they were awoke by the fearful cry of "Fire! fire!"

The house was on fire, and smoke and flames met them at every turn; forthe conflagration spread with incredible speed. An inconceivableconfusion succeeded: one sought for another; one called on another;mother and children, inmates and domestics!

Only half-dressed, and without having saved the least thing, theinhabitants of the house assembled themselves in the market-place, wherean innumerable crowd of people streamed together, and began to work thefire-engines; whilst church bells tolled violently, and the alarm-drumswere beaten wildly and dully up and down the streets. Henrik draggedwith him the young Baron L----, who was speechless, and much injured bythe fire. 

The mother cast a wild searching look around among her children, andsuddenly exclaiming "Gabriele!" threw herself with a thrilling cry ofanguish into the burning house. A circle of people hastily surroundedthe daughters, in order to prevent their following her, and at the samemoment two men broke forth from them, and hastened with the speed oflightning after her. The one was her beautiful, now more than everbeautiful, son. The other resembled one of the Cyclops, as art hasrepresented them at work in their subterranean smithies, excepting thathe had two eyes, which in this moment flashed forth flames, as ifbidding defiance to those with which he was about to combat. Bothvanished amid the conflagration. 

A moment's silence ensued: the alarm-drum ceased to beat; the peoplescarcely breathed; the daughters wrung their hands silently, and thefire-bell called anxiously to the ineffectual engine-showers, for theflames rose higher and higher. 

All at once a shout was sent from the mass of the people; all heartsbeat joyfully, for the mother was borne in the arms of her son from amidthe flames, which stretched forth their hissing tongues towardsher!--and--now another shout of exultation! The modern Cyclop, in oneword the Assessor, stood in a window of the second story, and, amid thewhirlwind of smoke, was seen a white form, which he pressed to hisbosom. A ladder was quickly raised, and Jeremias Munter, blackened andsinged, but nevertheless happy, laid the fainting but unhurt Gabriele inthe arms of her mother and sisters. 

After this, he and Henrik returned to the burning house, from which theywere fortunate enough to save the desk containing the Judge's mostvaluable papers. A few trifles, but of no great importance, were alsosaved. But this was all. The house was of wood, and spite of everyeffort to save it, was burned, burned, burned to the ground, but, as itstood detached, without communicating the fire to any other. 

When Henrik, enfeebled with his exertions, returned to his family, hefound them all quartered in the small dwelling of the Assessor, whichalso lay in the market-place; while Jeremias seemed suddenly to havemultiplied himself into ten persons, in order to provide his guests withwhatever they required. His old housekeeper, what with the fire, andwhat with so many guests who were to be provided for in thatsimply-supplied establishment, was almost crazed. But he had help athand for everybody: he prepared coffee, he made beds, and seemedaltogether to forget his own somewhat severe personal injuries by thefire. He joked about himself and his affairs at the same time that hewiped tears from his eyes, which he could not but shed over themisfortunes of his friends. Affectionate and determined, he provided foreverything and for every one; whilst Louise and Leonore assisted himwith quiet resolution. 

"Wilt thou be reasonable, coffee-pot, and not boil over like asimpleton, since thou hast to provide coffee for ladies!" said theAssessor in jesting anger. "Here, Miss Leonore, are drops for the motherand Eva. Sister Louise, be so good as to take my whole storeroom inhand; and you, young sir, " said he to Henrik, as he seized him suddenlyby the arm, and gazed sharply into his face, "come you with me, for Imust take you rather particularly in hand. "

There was indeed not a moment to lose; a violent effusion of blood fromthe chest, placed the young man's life in momentary danger. Munter toreoff his coat, and opened a vein at the very moment in which he lost allconsciousness. 

"What a silly fellow!" said the Assessor, as Henrik breathed again, "howcan anybody be so silly when he is such--a clever fellow! Nay, now alldanger for the time is over. Death has been playing his jokes with usto-night! Now, like polite knights, let us be again in attendance on theladies. Wait, I must just have a little water for my face, that I neednot look, any more than is necessary, like 'the Knight of the RuefulCountenance!'"

CHAPTER VII. 

THE CONSEQUENCES. 

The sun of the next morning shone brightly on the glisteningsnow-covered roofs round the market-place, and dyed the smoke-clouds, which rose slowly from the ruins of the burnt-down house, with the mostgorgeous tints of purple, gold, and sulphur-blue, whilst hundreds oflittle sparrows raked and picked about in the ashy flakes which werescattered over the snow in the market-place and churchyard, withexulting twitterings. 

Mother and daughters looked with tearful eyes towards the smoking placewhere had so lately stood their dearly beloved home; but yet no one gavethemselves up to sorrow. Eva alone wept much, but that from a cause ofgrief concealed in her own heart. She knew that Major R. Had passed thenight in the city, and yet for all that--she had not seen him!

With the morning came much bustle, and a crowd of people into thedwelling of the Assessor. Families came who offered to the rooflesshousehold both shelter and entertainment; young girls came with theirclothes; servants came with theirs for the servants of the family;elegant services and furniture were sent in; the baker left greatbaskets full of bread; the brewer, beer; another sent wine, and so on. It was a scene in social life of the most beautiful description, andwhich showed how greatly esteemed and beloved the Franks were. 

Mrs. Gunilla came so good and zealous, ready to contend with anybody whowould contend with her, to convey her old friends in her carriage to thedwelling which she had prepared for them in all haste. The Assessor didnot strive with her now, but saw in silence his guests depart, and witha tear in his eye looked after the carriage which conveyed Eva away fromhis house. It seemed now so dark and desolate to him. 

On the evening of this same day the father returned into his familycircle, and pressed them all to his breast with tears of joy. Yes, withtears of joy, for all were left to him!

A few days after this, he wrote thus to one of his friends:

"Till now, till after this unfortunate occurrence, I knew not how much Ipossessed in my wife and children; knew not that I had so many goodfriends and neighbours. I thank God, who has given me such a wife, suchchildren, and such friends! These last have supplied, nay, over-suppliedall the necessities of my family. I shall begin in spring to rebuild myhouse on the old foundation. 

"How the fire was occasioned I know not, and do not trouble myself todiscover. The misfortune has happened, and may serve as a warning forthe future, and that is enough. My house has not become impoverished inlove, even though it may be so in worldly goods, and that sustains andheals all. The Lord hath given and the Lord hath taken away: blessed bethe name of the Lord!"

Probably the Judge would listen to no conjectures respecting the originof the fire. We will venture, however, not the less on that account togive our conjectures;--thus, it is very probable that the fire had itsorigin in the chamber of the young Baron L. , and that also he, in hisscarcely half sober state, might have been the occasion of it. Probablyhe himself regarded the affair in this light; but this however iscertain, that this event, in connexion with the behaviour of the Frankstowards him, occasioned a great change in the temper and character ofthis young man. His father came for him shortly after this, and took himto consult a celebrated oculist in Copenhagen, in consequence of hiseyes having suffered severely in the fire. 

Our eyes will see him again, only at a much later period of our history. 

The daughters of the house busied themselves earnestly with thealready-spoken-of plans for discovering a means of independentsubsistence for themselves, that they might lighten the anxieties oftheir parents in their present adverse circumstances, and that withoutbeing burdensome to anybody else. Eva wished at first to accept aninvitation to a country-seat in the neighbourhood, not far from thatwhere Major R. Was at present. Axelholm opened itself, heart, arms, main-building and wings, for the members of the Frank family. There werewanting no opportunities for colonisation; but the Judge besought hischildren so earnestly to decline all these, and for the present toremain altogether. 

"In a few months, " said he, "perhaps in spring, you can do what youlike; but now--let us remain together. It is needful to me to have younow all around me, in order to feel that I really possess you all. Icannot bear the thoughts of losing any one of you at present. "

The thought of parting appeared likewise soon to weigh heavily upon him. Henrik, since the night of the conflagration, had scarcely had a momentfree from suffering; a violent, incessant beating of the heart hadremained since then, and the pain of this was accompanied by dangerousattacks of spasms, which, notwithstanding all remedies, appeared ratherto increase than otherwise. This disturbed the Judge so much the more, as now, more than ever, he loved and valued his son. Since the night ofthe fire it might be said that, for the first time, affection was warmbetween father and son. 

The Mahomedan says beautifully, that when the angel of death approachesman, the shadow of his wings falls upon him from a distance. From thebeginning of his illness Henrik's soul appeared to be darkened byunfriendly shadows, and the first serious outbreak of disease revealeditself in depression and gloom. Oh! it was not easy for the young man, richly gifted as he was with whatever could beautify life on earth, standing as he did at the commencement of a path where fresh laurels andthe roses of love beckoned to him, it was not easy to turn his glancefrom a future like this, to listen to the words which night and day hisbeating heart whispered to him--"Thou wilt descend to thy grave! norwill I cease knocking till the door of the tomb opens to thee!"

But to a mind like Henrik's the step from darkness to light was notwide. There was that something in his soul which enables man to say tothe Lord of life and death--

 The dreaded judgment-doom in thine own hand is writ, -- We kiss it; bow our heads, and silently submit. 

Henrik had one day a long conversation with his skilful and anxiousphysician Munter, who when he left him had tears in his eyes; but overHenrik's countenance, on the contrary, when he returned to his family, although he was paler than usual, was a peculiarly mild and solemnrepose, which seemed to diffuse itself through his whole being. Fromthis moment his temper of mind was changed. He was now mild and calm, yet at the same time more joyous and amiable than ever. His eyes had anindescribable clearness and beauty; the shadow had passed away from hissoul altogether. 

But deeper and deeper lay the shadow over one person, who from thebeginning of Henrik's illness was no longer like herself--and that wasHenrik's mother. It is true that she worked and spoke as formerly, but agnawing anguish lived in her; she appeared absent from the passingbusiness of life; and every occupation which had not reference, in someway or other, to her son, was indifferent or painful to her. Thedaughters kept carefully from her any thing which might be disturbing toher. She devoted herself almost exclusively to her son; and many hoursfull of rich enjoyment were spent by these two, who soon, perhaps--mustseparate for so long!

Every strong mental excitement was interdicted to Henrik; his veryillness would not admit of it. He must renounce his beloved studies: buthis living spirit, which could not sleep, refreshed itself at theyouthful fountains of art. He occupied himself much with the works of apoet who, during his short life, had suffered much and sung much also, and from amid whose crown of thorns the loveliest "Lilies of Sharon" hadblossomed. The works of Stagnelius[18] were his favourite reading. Hehimself composed many songs, and his mother sang them to him during thelong winter evenings. According to his opinion, his mother sang betterthan his sisters; and he rejoiced himself in the pure strength whichtriumphantly exalted him in this poet above the anguish and fever oflife. 

It was observed that about this time he often turned the conversation, in the presence of his mother, to the brighter side of death. It seemedas if he wished to prepare her gradually for the possibly nearseparation, and to deprive it beforehand of its bitterness. Elise hadformerly loved conversations of this kind; had loved whatever tended todiffuse light over the darker scenes of life: but now she always grewpale when the subject was introduced; uneasiness expressed itself in hereyes, and she endeavoured, with a kind of terror, to put an end to it. 

One evening as the family, together with the Assessor, were assembled inthe confidential hour of twilight, they began to speak about dreams, andabout the nature of sleep. Henrik mentioned the ancient comparison ofsleep and death, which he said he considered less striking as regardedits unconsciousness than in its resemblance in the awaking. 

"And in what do you especially consider this resemblance to consist?"asked Leonore. 

"In the perfect retention and re-animation of consciousness, of memory, of the whole condition of the soul, " replied he, "which is experiencedin the morning after the dark night. "

"Good, " said the Assessor, "and possible; but what can we _know_ aboutit?"

"All that revelation has made known to us, " replied Henrik, with ananimated look: "do we really need any stronger light on this subjectthan that afforded us by one of our own race, who was dead, and yet roseagain from the grave, and who exhibited himself after his sleep in thedark dwelling with precisely the same dispositions, the samefriendships, and with the most perfect remembrance of the least as wellas the greatest events of his earthly existence? What a clear, what afriendly light has not this circumstance diffused around the dark gatesof the tomb! It has united the two worlds! it has thrown a bridge overthe gloomy deep; it enables the drooping wanderer to approach it withouthorror; it enables him to say to his friends on the evening of life, 'Good night!' with the same calmness with which he can speak those wordsto them on the evening of the day. "

An arm was thrown convulsively round Henrik, and the voice of his motherwhispered, in a tone of despair, to him, "You must not leave us, Henrik!you must not!" and with these words she sunk unconscious on his breast. 

From this evening Henrik never again introduced in the presence of hismother a subject which was so painful to her. He sought rather to calmand cheer her, and his sisters helped him truly in the same work. Theynow had less desire than ever to leave home and to mingle in societygenerally; yet notwithstanding they did so occasionally, because theirbrother wished it, and it enabled them to have something to tell athome, which could entertain and enliven both him and his mother. Thesereports were generally made in Henrik's room, and how heartily did theynot laugh there! Ah! in a cordially united family, care can hardly takefirm footing there: if it come in for one moment, in the very next itwill be chased away! Eva appeared during this time to forget her owntrouble, that she also might be a flower in the garland of comfort andtenderness which was bound around the favourite of the family; the Judgetoo, tore himself more frequently than hitherto from his occupations, and united himself to the family circle. 

A more attractive sick chamber than Henrik's can hardly be imagined. That he himself felt. Enfeebled by the influence of disease, hisbeautiful eyes often became filled with tears from slight causes, and hewould exclaim "I am happy--too happy! What a blessedness to be able tolive! That is happiness! that is the summer of the soul! Even now, amidmy sufferings, I feel myself made through you so rich, so happy!" andthen he would stretch forth his hand to those of his mother or hissisters, and press them to his lips or his bosom. 

An interval of amendment occurred in Henrik's illness, and he sufferedmuch less. A sentiment of joy diffused itself through the house, andHenrik himself appeared at times to entertain hopes of life. He couldnow go out again and inhale the fresh winter air--his favourite air. TheJudge often accompanied him; it was then beautiful to see the powerfulvigorous father supporting with his arm the pale but handsome son, whenever his steps became weary; to see him curbing his own peculiarlyhasty movements, and conducting him slowly homewards; it was beautifulto see the expression in the countenance of each. 

People talk a great deal about the beauty of maternal love--paternallove has perhaps something yet more beautiful and affecting in it; andit is my opinion that he who has had the happiness of experiencing thecareful culture of a loving, yet at the same time upright father, can, with fuller feeling and with more inward understanding than any other, lift his heart to heaven in that universal prayer of the human race, "Our Father which art in heaven!"

Several weeks passed on. A lady, an intimate friend of the family, wasabout this time undertaking a journey with her daughter to the citywhere Petrea was visiting, and desired greatly to take Gabriele withher, who was the dearest friend of the young Amalie. Gabriele would verygladly have embraced this opportunity of visiting her beloved sister, and of seeing at the same time something of the world, but now whenHenrik was ill, she could not think of it; she was quite resolved not toseparate herself from him. But Henrik was zealously bent upon Gabrielemaking this journey, which would be so extremely agreeable to her. 

"Don't you see, " said he, "that Gabriele sits here and makes herselfpale with looking at me? and that is so utterly unnecessary, especiallynow I am so much better, and when I certainly in a little time shall bequite well again. Journey, journey away, sweet Gabriele, I beseech you!You shall cheer us in the mean time with your letters; and when atEaster you return with Petrea, then--then you will no longer have anailing suffering brother; I will manage it so that I will be quite wellby that time!"

She was talked to also on other sides, especially by the young, livelyAmalie, and at length Gabriele permitted herself to be persuaded. Convinced that for the present all danger for her brother was over, shecommenced the journey with a jest on her lips, but with tears in hereyes. 

It was the first flight of "our little lady" from home. 

Not a word was heard from Major R. ; and although Eva continued reservedtowards her own family, she appeared to be so much calmer than formerlythat they all began to be easy on her account. The Judge, who, inconsequence of her behaviour evinced towards her a grateful tenderness, endeavoured to gratify her slightest wishes, and gave his consent thatin the early commencement of spring she should go to M----s. He hopedthat by that time the Major would be far removed from the country; butit was not long before a painful discovery was made. 

 * * * * *

On a dark evening at the beginning of March, two persons stood in deepbut low discourse under a tree in St. Mary's churchyard. 

"How childish you are, Eva!" said the one, "with your fears and yourdoubts! and how pusillanimous is your love. If you would learn, lovelyangel! how true love speaks, listen to me:--

 "Pourquoi fit on l'amour, si son pouvoir n'affronte, Et la vie et la mort, et la haine et la honte! Je ne demande, je ne veux pas savoir Si rien a de ton coeur terni le pur miroir: Je t'aime! tu le sais! Que l'importe tout le reste?"

"Oh Victor, " answered the trembling voice of Eva, "my fault is not thehaving too little love for you. Ah, I feel indeed, and I evince it by myconduct, that my love to you is greater than my love for father andmother and sisters, more than for all the world! And yet I know that itis wrong! my heart raises itself against me--but I cannot resist yourpower. "

"On that account am I called Victor, my angel, " said he; "heaven itselfhas sanctioned my power. And _your_ Victor am I also, my sweet Eva; isit not so?"

"Ah! only too much so, " sighed Eva. "But now, Victor, spare my weakness;do not desire to see me again till I go in spring in a month's time toM----s. Do not demand----"

"Demand no such promises from Victor, Eva, " said he; "he will not bindhimself so! but you--you must do what your Victor wills, else he cannotbelieve that you love him. What--you will refuse to take a few steps inorder to gladden his eyes and his heart--in order to see and to hearhim--in truth you do not love him!"

"Ah, I love you, I adore you, " returned Eva; "I could endure anything onyour account--even the pangs of my own conscience; but my parents, mybrother and sisters! ah, you know not what it costs me to deceive them!they are so good, so excellent; and I! Yet sometimes the love which Ihave for them contends with the love which I have for you. Do not stringthe bow too tightly, Victor! And now--farewell, beloved, farewell! In amonth's time you will see me, your Eva, again, in M----s. "

"Stop!" said he, "do you think you are to leave me in that way? Where ismy ring?"

"On my heart, " returned she, "day and night it rests there--farewell!ah, let me go!"

"Say once more that you love me above every thing in this world!" saidhe, "that you belong only to me!"

"Only to you! farewell!" and with these words Eva tore herself away fromhim, and hastened with flying feet, like one terrified, across thechurchyard. The Major followed her slowly. A dark form stepped at thatmoment hastily forward, as if it had arisen from one of the graves, andmet the Major face to face. It seemed to him as if a cold wind passedthrough his heart, for the form tall and silent, and at that dark hour, and in the churchyard, had something in it ominous and spectre-like, andas it had evidently advanced to him with design, he paused suddenly, andasked, sharply, "Who are you?"

"Eva's father!" replied a suppressed but powerful voice, and by theup-flaring light of a lamp which the wind drove towards them, the Majorsaw the eyes of the Judge riveted upon him with a wrathful andthreatening expression. His heart sank for a moment; but in the next hesaid, with all his accustomed haughty levity:

"Now there is no necessity for me to watch longer after her;" and sosaying he turned hastily aside, and vanished in the darkness. 

The Judge followed his daughter without nearing her. When he came home, such a deep and painful grief lay on his brow as had never been observedthere before. 

For the first time in his life the powerful head of the Judge seemedactually bowed. 

 * * * * *

At this time Stjernhök came to the city quite unexpectedly. He had heardof the misfortune which had befallen the Franks, as well as of the partwhich Henrik acted on this occasion, and of the illness which was theconsequence of it, and he came now in order to see him before hetravelled abroad. This visit, which had occasioned Stjernhök to divergeas much as sixty English miles out of his way, surprised and deeplyaffected Henrik, who as he entered the room met him with the most candidexpression of cordial devotion. Stjernhök seized his outstretched hand, and a sudden paleness overspread his manly countenance as he remarkedthe change which a few weeks' illness had made in Henrik's appearance. 

"It is very kind of you to come to me--my thanks for it, Stjernhök!"said Henrik from his heart; "otherwise, " continued he, "you wouldprobably have seen me no more in this world; and I have wished so muchto say one word to you before we separated thus. "

Both were silent for some minutes. 

"What would you say to me, Henrik?" at length asked Stjernhök, whilst anextraordinary emotion was depicted in his countenance. 

"I would thank you, " returned Henrik, cordially, "thank you for yourseverity towards me, and tell you how sincerely I now acknowledge it tohave been just, and wholesome for me also. I would thank you, because bythat means you have been a more real friend, and I am now perfectlyconvinced how honestly and well you have acted towards me. Thisimpression, this remembrance of our acquaintance, is the only one whichI will take away with me when I leave this world. You have not been ableto love me, but that was my own fault. I have sorrowed over theknowledge of that, but now I have submitted to it. In the mean time itwould be very pleasant to me to know that my faults--that my latebehaviour towards you, had not left behind it too repulsive animpression; it would be very pleasant for me to believe that you wereable to think kindly of me when I am no more!"

A deep crimson flamed on Stjernhök's countenance, and his eyes glistenedas he replied, "Henrik, I feel more than ever in this moment that I havenot shown justice towards you. Several later circumstances have openedmy eyes, and now--Henrik, can you give me your friendship! mine you havefor ever!"

"Oh, this is a happy moment!" said Henrik, with increasing emotion;"through my whole life I have longed for it, and now for the first timeit is given me--now when--but God be praised even for this!"

"But why, " said Stjernhök, warmly, "why speak so positively about yourdeath? I will hope and believe that your condition is not so dangerous. Let me consult a celebrated foreign physician on your case--or betterstill, make the journey with me, and put yourself under the care of Dr. K----. He is celebrated for his treatment of diseases of the heart; letme conduct you to him; certainly you can and will recover!"

Henrik shook his head mournfully. "There lies his work, " said he, pointing to an open book in the window, "and from it I know allconcerning my own condition. Do you see, Nils Gabriel, " continued he, with a beautiful smile, as he placed his arm on the shoulder of hisfriend, and pointed with his other towards heaven, gazing on him thewhile with eyes which seemed larger than ever--for towards death theeyes increase in size and brilliancy--"do you see, " said he, "therewanders your star. It ascends! for certain a bright path lies beforeyou; but when it beams upon your renown it will look down upon my grave!I have no doubt whatever on this point. Some time ago this thought wasbitter to me; it is so now no more! When the knowledge depresses me thatI have accomplished so very little on earth, I will endeavour to consolemyself with the conviction that you will be able to do so much more, andthat either in this world or the next I shall rejoice over yourusefulness and your happiness!"

Stjernhök answered not a word; large tears rolled down his cheeks, andhe pressed Henrik warmly to his breast. 

On Henrik's account he endeavoured to give the conversation a calmerturn, but the heart of his poor friend swelled high, and it was now toofull of life and feeling to find rest in anything but the communicationof these. 

The connexion between the two young men seemed now different to what ithad ever been before. It was Henrik who now led the conversation, andStjernhök who followed him, and listened to him with attention and themost unequivocal sympathy, whilst the young man gave such free scope tohis thoughts and presentiments as he had never ventured to do before inthe presence of the severe critic. But the truth is, there belongs to adweller on the borders of the kingdom of death a peculiar rank, apeculiar dignity, and man believes that the whispering of spirits fromthe mysterious land reaches the ear which bows itself to them; on thisaccount the wise and the strong of earth listen silently like disciples, and piously like little children, to the precepts which are breathedforth from dying lips. 

The entrance of the Judge gave another turn to the conversation, whichStjernhök soon led to Henrik's last works. He directed his discourseprincipally to the Judge, and spoke of them with all the ability of areal connoisseur, and with such entire and cordial praise as surprisedHenrik as much as it cheered him. 

It is a very great pleasure to hear oneself praised, and well praisedtoo, by a person whom one highly esteems, and particularly when, at thesame time, this person is commonly niggardly of his praise. Henrikexperienced at that moment this feeling in its highest degree; and thispleasure was accompanied by the yet greater pleasure of seeing himselfunderstood, and in such a manner by Stjernhök as made himself more clearto himself. In this moment he seemed, now for the first time, tocomprehend in a perfectly intelligible manner his own talents, and whathe wished to do, and what he was able to do. The fountain of lifeswelled forth strongly in his breast. 

"You make me well again, Nils Gabriel!" exclaimed he; "you give me newlife. I will recover; recover in order again to live, in order to workbetter and more confidently than I have hitherto done. As yet I havedone nothing; but now, now I could--I feel new life in me--I have neveryet felt myself so well as now! Certainly I shall now recover, orindeed--is the best wine reserved for me till the last?"

The evening sped on agreeably, and with animation in the family circle. The blessed angels of heaven were not more beautiful or more joyous thanHenrik. He joked with his mother and sisters, nay, even with Stjernhök, in the gayest manner, and was one of the liveliest who partook of thecitron-soufflé which Louise served up for supper, and which she herselfhad helped to prepare, and of which she was not a little proud. Yes, indeed, she was almost ready to believe that it was this which had givennew life to Henrik, and the power of which she considered to bewonderfully operative. But ah!----

At the very moment when Henrik jested with Louise on this very subject, he was seized by the most violent suffering. 

This suffering continued interruptedly for three days, and deprived thesick young man of consciousness; whilst it seemed to be leading himquickly to that bound which mercy has set to human sufferings. On thesecond day after this paroxysm Henrik was seized with that desire forchange of resting-place which may be commonly regarded as the sign thatthe soul is preparing for its great change of abode. The Judge himselfbore his son in his arms from room to room, and from bed to bed. Nosleep visited the eyes of his family during these terrible days; whilsthis mother, with eyes tearless and full of anguish riveted upon her son, followed him from room to room, and from bed to bed; now hanging overhis pillow, now seated at the foot of his bed, and smiling tenderly uponhim when he appeared to know her, and articulating his name in a low andalmost inaudible voice. 

On the evening of the third day the poor youth regained hisconsciousness. He recognised his family again, and spoke kindly to them. He saw that they were pale and weary, and besought them incessantly togo to rest. The Assessor, who was present, united earnestly in thisrequest, and assured them that, according to all appearances, Henrikwould now enjoy an easy sleep, and that he himself would watch by himthrough the night. The father and daughters retired to rest; but whenthey endeavoured to persuade the mother, she only waved with her hand, whilst a mournful smile seemed to say, "It is of no use whatever to talkto me about it. "

"I may remain with you, Henrik?" said she, beseechingly. 

He smiled, took her hand, and laid it on his breast; and in the samemoment closing his eyes, a calm refreshing sleep stole over him. TheAssessor sate silently beside them, and observed them both: it was notlong, however, before he was obliged to leave them, being summonedsuddenly to some one who was dangerously ill. He left them with thepromise to return in the course of the night. Munter was called in thecity the night-physician, because there was no one like him who appearedearnestly willing to give his help by night as by day. 

The mother breathed deeply when she saw herself alone with her son. Shefolded her hands, and raised her eyes to heaven with an expression whichthrough the whole of the foregoing days had been foreign to them. It wasno longer restless, almost murmuring anxiety; it was a mournful, yet atthe same time, deep, perfect, nay, almost loving resignation. She bentover her son, and spoke in a low voice out of the depths of heraffectionate heart. 

"Go, my sweet boy, go! I will no longer hold thee back, since it ispainful to thee! May the deliverer come! Thy mother will no longercontend with him to retain thee! May he come as a friendly angel andmake an end of thy sufferings! I--will then be satisfied! Go then, myfirst-born, my summer-child; go, and if there may never more come asummer to the heart of thy mother--still go! that thou mayst have rest!Did I make thy cradle sweet, my child! so would I not embitter by mylamentations thy death-bed! Blessed be thou! Blessed be He also who gavethee to me, and who now takes thee from me to a better home! Some time, my son, I shall come home to thee; go thou beforehand, my child! Thouart weary, so weary! Thy last wandering was heavy to thee; now thou wiltrest. Come thou good deliverer, come thou beloved death, and give restto his heart; but easily, easily. Let him not suffer more--let him notendure more. Never did he give care to his parents----"

At this moment Henrik opened his eyes, and fixed them calmly and full ofexpression on his mother. 

"Thank God!" said he, "I feel no more pain. "

"Thanks and praise be given to God, my child!" said she. 

Mother and son looked on each other with deep and cheerful love! theyunderstood each other perfectly. 

"When I am no more, " said he, with a faint and broken voice, "then--tellit to Gabriele, prudently; she has such tender feelings--and she is notstrong. Do not tell it to her on a day--when it is cold anddull--but--on a day--when the sun shines warm--when all things lookbright and kindly--then, then tell her--that I am gone away--and greether--and tell her from me--that it is not difficult--to die!--that thereis a sun on the other side----"

He ceased, but with a loving smile on his lips, and his eyes closedtheir lids as if from very weariness. 

Presently afterwards he spoke again, but in a very low voice. "Sing mesomething, mother, " said he, "I shall then sleep more calmly, 'Theyknock! I come!'"

These words were the beginning of a song which Henrik had himselfwritten, and set to music some time before, during a night of suffering. 

The genius of poetry seemed to have deserted him during the latter partof his illness; this was painful to him; but his mind remained the same, and the spirit of poetry lived still in the hymn which his mother now, at his request, sang in a trembling voice:

 They knock! I come! yet ere on the way To the night of the grave I am pressing, Thou Angel of Death, give me yet one lay-- One hymn of thanksgiving and blessing. 

 Have thanks, O Father! in heaven high, For thy gift, all gifts exceeding; For life! and that grieved or glad I could fly To thee, nor find thee unheeding. 

 Oh thanks for life, and thanks too for death, The bound of all trouble and sighing; How bitter! yet sweet 't is to yield our breath When thine is the heart of the dying!

 By our path of trial thou plantest still Thy lilies of consolation; But the loveliest of all--to do thy will-- Be it done in resignation!

 Farewell, lovely earth, on whose bosom I lay; Farewell, all ye dear ones, mourning; Farewell, and forgive all the faults of my day: My heart now in death is burning!

"It is burning!" repeated Henrik in a voice of suffering. "It isterrible! Mother! Mother!" said he, looking for her with a restlessglance. 

"Your mother is here!" said she, bending over him. 

"Ah! then all is right!" said he again, calmly. "Sing, my mother, " addedhe, again closing his eyes--"I am weary. "

She sang--

 We part! but in parting our steps we bend Alone towards that glorious morrow, Where friend no more shall part from friend, Where none knoweth heart-ache or sorrow!

 Farewell! all is dark to my failing sight, Your loved forms from my faint gaze rending, 'T is dark, but oh!--far beyond the night I see light o'er the darkness ascending!

"Oh! if you only knew how serene it is! It is divine!" said the dyingone, as he stretched forth his arms, and then dropped them again. 

A change passed over the countenance of the young man; death had touchedhis heart gently, and its pulsations ceased. At the same moment awonderful inspiration animated the mother; her eyes beamed brightly, andnever before had her voice had so beautiful, so clear a tone as whilstshe sang

 Thou callest, O Father! with glad accord I come!--Ye dear ones we sever!-- Now the pang is past!--now behold I the Lord-- Praise be thine, O Eternal, for ever!

Judge Frank was awoke out of his uneasy sleep by the song, whose toneseemed to have a something supernatural in it. A few moments passedbefore he could convince himself that the voice which he heard wasreally that of his wife. 

He hastened with indescribable anxiety to the sick room; Elise yet sangthe last verse as he entered, and casting his eyes on her countenance, he exclaimed "My God!" and clasped his hands together. 

The song ceased: a dreadful consciousness thrust itself like a swordthrough the heart of the mother. She saw before her the corpse of herson, and with a faint cry of horror she sank, as if lifeless, upon thebed of death. 

FOOTNOTES:

[18] Eric Stagnelius, who was born in 1793, and died in 1823, would havebeen, it is probable, had a longer life been granted to him, one of themost distinguished poets of the age. His poems, epic, dramatic, andlyric, fill three volumes. "Liljor i Saron"--Lilies of Sharon, is thegeneral title of his lyrics. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

ELISE TO CECILIA. 

 _Two months later. _

"When I last wrote to you, my Cecilia, it was winter. Winter, severe icywinter, had also gathered itself about my heart--my life's joy waswrapped in his winding-sheet, and it seemed to me as if no more springcould bloom, no more life could exist; and that I should never againhave the heart to write a cheerful or hopeful word. And now--now it isspring! The lark sings again the ascension-song of the earth; the Maysun diffuses his warming beams through my chamber, and the grass becomesalready green upon the grave of my first-born, my favourite! And I----OhLord! thou who smitest, thou also healest, and I will praise thee! forevery affliction which thou sendest becomes good if it be only receivedwith patience. And if thou concealest thyself for a season--as itappears to our weak vision--thou revealest thyself yet soon again, kinder and more glorious than before! For a little while and we see theenot, and again for a little while and we see thee, and our heartsrejoice and drink strength and enjoyment out of the cup which thou, Almighty One! fillest eternally. Yes, every thing in life becomes good, if that life be only spent in God!

"But in those dark wintry hours it was often gloomy and tumultuouswithin me. Ah, Cecilia, I would not that he should die! He was my onlyson, my first-born child. I suffered most at his birth; I sang mostbeside his cradle; my heart leapt up first and highest with maternal joyat his childish play. He was my summer child, born in the midsummer ofnature and of my life and my strength, and then--he was so full of life, so beautiful and good! No, I would not that he should die, or that mybeautiful son should be laid in the black earth! And as the time drewnearer and nearer, and I saw that it must be--then it was dark in me. But the last night--Oh, it was a most wonderful night!--then it wasotherwise. Do you know, Cecilia, that I sung gaily, triumphantly, by thedeath-bed of my first-born! Now I cannot comprehend it. But thisnight--he had during the foregoing day suffered much, and hissufferings had reconciled me to his death. They abated as deathapproached, and he besought of me, as he had often done in the years ofhis childhood, to sing him to sleep. I sang--I was able to sing. Hereceived pleasure from the song, which increased in power, and with aheavenly smile, whilst heavenly pictures seemed to float before hiseyes, he said, 'Ah, it is divine!' and I sang better and ever clearer. Isaw his eyes change themselves, his breath become suspended, and I knewthat then was the moment of separation between soul and body--between meand him! but I did not then feel it, and I sang on. It seemed to me asif the song sustained the spirit and raised it to heaven. In that momentI was happy; for even I, as well as he, was exalted above every earthlypain. 

"The exclamation of my name awoke me from my blessed dream, and I sawthe dead body of my son--after this I saw nothing more. 

"There was a long, deep stupor. When I recovered consciousness, I felt aheart beating against my temples. I raised my eyes and saw my husband;my head was resting on his breast, and with the tenderest words he wascalling me back to life. My daughters stood around me weeping, andkissing my hands and my clothes. I also wept, and then I felt better. Itwas then morning, and the dawn came into my chamber. I threw my armsaround my husband's neck, and said, 'Ernst, love me! I willendeavour----'

"I could say no more, but he understood me, thanked me warmly, andpressed me close to his bosom. 

"I did endeavour to be calm, and with God's help I succeeded. Forseveral hours of the day I lay still on my bed. Eva, whose voice isremarkably sweet, read aloud to me. I arose for tea, and endeavoured tobe as usual; my husband and my daughters supported me, and all was peaceand love. 

"But when the day was ended, and Ernst and I were alone in our chamber, a fear of the night, of bed, and a sleepless pillow, seized hold of me;I, therefore, seated myself on the sofa, and prayed Ernst to read to me, for I longed for the consolations of the Gospel. He seated himself by meand read; but the words, although spoken by his manly, firm voice, passed at this time impressionless over my inward sense. I understoodnothing, and all within me was dark and vacant. All at once some oneknocked softly at the door, and Ernst, not a little astonished, said, 'Come in;' the door was opened, and Eva entered. She was very pale, andappeared excited; but yet at the same time firm and determined. Sheapproached us softly, and sinking down on her knees between us, took ourhands between hers. I would have raised her, but Ernst held me back, andsaid, mildly but gravely, 'Let her alone!'

"'My father, my mother!' said Eva, with tremulous voice, 'I have givenyou uneasiness--pardon me! I have grieved you--I will not do it again. Ah! I will not now lay a stone on your burden. See, how disobedient Ihave been--this ring, and these letters, I have received against yourwill and against my promises from Major R. I will now send them back. See here! read what I have written to him. Our acquaintance is for everbroken! Pardon me, that I have chosen these hours to busy you with myaffairs, but I feared my own weakness when the force of this hour shallhave passed. Oh, my parents! I feel, I know, that he is not worthy to beyour son! But I have been as it were bewitched--I have loved him beyondmeasure;--ah, I love him still--nay, do not weep, mother! You shallnever again shed a tear of grief over me--you have wept already enoughon my account. Since Henrik's death every thing in me is changed. Fearnothing more for me; I will conquer this, and will become your obedient, your happy child. Only require not from me that I should give my hand toanother--never will I marry, never belong to another! But for you, myparents, will I live; I will love you, and with you be happy! Here, myfather, take this, and send it back to him whom I will no more see!And--Oh, love me! Love me!'

"Tears bedewed the face which she bowed down to her father's knee. Neverhad she looked so lovely, so attractive! Ernst was greatly affected; helaid his hand as if in blessing upon her head, which he raised, andsaid:

"'When you were born, Eva, you lay long as if dead; in my arms you firstopened your eyes to the light, and I thanked God. But I thank himmanifold more for you in this moment, in which I see in you the joy andblessing of our age--in which you have been able to combat with your ownheart, and to do that which is right! God bless you! God reward you!'

"He held her for a long time to his bosom, and his tears wetted herforehead. I also clasped her in my arms, and let her feel my love and mygratitude, and then, with a look which beamed through tears, she leftus. 

"We called her 'our blessed child' at that time, for she had blessed uswith a great consolation. She had raised again our sunken hearts. 

"Ernst went to the window and looked silently into the star-lightednight; I followed him, and my glance accompanied his, which in thismoment was so beautiful and bright, and laying his arm around me hespoke thus, as if to himself:

"'It is good! It is so intended--and that is the essential thing! He isgone! What more? We must all go; all, sooner or later. He might notperfect his work; but he stood ready, ready in will and ability when hewas called to the higher work-place! Lord and Master, thou hast takenthe disciple to thyself. Well for him that he was ready! That is themost important for us all!'

"Ernst's words and state of mind produced great effect upon me. Peacereturned to my spirit. In the stillness of the night I did not sleep, but I rested on his bosom. It was calm around me and in me. And in thesecret of my soul I wished that it might ever remain so, that no moreday might dawn upon me, and no more sun shine upon my weary, painfuleyes. 

"How the days creep on! On occasions of great grief it always appears asif time stood still. All things appear to stand still, or slowly andpainfully to roll on, in dark circles; but it is not so! Hours and daysgo on in an interminable chain; they rise and sink like the waves of thesea; and carry along with them the vessel of our life: carry it from theislands of joy it is true, but carry it also away from the rocky shoresof grief. Hours came for me in which no consolation would appease myheart, in which I in vain combated with myself, and said--'Now I willread, and then pray, and then sleep!' But yet anguish would not leaveme, but followed me still, when I read; prevented me from prayer, andchased away sleep; yes, many such hours have been, but they too aregone; some such may perhaps come yet, but I know also that they too willgo. The tenderness of my husband and of my children--the peace ofhome--the many pleasures within it--the relief of tears--the eternalconsolation of the Eternal Word--all these have refreshed andstrengthened my soul. It is now much, much better. And then--he diedpure and spotless, the youth with the clear glance and the warm heart!He stood, as his father said, ready to go into the higher world. Oh!more than ever have I acknowledged, in the midst of my deep pain, thatthere is pain more bitter than this; for many a living son is a greatergrief to his mother than mine--the good one there, under the greenmound!

"We have planted fir-trees and poplars around the grave, and often willit be decorated with fresh flowers. No dark grief abides by the grave ofthe friendly youth. --Henrik's sisters mourn for him deep andstill--perhaps Gabriele mourns him most of all. One sees it not by day, for she is generally gay as formerly; a little song, a gay jest, alittle adornment of the house, all goes on just as before to enliven thespirits of her parents. But in the night, when all rest in their beds, she is heard weeping, often so painfully--it is a dew of love on thegrave of her brother; but then every morning is the eye again bright andsmiling. 

"On the first tidings of our loss Jacobi hastened to us. He took fromErnst and me, in this time of heavy grief, all care upon himself, andwas to us as the tenderest of sons. Alas! he was obliged very soon toleave us, but the occasion for this was the most joyful. He is about tobe nominated to the living of T----; and his promotion, which puts himin the condition soon to marry, affords him also a respectable income, and a sphere of action agreeable to his wishes and accordant with hisabilities, and altogether makes him unspeakably happy. Louise also looksforward towards this union and establishment for life with quietsatisfaction, and that, I believe, as much on account of her family asfor herself. 

"The family affection appears, through the late misfortune, to havereceived a new accession: my daughters are more amiable than ever intheir quiet care to sweeten the lives of their parents. Mrs. Gunilla hasbeen like a mother to me and mine during this time; and many dearevidences of sympathy, from several of the best and noblest in Sweden, have been given to Henrik's parents;--the young poet's pure glory hasbrightened their house of mourning. 'It is beautiful to have died as hehas died, ' says our good Assessor, who does not very readily find anything beautiful in this world. 

"And I, Cecilia, should I shut my heart against so many occasions forjoy and gratitude, and sit with my sorrow in darkness? Oh no! I willgladden the human circle in which I live; I will open my heart to thegospel of life and of nature; I will seize hold on the moments, and thegood which they bring. No friendly glance, no spring-breeze, shall passover me unenjoyed or unacknowledged; out of every flower will I suck adrop of honey, and out of every passing hour a drop of eternal life. 

"And then--I know it truly--be my life's day longer or shorter, bear ita joyful or a gloomy colour, The day will never endure so long But at length the evening cometh. 

The evening in which I may go home--home to my son, my summer-child! Andthen--Oh then shall I perhaps acknowledge the truth of that propheticword which has so often animated my soul: 'For behold I create newheavens and a new earth; and the former shall not be remembered nor comeinto mind. But be ye glad and rejoice for ever in that which I create. '

"I have wept much whilst I have written this, but my heart has peace. Itis now late. I will creep in to my Ernst, and I feel that I shall sleepcalmly by his side. 

"Good-night, my Cecilia. "

CHAPTER IX. 

NEW ADVERSITIES. 

It was afternoon. The sisters were busily quilting Louise's bridalbed-cover; because at the end of May, as was determined in the familycouncil, that she was to be married. The coverlet was of green silk, anda broad wreath of leafy oak branches formed its border. This pattern hadoccasioned a great deal of care and deliberation; but now, also, whatjoy did it not give rise to, and what ever-enduring admiration of thetasteful, the distinguished, the indescribably good effect which itproduced, especially when seen from one side! Gabriele, to be sure, would have made sundry little objections relative to the connexion ofthe leaves, but Louise would not allow that there was any weight inthem: "The border, " said she, "is altogether charming!"

Gabriele had placed a full-blown monthly rose in the light locks of thebride, and had arranged with peculiar grace, around the plaited hair atthe back of her head, the green rose-leaves like a garland. The effectwas lovely, as at this time the sun-light fell upon her head, and hercountenance had more than ordinary charm; the cheeks a high colour; theeyes a clearer blue, as they were often raised from the greenrose-wreath and directed towards the window. Jacobi, the new pastor, wasexpected that evening. 

Gabriele went up to her mother, and besought her to notice how wellLouise looked, and the rose, how becoming it was to her! The motherkissed her, but forgot to notice Louise in looking at the lovely face of"the little lady. "

The industrious up-and-down picking of the needles accompanied thejoyful conversation of the sisters. 

Now they talked about the management of the living; now about theschool; now about milk, and now about cheese. They settled abouthousehold matters; about mealtimes; the arrangement of the table, andsuch like. In many things Louise intended to follow the example of home;in others, she should do differently. "People must advance with theage. " She intended that there should be great hospitality in theparsonage-house--that was Jacobi's pleasure. Some one of her own familyshe hoped to have always with her;--an especial wing should be built forbeloved guests. She would go every Sunday to church, to hear her husbandpreach or sing the service. If the old wives came to the parsonage witheggs, or other little presents, they should always be well entertained, and encouraged to come again. All sick people should be regaled withLouise's elixir, and all misdoers should be more or less reproved byher. She would encourage all, to the very best of her power, to read, tobe industrious, to go to church, and to plant trees. Every Sundayseveral worthy peasants should be invited with their wives to dine atthe parsonage. If the ladies of the Captain and the Steward came tovisit her, the coffee-pot should be immediately set on, and thecard-table prepared. Every young peasant girl should live in service awhole year at the parsonage before she was married, in order to learnhow to work, and how to behave herself. --N. B. This would be wagesenough for her. At all marriages the Pastor and his wife would always bepresent, the same at christenings; they would extend their hand insponsorship over the youth, that all might grow up in good-breeding andthe fear of God. At Midsummer and in harvest-time there should be adance, and great merry-making at the parsonage for the people--butwithout brandy;--for the rest, nothing should be wanting:

 None she forgets, the mistress of the feast, The beer flows free, the bunch of keys it jingles, And, without pause, goes on the stormy dance!

Work should be found for all beggars at the parsonage, and then food;for lazy vagabonds a passing lecture, and then--march! And thus, bydegrees, would preparation be made for the Golden Age. 

Ah! Ruin to the golden plans and to the golden age which they planned!Two letters which were delivered to Louise put a sudden end to them all!One of the letters was from Jacobi, was very short, and said only thatthe parsonage was quite gone from him; but that Louise would not blamehim on that account, as soon as she understood the whole affair. 

 "I long for you inexpressibly, " continued Jacobi, "but I must postpone my arrival in X. In order to pay my respects to his Excellency O----, who is detained in P. From an attack of gout, which seized him on his journey from Copenhagen to Stockholm. But by the 6th of May I hope certainly to be with you. I have new plans, and I long to lay down all my feelings and all my thoughts on your true breast. My Louise! I will no longer wait and seek. Since fortune perpetually runs out of my way, I will now take a leap and catch it, and in so doing trust in heaven, in you, and lastly also--in myself. But you must give me your hand. If you will do that, beloved, I shall soon be much happier than now, and eternally, "Your tenderly devoted, "J. Jacobi. "

The other letter was from an unknown hand--evidently a woman's hand, andwas as follows:

"Do not hate me, although I have stood in the way of your happiness. Donot hate me--for I bless you and the noble man with whom you have unitedyour fate. He is my benefactor, and the benefactor of my husband and mychildren. Oh, these children whose future he has made sure, they willnow call on heaven to give a double measure of happiness to him and youfor that which he has so nobly renounced. The object of my writing is toobtain your forgiveness, and to pour forth the feelings of a gratefulheart to those who can best reward my benefactor. Will you be pleased onthis account to listen to the short, but uninteresting relation of acondition, which, at the same time, is as common as it is mournful?

"Perhaps Mr. Jacobi may at some time or other have mentioned my husbandto you. He was for several years Jacobi's teacher, and each was muchattached to the other. My husband held the office of schoolmaster in W. , with honour, for twenty years. His small income, misfortunes which befelus, a quick succession of children, made our condition more oppressivefrom year to year, and increased the debt which from the very time whenwe settled down first we were obliged to incur. My husband sought aftera pastoral cure, but he could have recourse to none of those arts whichare now so almost universally helpful, and which often conduct thehunter after fortune, and the mean-spirited, rather than the deserving, to the gaol of their wishes; he was too simple for that, too modest, andperhaps also too proud. 

"During the long course of years he had seen his just hopes deceived, and from year to year the condition of his family become more and moremelancholy. Sickness had diminished his ability to work, and the fear ofnot being able to pay his debts gnawed into his health, which was notstrong, and the prospect--of his nine unprovided-for children! I know Ishould deeply affect your heart, if I were to paint to you the pictureof this family contending with want; but my tears would blot my writing. Jacobi can do it--he has seen it, he has understood it; for this picturewhich I have so carefully concealed from every other eye--this pale, family misery I revealed to him, for I was in despair!

"The name of my husband stood on the list of candidates for the livingof T----. He had three-fold the legally-demanded requisites of Jacobi, and was, over and above, known and beloved by the parish; all thepeasants capable of voting, openly declared their intention of choosinghim. Two great landed proprietors, however, had the ultimate decision:Count D. , and Mr. B. The proprietor of the mines, could, if they twowere agreed, they two alone, elect the pastor. They also acknowledgedthe esteem in which they held my husband, and declared themselveswilling to unite in the general choice. 

"For the first time in many years did we venture to look up to abrighter future. Presently, however, we learnt that a powerful patron ofMr. Jacobi had turned the whole scale in his favour, and that it wouldbe soon decided; the two great proprietors had promised their votes tohim, and our condition was more hopeless than ever. 

"The day of nomination approached. I did not venture to speak with mystrictly conscientious husband of the design which I cherished. I hadheard much said of Jacobi's excellent character; I was a distracted wifeand mother. I sought out Jacobi, and spoke to him out of the depths ofmy heart, spoke to his sense of right--to his sense of honour; I showedhim how the affair stood for us before he disturbed it, by means whichcould not be justly called honourable. I feared that my words werebitter, but all the more angel-like was it in Jacobi to hear me withcalmness. I pictured to him our present condition; told him how he mightsave us from misery, and besought him to do it. 

"My prayer at first was almost wild, and in the beginning Jacobi seemedalmost to think it so, but he heard me out; he let me conduct him to thehouse of his former teacher, saw the consuming anxiety depicted on hispale emaciated countenance; saw that I had exaggerated nothing; he wept, pressed my hand with a word of consolation, and went out hastily. 

"The day of nomination came. Jacobi renounced all claims. My husband waselected to the living in T----. Good God! how it sounded in our ears andin our hearts! For a long time we could not believe it. After fifteenyears of deceived hopes we hardly dared to believe in such happiness. Ilonged to embrace the knees of my benefactor, but he was already fardistant from us. A few friendly lines came from him, which reconciled myhusband to his happiness, and Jacobi's renunciation, and which made themeasure of his noble behaviour full. I have not yet been able to thankhim; but you, his amiable bride, say to him----"

We omit the outpourings which closed this letter; they proceeded from awarm, noble heart, overflowing with happiness and gratitude. 

The needles fell from the fingers of the sisters as the mother, atLouise's request, read this letter aloud, and astonishment, sympathy, and a kind of admiring pleasure might be read in their looks. They allgazed one on the other with silent and tearful eyes. 

Gabriele was the first who broke silence: "So, then, we shall keep ourLouise with us yet longer, " said she gaily, while she embraced her; andall united cordially in the idea. 

"But, " sighed Leonore, "it is rather a pity, on account of our weddingand our parsonage; we had got all so beautifully arranged. "

Louise shed a few quiet tears, but evidently not merely over thedisappointed expectation. Later in the evening the mother talked withher, and endeavoured to discover what were her feelings under theseadverse circumstances. 

Louise replied, with all her customary candour, that at first it hadfallen very heavily upon her. "I had now, " continued she, "fixed mythoughts so much on an early union with Jacobi; I saw so much in my newcondition which would be good and joyful for us all. But though this isnow--and perhaps for ever, at an end, yet I do not exactly know if Iwish it otherwise; Jacobi has behaved so right, so nobly right, I feelthat I now prize him higher, and love him more than ever!"

It was difficult to the Judge not to be more cheerful than common thisevening. He was inexpressibly affectionate towards his eldest daughter;he was charmed with the way in which she bore her fate, and it seemed tohim as if she had grown considerably. 

On the following day they quietly went on again with the quilting of thebed-cover, whilst Gabriele read aloud; and thus "the childhood of EricMenved" diverted with its refreshing magic power all thoughts from theparsonage and its lost paradise to the rich middle age of Denmark, andto its young king Eric. 

CHAPTER X. 

NEW VIEWS AND NEW SCHEMES. 

Jacobi was come: Gabriele complained jestingly to her mother, "that thebrother-in-law-elect had almost overturned her, the littlesister-in-law-elect, in order to fly to his Louise. "

Louise received Jacobi with more than customary cordiality; so did thewhole family. That which Jacobi had lost in worldly wealth he seemed tohave won in the esteem and love of his friends; and it was the secretdesire of all to indemnify him, as it were, for the loss of theparsonage. Jacobi on this subject had also his own peculiar views; andafter he had refreshed himself both with the earthly and the "angels'food, " which Louise served up to him in abundance, and after he had hada conference of probably three hours' length with her, the result of thesame was laid before the parents, who looked on the new views thusopened to them not without surprise and disquiet. 

It was Jacobi's wish and intention now immediately to celebrate hismarriage with Louise, and afterwards to go to Stockholm, where hethought of commencing a school for boys. To those who knew that allJacobi's savings amounted to a very inconsiderable capital; that hisyearly income was only fifty crowns; that he had displeased his onlyinfluential patron; that his bride brought him no dowry; and thus, thathe had nothing on which to calculate excepting his own ability towork--to all those then who knew thus much, this sudden establishmenthad some resemblance to one of those romances with their "_diner de mancoeur, et souper de mon âme_, " which is considered in our days to beso infinitely insipid. 

But Jacobi, who had already arranged and well considered his plans, laidthem with decision and candour before the parents, and besought theirconsent that he might as soon as possible be able to call Louise hiswife. Elise gasped for breath; the Judge made sundry objections, but forevery one of these Jacobi had a reasonable and well-devised refutation. 

"Are Jacobi's plans yours also, Louise?" asked the Judge, after amomentary silence; "are you both agreed?"

Louise and Jacobi extended a hand to each other; looked on each other, and then on the father, with tearful, yet with calm and assured eyes. 

"You are no longer children, " continued the father; "you know what youare undertaking. But have you well considered?"

Both assented that they had. Already, before there had been anyexpectation of the living, they had thought on this plan. 

"It is a fatiguing life that you are stepping into, " continued theJudge, seriously, "and not the least so for you, Louise. The result ofyour husband's undertaking will depend for the greatest part on you. Will you joyfully, and without complaint, endure that which it willbring with it; will you, from your heart, take part in his day's work?"

"Yes, that I will!" replied Louise, with entire and hearty confidence. 

"And you, Jacobi, " continued he, with unsteady voice, "will you befather and mother and sisters to her? Will you promise me that sheneither now, nor in the future, so far as in you lies, shall miss thepaternal home?"

"God help me! so certainly as I will exert myself to effect it, sheshall not!" answered Jacobi with emotion, and gave his hand to theJudge. 

"Go then, children, " exclaimed he, "and ask the blessing of yourmother--mine you shall have, " and with tearful eyes he clasped them inhis arms. 

Elise followed the example of her husband. She felt now that Louise andJacobi's firm devotion to each other; their willingness to work; andtheir characters, so excellent, and beyond this, so well suited to eachother, were more secure pledges of happiness than the greatest worldlytreasure. With respect to the time of the marriage, however, she madeserious objections. All that the parents could give to their daughterwas a tolerably handsome outfit; and this could not, by any possibility, be so speedily prepared. Louise took her mother's view of the question, and Jacobi saw himself, although reluctantly, compelled to agree that itshould remain as at first arranged, namely, for the second day inWhitsuntide, which, in this year, fell at the end of May. 

After this the betrothed hastened to the sisters to communicate to themthe new views and schemes. There was many an "Oh!" and "Ah!" ofastonishment; many a cordial embrace; and then, of course, what industryin the oak-leaf garland!

But as the mother at the usual time came in, she saw plainly that "thelittle lady" was somewhat impatient towards the brother-in-law-elect, and but little edified by his plans. 

From that kind of sympathy which exists between minds, even when not asingle word is spoken, especially between persons who are dear to eachother, the dissatisfaction of Gabriele took possession also of themother, who began to discover that Jacobi's plans were more and moreidle and dangerous. Thus when Jacobi, not long afterwards, sought tohave a _tęte-ā-tęte_ with her, in order to talk about his and Louise'splans, she could not help saying that the more she thought about theundertaking the more foolish did it appear to be. 

To which Jacobi answered gaily, "Heaven is the guardian of all fools!"

Elise recollected at that moment how it had fared with a person withwhom she was acquainted, who hoped for this guardianship in anundertaking that in most respects resembled Jacobi's, yet nothing hadprevented all his affairs from going wrong altogether, and at lengthending in bankruptcy and misery. Elise related this to Jacobi. 

"Have you not read, mother, " replied he, "a wise observation whichstands at the end of a certain medical work?"

"No, " said she; "what observation is it?"

"That what cured the shoemaker killed the tailor, " said Jacobi. 

Elise could not help laughing, and called him a conceited shoemaker. Jacobi laughed too, kissed Elise's hand, and then hastened to mingle inthe group of young people, who assembled themselves round the tea-tableto see and to pass judgment on an extraordinary kind of tea-breadwherewith Louise would welcome her bridegroom, and which, according toher opinion, besides the freshest freshness, was possessed of manywonderful qualities. 

Whilst at tea, the mother whispered slyly into Louise's ear as Jacobiput sugar into his tea, "My dear child, there will be a deal of sugarused in your house--your husband will not be frugal. "

Louise whispered back again, "But he will not grumble because too muchsugar is used in the house. So let him take it then, let him take it!"

Both laughed. 

Later in the evening, as the mother saw Jacobi dance the gallopade withLouise and Gabriele, whilst he made all happy with his joy, and his eyesbeamed with life and goodness, she thought to herself--even virtue hasher carelessness; and she was well satisfied with his plans. 

One day Jacobi related the particulars of his audience with hisExcellency O----, at P. , to Louise and her mother; his relation was asfollows:

"When I came up into the saloon the Bishop N. Was coming backwards, withlow bows, out of the chamber of his Excellency. Within, a powerful voicewas heard speaking polite and jocular words, and immediately afterwardshis Excellency himself, with his foot wrapped in a woollen sock, accompanied the Bishop out. The lofty figure, clothed now in adark-green morning coat, seemed to me more imposing than ever. He swunga stick in his hand, upon which a grey parrot was sitting, which, whileit strove to maintain its balance, screamed with all its might after theBishop, 'Adieu to thee! adieu to thee!'

"The sunshine which was diffused over the expressive countenance of hisExcellency as he came out of his room, vanished the moment he saw me (Ihad already informed him by letter of the use I had made of hisgoodness), and a severe repulsive glance was the only greeting which Ireceived. When the Bishop at length, accompanied by the partingsalutations of the parrot, had left, his Excellency motioned theservants out, and riveted upon me his strong, bright, grey eyes, andwith an actually oppressive look inquired short and sharp, 'What wantyou, Sir?'

"I had never seen him behave thus to me before, and whilst I endeavouredto overcome a really choking sensation, I answered, 'I would thank yourExcellency for the goodness which--'

"'Which you have thrown away as if it were a very trifle, ' interruptedhis Excellency. 'You must have a confounded many livings at command, Ithink. You can, perhaps, throw such away on all sides. '

"He spoke these words in a hard, ironical tone. I conjured him to hearme, and laid before him shortly, but with the utmost clearness, thereasons which had compelled me to give up the good fortune which hisfavour had procured for me. I concluded by saying, that the onlyconsolation which I had for my loss, and the danger of having displeasedmy benefactor, was the feeling that I had done my duty, and actedaccording to my conscience, and the persuasion that I had acted right. 

"'You have acted like a fool!' interrupted his Excellency, withviolence, 'like a regular bedlamite have you behaved yourself! Thingslike this, Sir, may do in novels, but in actual life they serve to noother purpose than to make their actors and all that belong to thembeggars. But you have unpardonably compromised me! The thousand! youshould have thought over all these things and these feelings before youhad obtained my recommendation! Can I know of all supplicants withpoverty, merits, and nine children? On your account in this business Ihave written letters, given dinners, made fine speeches, paidcompliments, in order to silence other claimants. I obtained for youthat living, one of the best in the whole bishoprick, and now you havegiven it away as if it were a----It is really too bad! Don't come anymore to me, and don't mix me up again in your concerns, that I say toyou! I shall for the future meddle in nothing of the kind. Don't you askme ever again for anything!'

"I was wounded, but still more distressed than wounded, and said, 'Theonly thing which I shall ask from you, and shall ask for till I obtainit, is the forgiveness of your Excellency! My error in this affair wasgreat; but after I had seen it, there was nothing for me to do but toretrieve it as well as lay in my power, and then to bear theconsequences, even though they be as bitter as I now find them. Neveragain shall I make any claim to your goodness--you have already donemore than enough for me. My intention is now to try if I cannot maintainmyself by my own powers as teacher. I intend to establish a school forboys in Stockholm, whither I shall travel as soon as----'

"'Attempt, and travel, and do whatever you like!' interrupted hisExcellency, 'I don't trouble myself about it. I have occupied myself inyour affairs for the last time! If I were to get for you ten livings, you would give all away the next moment to the first, best poor devilthat prayed you for them, with his full complement of wife and tenchildren!

"'Lundholm, wash me the glass! I never drink out of a glass from which aBishop has drunk!'

"His Excellency had already turned his back upon me, and went again intohis chamber cursing his gout, without the slightest parting word to me. The parrot, however, on the contrary, turned itself about on the stick, and cried out with all its might, 'Adieu to thee! adieu to thee!'

"With this greeting, perhaps the last in the house of his Excellency, Iretired; but not without, I must confess, stopping a few moments on thesteps, and wetting the stones with my tears. It was not the loss of apowerful patron which gave me so much pain, but--I had so admired thisman, I had loved him with such an actual devotion; I looked up to him asto one of the noblest and most distinguished of men. He also seemedreally to like me--at least I thought so; and now all at once he was sochanged, so stern towards me, and as it seemed to me so unreasonable. Itactually gave me pain to find so little that was noble in him, so littlethat was just! These were my feelings in those first bitter moments. When I came to think over the whole event more calmly, I could almostbelieve that he had received beforehand an unjust representation of thewhole affair, and that I encountered him while under its influence. Overand above, he had reason to be dissatisfied with the whole thing, andthen just at that moment a fit of the gout seized him! I have written tohim from this place, and I feel it impossible to give up the hope ofseeing his sentiments mollified towards me. "

Louise, however, did not think so favourably of his sentiments; thoughtJacobi quite too indulgent, and was altogether irritated against hisExcellency. 

"It is quite the best not to trouble oneself about him, " said she. 

Jacobi smiled. "His poor Excellency!" said he. 

CHAPTER XI. 

A RELAPSE. 

Whilst May wrote its romance in leaves and life; whilst Jacobi andLouise wrote many sweet chapters of theirs in kisses; whilst all thehouse was in motion on account of the marriage, and joy and mirth sprangup to life like butterflies in the spring sun, one glance was everdarker, one cheek ever paler, and that was Eva's. 

People say commonly that love is a game for the man, and alife's-business for the woman. If there be truth in this, it may arisefrom this cause, that practical life makes commonly too great a demandon the thoughts and activity of the man for him to have much time tospend on love, whilst on the contrary the woman is too much occupiedwith herself to have the power of withdrawing herself from the pangs oflove (may the Chamberlain's lady forgive us talking so much about manand woman! It has not been our lot here in the world to scour either aroom or a kettle, though, to speak the truth, we do not considerourselves incapable of so doing). Eva found nothing in her peaceful homewhich was powerful enough to abstract her from the thoughts and feelingswhich for so long had been the dearest to her heart. The warm breezes ofspring, so full of love, fanned up that glimmering fire; so did alsothat innocent life of the betrothed, so full of cordiality andhappiness; so did also a yet more poisonous wind. One piece of newswhich this spring brought was the betrothal of Major R. With one of thebeauties of the capital, a former rival of Eva--news which caused a deepwound to her heart. She wished to conceal, she wished to veil what wasyet remaining of a love which no one had favoured, and over which shecould not now do other than blush; she had determined never again toburden and grieve her family with her weakness, her sorrows; she wouldnot disturb the peace, the cheerfulness, which now again began to reignin the family after the misfortunes which had shaken it; but under theendeavour to bear her burden alone, her not strong spirit gave way. Shewithdrew more and more from the family circle; became ever more silentand reserved; sought for solitude, and was unwilling to have hersolitude disturbed by any one. She even was reserved before Leonore;although she, like a good angel, stood by her side, resting her softeyes upon her with a tender disquiet, endeavouring to remove from herevery annoyance, taking upon herself every painful occupation, andevincing towards her all that anxious care which a mother shows to asick child. Eva permitted all this, and was daily more and more consumedby her untold mental sufferings. The engrossing cares which at this timeoccupied the family, prevented almost every one from paying attention toEva's state of mind, and thus she was often left to herself. 

For several of the last evenings Eva had gone down into her own chamberdirectly after tea--for in their present dwelling some of the daughtersoccupied the ground-floor--and on the plea of headache had excusedherself from again returning to her family during the evening. It was aprinciple of the parents never to make use of any other means ofcompulsion with their children, now that they were grown up, than love, be it in great things or in small. But then love had a great power inthis family; and as the daughters knew that it was the highest delightof their father to see them all round him in an evening, it became aprinciple with them neither to let temper nor any other unnecessarycause keep them away. As now, however, this was the third evening onwhich Eva had been absent, the father became uneasy, and the mother wentdown to her, whilst the rest of the family and some friends who werewith them were performing a little concert together. But Eva was not tobe found in her chamber, and the mother was hastening back again, fullof disquiet, when she met Ulla, who was going to make the beds. 

"Where is Eva?" asked she, with apparent indifference. 

Ulla started, was red and then pale, and answered hesitatingly, "Sheis--gone out--I fancy. "

"Where is she gone?" asked Elise, suddenly uneasy. 

"I fancy--to the grave of the young master, " returned Ulla. 

"To the grave?--so late! Has she gone there for several evenings?"inquired the mother. 

"This is now the third evening, " said Ulla: "ah, best gracious lady, itgoes really to my heart--it is not justly right there!"

"What is not justly right, Ulla?"

"That Mamselle Eva goes out to the grave so late, and does not come backagain till it has struck ten, and that she will be so much alone, "returned Ulla. "Yesterday Mamselle Leonore even cried, and begged of hernot to go, or to allow her to go with her. But Mamselle Eva would notlet her, but said she would not go, and that Mamselle Leonore should goup-stairs, and leave her alone; but as soon as Mamselle Leonore had lefther she went out for all that, with only a thin kerchief over her head. And this evening she is gone out also. Ah! it must be a great griefwhich consumes her, for she gets paler every day!"

Greatly disturbed by what she had heard, Elise hastened to seek herhusband. She found him deeply engaged over his books and papers, but heleft all the moment he saw the troubled countenance of his wife. Sherelated to him what she had heard from Ulla, and informed him that itwas her intention to go now immediately to the churchyard. 

"I will go with you, " said the Judge, "only tell Louise to defer supperfor us till we come back; I fancy nobody will miss us, they are sooccupied by their music. "

No sooner said than done. The husband and wife went out together; it washalf-past nine in the middle of May, but the air was cold, and a dampmist fell. 

"Good heavens!" said the Judge softly, "she'll get her death of cold ifshe stops in the churchyard so late, and in air like this!"

As they approached the churchyard, they saw that a female form passedhastily through the gate. It was not Eva, for she sat on the grave ofher brother! she sat there immovably upon the earth, and resembled aghost. The churchyard was, with this exception, deserted. The figurewhich had entered before them, softly approached the grave, and remainedstanding at the distance of a few paces. 

"Eva!" said a beseeching mournful voice; it was Leonore. The parentsremained standing behind some thick-leaved fir-trees. On precisely thesame spot had the father stood once before, and listened to aconversation of a very different kind. 

"Eva!" repeated Leonore, with an expression of the most heartfelttenderness. 

"What do you want with me, Leonore?" asked Eva impatiently, but withoutmoving. "I have already prayed you to let me alone. "

"Ah! I cannot leave you, dear Eva, " replied her sister, "why do you sithere on the ground, on this cold, wet evening? Oh, come home, come homewith me!"

"Do you go home, Leonore! this air is not proper for you! Go home to thehappy, and be merry, with them, " returned Eva. 

"Do you not remember, " tenderly pleaded Leonore, "how I once, many yearsago, was sick both in body and mind? Do you know who it was then thatleft the gay in order to comfort me? I prayed her to leave me--but shewent not from me--neither will I now go away from you. "

"Ah, go! leave me alone!" repeated Eva, "I stand now alone in theworld!"

"Eva, you distress me!" said her sister, "you know that there is no onein this world that I love like you: I mourned so much when you left us;the house without you seemed empty, but I consoled myself with thethought that Eva will soon come back again. You came, and I was sojoyful, for I believed that we should be so happy together. But I haveseen since then of how little consequence I am to you! still I love youas much as ever, and if you think that I have not sympathised in yoursorrows, that I have not wept with you and for you, you do me certainlyinjustice! Ah, Eva, many a night when you have believed perhaps that Ilay in sweet sleep, have I sat at your door, and listened how you wept, and have wept for you, and prayed for you, but I did not dare to come into you because I imagined your heart to be closed to me!" And so saying, Leonore wept bitterly. 

"You are right, Leonore, " answered Eva, "much has become closed in mewhich once was opened. This feeling, this love for him--oh, it hasswallowed up my whole soul! For some time I believed I should be able toconquer it--but now I believe so no longer----"

"Do you repent of your renunciation?" asked Leonore;--"it was so nobleof you! Would you yet be united to him!"

"No! no! the time for that is gone by, " said Eva. "I would rather diethan that; but you see, Leonore, I loved him so--I have tasted love, andhave felt how rapturous, how divine life might be!--Oh, Leonore, thebright sun-warm summer-day is not more unlike this misty evening hour, than the life which I lived for a season is unlike the future which nowlies before me!"

"It seems so to you now, Eva--you think so now, " answered her sister;"but let a little time pass over, and you will see that it will be quiteotherwise; that the painful feelings will subside, and life will clearup itself before you. Think only how it has already afforded youpleasure to look up to heaven when the clouds separated themselves, andyou said, 'see how bright it will be! how beautiful the heaven is!' andyour blue eyes beamed with joy and peace, because it was so. Believe me, Eva, the good time will come again, in which you will thus look up toheaven, and feel thus joyful, and thus gay!"

"Never!" exclaimed Eva, weeping; "oh, never will that time return! ThenI was innocent, and from that cause I saw heaven above me clear;--now somuch that is bad, so much that is impure has stained my soul--stains ityet!--Oh, Leonore, if you only knew all that I have felt for some timeyou would never love me again! Would you believe it that Louise'sinnocent happiness has infused bitterness into my soul; that the gaietywhich has again began to exist in the family has made me feelbitterness--bitterness towards my own family--my own beloved ones! Oh, Icould detest myself! I have chastised myself with the severest words--Ihave prayed with bitter tears, and yet----"

"Dear Eva, you must have patience with yourself, " said Leonore, "youwill not----"

"Ah! I am already weary of myself--of my life!" hastily interrupted Eva;"I am like some one who has already travelled far, who is already spent, but who must still go on, and can never come to his journey's end. Itseems to me as if I should be a burden to all who belong to me; and whenI have seen you all so happy, so gay one with another, I have felt myheart and my head burn with bitterness; then have I been obliged to goout--out into the cold evening dew, and I have longed to repose in theearth upon which it fell--I have longed to be able to hide myself fromevery one--deep, deep in the grave below!"

"But from me, " said Leonore, "you will not be able to hide yourself--norto go from me, since where you go there will I follow. Oh, what werelife to me if you were to leave it in despair! You would not go alone tothe grave, Eva! I would follow you there--and if you will not allow thatI sit by your side, I will seat myself on the churchyard wall, that thesame evening damps which penetrate you may penetrate me also; that thesame night wind which chills your bosom may chill mine; that I may belaid by your side and in the same grave with you! And willingly would Idie for you, if--you will not live for me, and for the many who love youso much! We will try all things to make you happier! God will help us;and the day will come in which all the bitter things of this time willseem like a dream, and when all the great and beautiful feelings, andall the agreeable impressions of life will again revive in you. You willagain become innocent--nay, become more, because virtue is a higher, aglorified innocence! Oh, Eva! if he whose dust reposes beneath us, ifhis spirit invisibly float around us--if he who was better and purerthan all of us, could make his voice audible to us at this moment, hewould certainly join with me in the prayer--'Oh, Eva! live--live forthose who love thee! Mortal life, with all its anguish and its joy, issoon past--and then it is so beautiful that our life should have causedjoy to one another on earth--it causes joy in heaven! The greatComforter of all affliction will not turn from thee--only do not thouturn from _Him!_ Have patience! tarry out thy time! Peace comes, comescertainly----'"

The words ceased; both sisters had clasped their arms around each other, and mingled their tears. Eva's head rested on Leonore's shoulder as she, after a long pause, spoke in a feeble voice:

"Say no more, Leonore; I will do what you wish. Take me--make of me whatyou will--I am too weak to sustain myself at this moment--support me--Iwill go with you--you are my good angel!"

Other guardian angels approached just then, and clasped the sisters in atender embrace. Conducted by them, Eva returned home. She wasaltogether submissive and affectionate, and besought earnestly forforgiveness from all. She was very much excited by the scenes which hadjust occurred, drank a composing draught which her mother administered, and then listened to Leonore, who read to her, as she lay in bed, tillshe fell asleep. 

The Judge paced up and down his chamber uneasily that night, and spokethus to his wife, who lay in bed:

"A journey to the baths, and that in company with you, would be quitethe best thing for her. But I don't know how I can now do without you;and more than that, where the money is to come from! We have had greatlosses, and see still great expenses before us: in the first placeLouise's marriage--and then, without a little money in hand, we cannotlet our girls go from home; and the rebuilding of our house. But we mustborrow more money--I see no other way. Eva must be saved; her mind mustbe enlivened and her body strengthened, let it cost what it may. I mustsee and borrow----"

"It is not necessary, Ernst, " said Elise; and the Judge, making a suddenpause, gazed at her with astonishment; whilst she, half raising herselfin bed, looked at him with a countenance beaming with joy. "Come, "continued she, "and I will recall something to your memory whichoccurred fifteen years ago. "

"What sort of a history can that be?" said he, smiling gaily, whilst heseated himself on the bed, and took the hand which Elise extended tohim. 

"Five-and-twenty years ago, " began she. 

"Five-and-twenty years!" interrupted he, "Heaven help me! you promisedto go no farther back than fifteen. "

"Patience, my love!--this is part the first of my story. Do you notremember, then, " said she, "how, five-and-twenty years ago, at thecommencement of our married life, you made plans for a journey into thebeautiful native land of your mother? I see now, Ernst, that youremember it. And how we should wander there you planned, and enjoy ourfreedom and God's lovely nature. You were so joyful in the prospect ofthis; but then came adversity, and cares, and children, and never-endinglabour for you, so that our Norwegian journey retreated year by yearmore into the background. Nevertheless, it remained like a point oflight to you in the future; but now, for some time, you seem to haveforgotten it; yes, for you have given up all your own pleasures inlabouring for your family; have forsaken all your own enjoyments, yourown plans, for your own sphere of activity and your home. But I have notforgotten the Norwegian journey, and in fifteen years have obtained themeans of its accomplishment. "

"In fifteen years!--what do you mean?" asked he. 

"Now I am arrived, " she answered, "at part the second of my history. Doyou still remember, Ernst, that fifteen years ago we were not so happyas we are now? You have forgotten? Well, so much the better; I scarcelyremember it myself any more, for the expansive rind of love has grownover the black scar. What I, however, know is, that at that time I wasnot so properly at home in actual life, and did not rightly understandall the good that it offered me, and that to console myself on thataccount I wrote a romance. But now it happened that by reason of mynovel I neglected my duties to my lord and husband--for the gentlemenare decidedly unskilled in serving themselves----"

"Very polite!" interposed the Judge, smiling. 

"Be content!" continued she: "now it happened that one evening his teaand my novel came into collision--a horrible history followed. But Imade a vow in my heart that one of these days the two rivals shouldbecome reconciled. Now you see my manuscript--you had the goodness tocall it rubbish--I sent to a very enlightened man, to a man ofdistinguished taste and judgment, and thus it befel, he found taste inthe rubbish; and, what say you to it? paid me a pretty little sum forpermission to bring it before the world. Do not look so grave, Ernst; Ihave never again taken up the pen to write novels; my own family hasfound me enough to do; and besides, I never again could wish to doanything which was not pleasant to you. You have displaced all rivals, do you see! But this one I decided should be the means of your takingthe Norwegian journey. The little sum of two hundred crowns banco whichit produced me have I placed in the savings' bank for this purpose; andin fifteen years it has so much augmented itself, that it will perfectlyaccomplish that object; and if ever the time for its employment willcome, it is now. The desire for travelling is gone from me--I covet nowonly rest. But you and----"

"And do you think, " said the Judge, "that I shall take your----"

"Oh, Ernst! why should you not?" exclaimed she; "if you could but knowwhat joy the thought of this has prepared for me! The money, which fromyear to year increased, in order to give you pleasure, has been to melike a treasure of hidden delight, which has many a time strengthenedand animated my soul! Make me only perfectly happy by allowing yourselfto have enjoyment from it. Take it, my Ernst, and make yourself pleasurewith it, this summer; I pray you to do so, on account of our children. Take Eva with you, and if possible Leonore also. Nothing would refreshEva's soul more than such a journey with you and Leonore in amagnificent and beautiful country. The money can be obtained in amonth's time, and a few months' leave of absence cannot possibly bedenied to one who has spent more than thirty years in incessant servicefor the state; and when Louise and her husband have left us, and springand nature are in their very loveliest, then you shall set out: youshall be refreshed after so many years of painful labour, and thewounded heart of our sick child shall be healed. "

CHAPTER XII. 

PLANS AND COUNTER PLANS. 

Eva entered her father's study the next morning. He immediately left hiswork, received her with the greatest tenderness, drew her to his side onthe sofa, and placing one arm round her waist, took her hand in his, andinquired, with a searching glance, "Do you want anything from me, mychild? Can I do anything for you? Tell me!"

Encouraged by his kindness, Eva described the state of her mind to herfather, and explained how she wished to commence a more active life inorder to overcome her weakness, and to regain strength and quiet. Thesituation of teacher in a girl's school in the city was vacant, and shewished immediately to take it, but only for the summer, during whichtime she and Leonore would prepare themselves to open a school inautumn. It was a plan of which they had long thought, and which wouldafford them a useful and independent life. Eva besought the acquiescenceof her father to this proposition. 

"Leonore and I, " continued she, "have this morning talked a deal on thesubject; we hope that with the counsel and countenance upon which we mayreckon, to be able to make it succeed. Ah, father! I am become quiteanxious about it on account of my own weakness. I must speedily resortto external means, that I may overcome it. I will become active; I willwork; and whilst thus employed I shall forget the past and myself, andonly live for the happiness of those who love me, and to whom I havecaused so much trouble. "

"My child! my dear child, you are right; you do rightly!" said thefather, deeply affected, and clasping his daughter in his arms; "yourwish shall be granted, and whatever is in my power will I do to forwardyour plans. What a many institutions for education will there notproceed from our house! But there is no harm at all in that--there areno more useful institutions on the face of the earth! One reservation, however, I must make from your and Leonore's determination. You maydedicate the autumn and the winter to your school--but the summer youmust devote to your father!--and Madame B. May find a teacher where shecan, only not from my family--for I am not now in a condition to furnishher one. "

"Ah, father, " said she, "every unemployed hour is a burden to me!"

"We will bear the burden together, my child! Leonore, I, and you, in ourwanderings towards the west. In a few weeks I am thinking of undertakinga journey, after which I have longed for these many years; I will visitthe beautiful native land of my mother. Will you, Eva, breathe thisfresh mountain air with me? I should have very little pleasure in thejourney alone, but in company with you and Leonore it will make me youngagain! Our heads are become bowed, my child, but in God's beautifulnature we will lift them up again! You will go with me--is it not so?Good! Come then with me to your mother, for it is she alone who hasmanaged this journey!"

With an arm round the waist of his daughter the Judge now went to hiswife; they found Leonore with her; nor was ever a quartet of Mozart'smore harmonious than that which was now performed among them. 

Eva was uncommonly animated all day, but in the evening she was in aburning fever. A feeling of anxiety went through the whole family; theyfeared that a new grave was about to be opened, and disquiet was paintedon all countenances. Eva demanded, with a fervour which was not withoutits feverish excitement, that the Assessor should be fetched. He cameimmediately. 

"Forgive me!" exclaimed Eva, extending her hand to him, "I have been soungrateful to you! But my heart was so disordered that it was quitechanged; but it will recover itself again. Leonore has given it health. I am very ill now; my hands burn, my head aches! Give me my littlework-box--that I may hold it between my hands--that I may lean my headupon it--else I shall be no better! You, my friend, will cure me that Imay again make my family happy!"

The Assessor dried his tears. As Eva leaned her head on the work-box, she talked earnestly, but not quite coherently of the plans for thefuture. 

"Very good, very good, " said the physician, interrupting her; "I toowill be of the establishment; I will give instruction in botany to thewhole swarm of girls, and between us we will drive them out into thewoods and into the fields, that we may see them learn all that isbeautiful in the world. But now, Eva, you must not talk any more--butyou must empty this glass. "

Eva took the composing draught willingly, and was soon calmer. She wasthe most obedient and amiable of patients, and showed a confidence inher old friend which penetrated his heart. He would have sate night andday by her bed. 

Eva's sickness was a violent fever, which confined her to her bed fornearly three weeks, and occasioned her family great uneasiness. Thissickness was, however, very beneficial for herself and for the health ofher mind; but still more beneficial was the infinite love with which shesaw herself encompassed on all sides. 

One day in the beginning of her convalescence, as she sate up and sawherself surrounded by all the comforts which love and home could gatherabout a beloved sufferer, she said to Leonore as she leaned upon her, "Ah, who would not be willing to live when they see themselves sobeloved!"

In the meantime Louise's wedding-day was approaching nearer. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

A SURPRISE. 

Three days before the wedding a grand travelling-carriage drawn by fourhorses rolled through the streets of the town of X----, and from theprodigious clatter which it made drew all the inquisitive among theinhabitants to their windows. 

"Did you see, dear sister, " cried the general shopkeeper Madame Suur toMadame Bask, the wife of the postmaster, "the grand travelling-carriagethat has just gone by? Did you see the sweet youth that sate on the leftand looked so genteel, with his snow-white neck and open shirt-collar?Lawk! how he looked at me--so sweet as he was! How like a real prince helooked!"

"Dear sister!" answered the postmistress, "then you did not see thegentleman who sate on the right? He was a grand gentleman, that I canpositively assert! He sate so stately leaning back in the carriage, andso wrapped up in grand furs that one could not see the least bit of hisface. Positively he is a great somebody!"

"I got a shimmer of the youth, " said the grey-brown handed andcomplexioned Annette P----, as she glanced up from her coarse sewing, with such a look as probably a captive casts who has glanced out of hisprison into a freer and more beautiful state of existence; "he looked socalm, with large blue eyes, out of the plate-glass windows of thecarriage! as pure and grave he looked as one of God's angels!"

"Ay, we know to be sure how the angels look!" said the postmistress, snubbingly, and with a severe glance at Annette; "but that's absolutelyall one! Yet I should like to know what grandees they are. I should notbe a bit surprised if it were his royal highness or graciouscrown-prince, who with his eldest son is travelling _incondito_ throughthe country. "

"Dear sister says what is true, " returned Madame Suur. "Yes, it must beso! for he looked like a regular prince, the sweet youth, as he satethere and glanced at me through the window; really, he smiled at me!"

"Nay, my ladies, we've got some genteel strangers in the city!"exclaimed Mr. Alderman Nyberg as he came into the room. 

"Have they stopped here?" cried both ladies at once. 

"My wife saw the carriage draw up and----"

"Nay, heaven defend us! Mr. Alderman what are you thinking about thatyou don't make a stir in the city and send a deputation to wait uponthem? For goodness sake let the city-council come together!"

"How? What? Who?" asked the Alderman, opening wide his grey eyes likesome one just awoke out of sleep; "can it indeed----"

"Yes, very likely his royal highness himself in his own properperson--possibly his majesty!"

"Gracious heavens!" said the Alderman, and looked as if the town-househad fallen. 

"But speed off in all the world's name, and run and look about you, anddon't stand here staring like a dead figure!" exclaimed thepostmistress, quite hoarse, while she shook up and down her great massof humanity on the creaking sofa. "Dear sister, cannot you also get onyour legs a little, and Annette too, instead of sitting therehum-drumming with her sewing, out of which nothing comes. Annette runquick, and see what it is all about--but come back in an instant-minuteand tell me, poor soul, whom our Lord has smitten with calamity andsickness--nay, nay, march pancake!"

The Alderman ran; dear Sister Suur ran; Mamselle Annette ran; we ranalso, dear reader, in order to see a large-made gentleman somewhat inyears, and a youth of eleven, of slender figure and noble appearance, dismount from the travelling carriage. It was his Excellency O---- andhis youngest son. 

They alighted and went into the house of the Franks. His Excellencyentered the drawing-room without suffering himself to be announced, andintroduced himself to Elise, who though surprised by the visit of theunexpected stranger, received him with all her accustomed gracefulself-possession; lamenting the absence of her husband, and thinking toherself that Jacobi had not in the least exceeded the truth in hisdescription of the person of his Excellency. 

His Excellency was now in the most brilliant of humours, and discovered, as by sudden revelation, that he and Elise were related; called her "mycousin" all the time, and said the handsomest things to her of herfamily, of whom he had heard so much, but more especially of a certainyoung man on whom he set the highest value. Further he said, thathowever much he must rejoice in having made the personal acquaintance ofhis cousin, still he must confess that his visit at this time hadparticular reference to the young man of whom he had spoken; and withthis he inquired after Jacobi. 

Jacobi was sent for, and came quickly, but not without evident emotionin his countenance. His Excellency O----approached him, extended hishand cheerfully, and said, "I rejoice to see you; my cursed gout has notquite left me; but I could not pass so near the city without going alittle out of my way in order to wish you happiness on your approachingmarriage, and also to mention an affair--but you must introduce me toyour bride. "

Jacobi did it with glowing eyes. His Excellency took Louise's hand, andsaid, "I congratulate you on your happiness, on being about to have oneof the best and the most estimable of men for your husband!" And withthese words he riveted a friendly penetrating glance upon her, and thenkissed her hand. Louise blushed deeply, and looked happier than when sheagreed to her own proposition of not troubling herself about hisExcellency. 

Upon the other daughters also who were present, his keen eyes were fixedwith a look which seemed rather to search into soul than body, andrested with evident satisfaction on the beautifully blushing Gabriele. 

"I also have had a daughter, " said he, slowly, "an only one--but she wastaken from me!"

A melancholy feeling seemed to have gained possession of him, but heshook it quickly from him, stood up, and went to Jacobi, to whom hetalked in a loud and friendly voice. 

"My best Jacobi, " said he, "you told me the last time we were togetherthat you thought of opening a school for boys in Stockholm. I am pleasedwith it, for I have proved that your ability as teacher and guide ofyouth is of no ordinary kind. I wish to introduce to you a pupil, mylittle boy. You will confer upon me a real pleasure if you will be ableto receive him in two months, at which time I must undertake a journeyabroad, which perhaps may detain me long, and would wish to know thatduring this my absence my son was in good hands. I wish that he shouldremain under your care at least two or three years. You will easily feelthat I should not place in your hands him who is dearest to me in theworld, if I had not the most perfect confidence in you, and therefore Igive you no prescribed directions concerning him. And if prayers canobtain motherly regard, " continued he, turning to Louise, "I woulddirect myself with them to you. Take good care of my boy--he has nolonger a mother!"

Louise drew the boy hastily to her, embraced him, and kissed him withwarmth. A smile as of sunshine diffused itself over the countenance ofthe father, and certainly no words which Louise could have spoken wouldhave satisfied him more than this silent but intelligent answer of theheart. Jacobi stood there with tears in his eyes; he could not bringforth many words, but his Excellency understood him, and shook himcordially by the hand. 

"May we not have the horses taken out? Will not your Excellency have thegoodness to stay to dine with us?" were the beseeching questions whichwere repeated around him. 

But however willing his Excellency would have been to do it, it wasimpossible. He had promised to dine at Strö with Count Y----, eighteenmiles distant from the town. 

"But breakfast? a little breakfast at least? It should be served in amoment. The young Count Axel would certainly be glad of a littlebreakfast!" asserted Louise, with friendly confidence, who seemedalready to have taken under her protection the future pupil of herhusband. 

The young Count Axel did not say no; and the father, whose behaviourbecame every moment more cordial and gay, said that a little breakfastin such company would eat excellently. 

Bergström prepared with rapture and burning zeal the table for the loftyguest, who in the mean time chatted with evident satisfaction with Eliseand Jacobi, directing often also his conversation to Louise as ifinsensibly to test her; and from their inmost hearts did both mother andbridegroom rejoice that with her calm understanding she could stand thetest so well. 

Gabriele entertained the young Count Axel in one of the windows bylistening to the repeater of his new gold watch, which set the grave andnaturally silent boy at liberty to lead the entertainment in anotherway; and Gabriele, who entered into all his ideas, wondered very muchover the wonderful properties of the watch; and let it repeat over andover again, whilst her lovely and lively smiles and her merry wordscalled forth more and more the confidence of the young Axel. 

Breakfast was ready; was brought in by the happy Bergström; was eatenand praised by his Excellency, who was a connoisseur; a description ofthe capitally preserved anchovies was particularly desired from Louise;and then her health and that of her bridegroom was drunk in Madeira. 

Towards the conclusion of the breakfast the Judge came home. The traitof independence, bordering on pride, which sometimes revealed itself inJudge Frank's demeanour, and which perhaps was visible at the very timeof his respectful but simple greeting of his Excellency, called forth inhim also a momentary appearance of height. But this pride soon vanishedfrom both sides. These two men knew and valued each other mutually; andit was not long before they were so deeply engrossed by conversation, that his Excellency forgot his journey, not for one only, but for twohours. 

"I lament over Strö and its dinner, " said his Excellency, preparing totake his departure; "how they must have waited there! But we could notpossibly help it. "

After his Excellency had departed, he left behind him a brightimpression on all the family of Franks, not one of whom did not feelanimated in a beneficial manner by his behaviour and his words. Jacobiin his joy made a high _entre-chat_, and embracing Louise, said, "Now, Louise, what say you to the man? And we have got a pupil that will drawat least twenty after him!"

Louise was perfectly reconciled to his Excellency. 

From this day forth Bergström began a new era; whatever happened in thefamily was either before or after the visit of his Excellency. 

 * * * * *

"Ah, then, my goodness! that it should be Excellency O----!" said thedear sister Bask to the dear sister Suur. 

"Yes, just think! That he should come solely, and for no other purpose, than to visit the Franks, and breakfast there, and stop several hoursthere! He is a cousin, of the Judge's lady. "

"Her cousin! Bah! no more her cousin than I am the king's cousin;positively not!"

"Yes, yes! or why else should he have called her 'my gracious cousin?'And one must confess that there is something refined and genteel abouther--and such hands as she has have I never seen!"

"Hum! There's no art in looking genteel and having beautiful hands, whenone goes about the house like a foolish thing, washing one's hands inrose-water, and all the livelong day doing not one sensible act. That Iknow well enough!"

"Yes, yes! they who will be of any use in their house cannot keep suchhands, and sit the whole day and read romances! I should like to knowhow it would have gone with the blessed Suur's baking business--to whichat last he added the grocery--if I had been a genteel lady! Not at all, because I should not have done it. Sweet sister, know that I once had mywhims--yes, and a turn for scribbling and writing. Yes, so help meheaven! if it had not been for my little bit of sound sense, whichshowed me my folly in time, I might have become a regular learned lady, another--what do you call her?--Madame de Staël! But when I married thelate Suur I determined to give up all that foolishness, and do honour tothe baking; and now I have quite let my little talent slip away from me, so that it is as good as buried. But on that account I am, to be sure, no fitting company for the Franks--think only!--and shall be only lessand less so, if they are always climbing higher and higher. "

"Let them climb as high as they will, I don't intend to make obeisancesbefore them, that I can promise them! that I absolutely will not! Itvexes me enough that Annette is so mad after them. Before one is awareof it, they will be taking her away from me, skin and hair; and that'smy thanks for all I have lavished upon her! But I'll tell the gentrythat I'm positively determined to make no compliments to them or totheir Excellencies, and that one person is just as good as another!Positively I'll tell them that!"

CHAPTER XIV. 

THE EVENING BEFORE THE WEDDING. 

"God bless the little ones! But when one considers how little of ararity children are in this world, one has only to open one's mouth tosay so, and people are all up in arms and make such a stir and such anado about their little ones! Heart's-dearest! People may call themangels as much as ever they will, but I would willingly have my kneesfree from them! But worst of all is it with the first child in a family!Oh, it is a happiness and a miracle, and cannot be enough overloadedwith caresses and presents from father and mother, and aunts andcousins, and all the world. Does it scream and roar--then it is abudding genius; is it silent--then it is a philosopher in its cradle;and scarcely is it eight days old but it understands Swedish and almostGerman also! And--it bites, the sweet angel!--it has got a tooth! Itbites properly. Ah, it is divine! Then comes the second child:--it is byfar less wonderful already; its cry and its teeth are not half soextraordinary. The third comes;--it is all over with miracles now! theaunts begin to shake their heads, and say, 'no lack of heirs in thehouse! Nay, nay, may there be only enough to feed them all. ' After thiscomes a fourth, and a fifth, and a sixth--yes, then people's wits areset in full play! The parents resign themselves, but the friends defendthemselves! Heart's-dearest, what is to become of it? The house full ofchildren, there's soon a dozen of them! Poor Mrs. This and This--itmakes one quite weak both in body and mind only to think of it! Yes, yes, my friends, people don't put these things down in romances, but itgoes on in this way in real life! Yes!"

It was the Chamberlain's lady who preached this little sermon, in thezeal of her spirit, to the young couple who the next day were to be manand wife. She ate on this evening Whitsuntide-porridge[19] with theFranks, and all the while gave sundry lessons for the future. Jacobilaughed heartily over the history of the children, and endeavoured tocatch Louise's eye; but this was fixed upon the Postillion, which shewas arranging with a very important and grave aspect. The Judge andElise looked smilingly on each other, and extended to each other theirhands. 

The state of feeling in the family, for the rest of the evening, wasquite rose-coloured. Letters had been received from Petrea which gavecontentment to all her friends, and Eva sate in the family circle withreturning, although as yet pale roses on her cheeks. The Judge satebetween Eva and Leonore, laying out on the map the plan of the summertour. They would visit Thistedal, Ringerig, and Tellemark, and would gothrough Trondhiem to Norland, where people go to salute the midnightsun. 

Gabriele looked after her flowers, and watered the myrtle tree fromwhich next morning she would break off sprays wherewith to weave a crownand garland for Louise. Jacobi sate near the mother, and seemed to havemuch to say to her; what it was, however, nobody heard, but he oftenconveyed her hand to his lips, and seemed as if he were thanking her forhis life's happiness. He looked gentle and happy. Every thing wasprepared for the morrow, so that this evening would be spent in quiet. 

According to Jacobi's wish the marriage was to take place in the church, and after this they were all to dine _en famille_. In the evening, however, a large company was to be assembled in the S. Saloon, whichwith its adjoining garden had been hired for the purpose. This wasaccording to the wish of the father, who desired that for the last time, perhaps for many years, his daughter should collect around her all heracquaintance and friends, and thus should show to them, at the sametime, welcome politeness. He himself, with the help of Jacobi andLeonore, who was everybody's assistant, had taken upon himself thearrangement of this evening's festival, that his wife might not befatigued and disturbed by it. 

At supper the betrothed sat side by side, and Jacobi behaved sometimesas if he would purposely seize upon his bride's plate as well as hisown, which gave rise to many dignified looks, to settings-to-rightsagain, and a deal of merriment besides. 

Later in the evening, when they all went to rest, Louise found hertoilet-table covered with presents from bridegroom, parents, sisters, and friends. A great deal of work was from Petrea. These gifts awakenedin Louise mingled feelings of joy and pain, and as she hastened yet onceagain to embrace the beloved ones from whom she was about so soon toseparate, many mutual tears were shed. But evening dew is prophetic of abright morrow--that was the case here. 

FOOTNOTES:

[19] There is some new kind of porridge for almost every week in theyear in Sweden, with which the table is most religiously served. --M. H. 

CHAPTER XV. 

THE WEDDING-DAY. 

The sun shone bright and warm on that morning of Whit-Monday. Flowersand leaves glistened in the morning dew; the birds sang; the bells ofthe city rang festively and gaily; the myrtle-crown was ready wovenearly, and the mother and Leonore were present at the toilet of thebride. They expected that Jacobi would make his appearance in thehighest state of elegance, and hoped that his appearance would not dimthat of the bride. Louise's sisters made her appearance on this occasionof more importance than she herself did. Gabriele dressed her hair--shepossessed an actual talent for this art--half-blown rose-buds wereplaced in the myrtle wreath; and what with one, and what with anotherlittle innocent art of the toilet, a most happy effect was produced. Louise looked particularly well in her simple, tasteful, bridaldress--for the greatest part of the work of her own skilful hands--andthe content, and the beautiful repose which diffused itself over hercountenance, spread a glorification over all. 

"You look so pale to-day in your white dress, my little Eva, " saidLeonore, as she helped her to dress--"you must have something pink onyour neck to brighten you up, else our bride will be anxious when shesees you. "

"As you will, Leonore! I can put this handkerchief on, that it may givea little reflected colour to my cheek. I will not distress any one. "

 * * * * *

When the festally-arrayed family assembled for breakfast they presenteda beautiful appearance. The family-father, however, looked more gloomythan gay; and as Jacobi entered they saw, with astonishment, that histoilet was considerably negligent. He had been out; his hair was indisorder, and he evidently was in an excited state of mind; but he washandsome for all that. He kissed his bride tenderly on hand and lips, and gave her a nosegay of beautiful wild-flowers, and several splendidlybound books, --the sermons of Franzén and Wallin, which gift was veryvaluable, and was received by "our sensible" and sermon-loving Louisewith the greatest pleasure. 

After breakfast Jacobi hastened to arrange his toilet, and then they allwent to church. The weather was uncommonly beautiful, and crowds offestally-dressed people thronged about, in part to hear the Provost, whowas to preach that day, but principally to see the bridal pair. 

It was an agreeable surprise to the family when at the entrance of thechurchyard many young girls began to strew flowers before the bridalcouple the whole way to the church-door. The church also was decoratedwith flowers and foliage. 

When the Judge took the hand of his daughter in the church, sheperceived that his was cold, and that it trembled. She looked at him, and read in his countenance the disquiet with which his soul laboured. 

"My father, " said she to him, "I feel so calm, so happy!"

"Then I am so too, my child, " said he, pressing her hand; and after thismoment his demeanour was calm and decided as usual. 

Jacobi, both before and after the ceremony, was excited in the highestdegree; he wept much. Louise, on the contrary, was externally quitecalm. She looked rather pale, but her eyes were bright and almostjoyous; an altogether unusual contrast in a bridal pair. 

On their return from the church a little circumstance occurred whichgave pleasure to all, but more especially to the Judge. As they wentpast the remains of the burnt-down house, they saw a great swarm of beessuddenly mount up from the trees of the garden; it flew several timesround the market-place as if seeking for a habitation, and at lastturning back, struck directly down among the ruins of the former kitchenfireplace; it seemed as if it had selected the hearth for its abidinghome. This was regarded as the happiest omen, and no sooner had theJudge conducted his daughter home, than he returned in order to removehis bees to a convenient resting-place; Gabriele following him withBaron L----'s treatise on the management of bees in her hand. 

When Louise was again locked in the arms of her mother--the mother andEva had remained at home--she was seized by a slight trembling fit whichlasted several hours, but which was unobserved by all excepting hermother; and through the whole of the day she continued graver thancommon. Jacobi, on the contrary, after his fit of weeping was over, andhe had embraced everybody, and kissed his bride on lips, hair, hand, andfoot, was seized with a real desire of dancing with the whole world. Hewas so wildly joyous and happy, and at the same time so amiable, that heimparted his state of mind to everybody else. 

At half-past four in the afternoon they assembled themselves in theS---- garden, where the time was passed in the most agreeable manner, with music, walking about, entertainment, and eating of ices and fruit, to which also the Almighty added the brightest heaven and the calmestair. Later in the evening they danced in the great saloon; no lady couldsit still, and scarcely a gentleman stand; all must dance! We havenothing more to say of the ball, but we must not pass over in silencethat which occurred afterwards. When the company wished to go across thegarden to the eating-room, they perceived that it had rainedconsiderably, and that it still dropped; this occasioned a greatcommotion among the ladies, because all the wrapping shawls and cloakswere on the other side; they had quite forgotten to bring them over inthe fine weather. But it was, according to popular belief in Sweden, fortunate, and quite according to the order of things, that rain-dropsshould fall on the crown of the bride; but at the same time it was alsoagainst all sense of prudence and propriety that she should wet hersilken shoes. And then all the other ladies! They must have the wrappingthings fetched to this side!

"I will provide for it!" exclaimed Jacobi, and with these words seizedhis astonished bride in his arms and carried her across the garden. Whathe whispered in her ear during this journey we know not, but thus far wecan say, that this action set Jacobi very high in the favour of theladies. 

 * * * * *

The new-married pair spent several days after the wedding under thepaternal roof, and joyful days they were, only rather too much given upto dissipation, for all friends and acquaintance would see and entertainthe two young people. Mrs. Gunilla gave them a dinner, in which shecommunicated to them that she should, at the same time with them, journey to Stockholm, where important affairs would oblige her to stay aconsiderable time. However much it grieved Elise to lose so excellentand almost motherly a friend, she rejoiced very much over what Louiseand Jacobi would win thereby. Louise and Mrs. Gunilla, it is true, hadnot perfectly harmonised together, because each would instruct theother; but Jacobi and she agreed all the better, and she had alreadyinvited the young people to dine with her as often as they would inStockholm. 

In the hour of parting she spoke thus to Elise and her husband withtears in her eyes: "Who knows when we may meet again? The old woman isin years--is not of much more use in the world--na, na! Our Lord willcare for her as he has hitherto done! And listen, " continued she with anarch, roguish air, "don't be uneasy on account of the young folks;--Ishall see that it all goes on right there. I invite myself as sponsor tothe first child. Perhaps we shall meet then! Yes, yes, I have apresentiment that we shall see one another again in Stockholm! Nay! nowfarewell, dear Elise! God bless you, my kind friends, and make all gowell with you! Think of the old woman sometimes! Adieu!"

 * * * * *

After the trouble of the packing was over--we mean packing Louise'sthings, of course--and the still sorrow of parting, quiet returned backinto the house, and was only agreeably interrupted by preparations forthe journey to the West. The Judge seemed at this time to be youngagain, and an increased union of heart showed itself between him and hiswife. So wear away, sometimes, the most beautiful summer days, evenafter the autumn has made advances into the year. From what cause isthis? God knows. 

The invisible genius of our history leads us at this moment far from thehome of peace to a distant shore, in order to give us a glimpseinto--the subject of our next chapter. 

CHAPTER XVI. 

A SICK CHAMBER. 

If the sun shine on the head of the crucified, if a bird lift up itsjoyous song in presence of a broken heart, it seems to us cruel. Butbeautiful is the unconscious irony of nature in comparison with thatwhich exists in human circumstances. We have here an example of thisbefore us. See these sparkling false diamonds, this red gauze finery, these ruins of theatrical ornament. They seem to mock the misery of theroom about which they are strewn. In that wretched room is want oflight; want, not only of all the comforts of life, but also of its mostnecessary things. And yet--where could they be more useful than here?

Forlorn, upon a miserable bed lay a woman, who appeared to have seenbetter days; still is she handsome, although passion and suffering seemearly to have wasted her yet young countenance. Fever burned on thesunken cheek and in the dark eye, and her lips moved themselves wildly;but no one was there to refresh with friendly hand the dry lips and thehot brow; no cooling fever-draught stood near her bed. Two new-bornbabes lay weeping near the mother. Uneasy phantoms seemed to agitate theunhappy one: sometimes she raised herself in the bed with wild gestures, but sunk back again powerless; whilst her pale, convulsed, and wanderinglips spoke from the depths of her torn heart the following incoherentwords:

"It is a bitter, bitter path! but I must, must fly for help! My strengthis broken--I can do nothing--the children cry to be heard, hungry, half-naked! Parents! sisters! help!

 * * * * *

"It is night--the wind is cold--I freeze! The waves swell andswell--they drive a wreck ashore--they strike on the rocks--ah!wherefore did it not go down in the storm on the open sea? How dreadfulin full consciousness to be dashed to pieces! And thou, thou who art thecause of all, thou sittest by and lookest coldly on me! Miserableegotist! Dost thou bear a heart in thy breast? The temple is dashed topieces, and thou that has ruined it treadest upon its ruins! I knew nothow misfortune looked--I knew not what it really is! Misery! But thoumiserable one who----

"Hush! is it she? Is it my foster-mother who comes here so lightly, sogently, so softly? It becomes bright! She will lay her warm hands on mylittle children, and wrap them in the warm coverlet which she made forme--

 There sits a dove so fair and white All on the lily spray. 

Is it she? No! it is the moon, which rises palely out of black clouds. How coldly she looks on my misery! Away, away!

"Sisters, I thirst! Will no one give me a drop of water? Have you all, all left me? I thought I saw you again. It is so strange in my head. Perhaps I shall become mad if I thirst much longer. It is dark--I amafraid! I am afraid of the dark bird! If it come again it will begin torend my heart; but if I am ever again strong, fresh and strong, I willkill it--with my own hands will I murder it! Day and night a wick burnsin my heart; its name is Hate, and the oil that supplies it isbitterness!

"When shall I be strong again? Do you see how he has misused me; hasfettered me to the sick-bed? Do you hear the children cry? the childrenwhich, through the abuse of the father, have come into the world beforetheir time, and now will die? Give nourishment to the children, for themercy of God, sisters! Let me die, but help the children! Now they arequiet! Thanks! thanks! Shall I die this morning? No, no, not yet!

 * * * * *

"The gulf is so dark! Ah, what an abyss!

"Again comes the black bird; I had fled from him, but he followed me, tore off my wings, so that I can fly no longer!

 * * * * *

"Help me up, I must dress myself! Here, with my handsome attire! haste!To-night I must appear anew before the public, and be admired; must hearthe clapping of hands and bravos; must see garlands showered before myfeet! See you, sisters; it is so glorious! It is an hour of life! It isa real burst of joy! See how I glitter--how I beam forth! Listen to thetempest of applause! How it thunders! But wherefore is it now again sostill?--still and dark as the grave? It was a short joy! Cursed be hewho made it so short!

"Do not look so sternly upon me, foster-father! Am I not alreadysufficiently cast down! Your stern look penetrates me. Give me yourhand, that I may lay it on my burning brow. You turn from me! You go!Oh!

 * * * * *

"It is so desolate! The strand has such sharp stones! It is so dreadfulto be wounded against them!

"I will not die! I am so young, have so much strength of life in mysoul! I will not yet go down into eternity! No!

 * * * * *

"Who saves me? There come foaming waves!--or are they your white arms, sisters, which you stretch out towards me? Is it you whom I see likegrey misty ghosts wandering on the corpse coast! Are you then dead? Doyou hear the noise? It is death--it is the black bird which comes!--nowI must fly--fly--fly--or die!"

 * * * * *

With a violent effort the delirious woman rose from the bed--took a fewsteps, and then fell down as if lifeless. Her head struck against thebedstead, and a stream of blood gushed forth from her temples. 

At this moment a tall man habited in black entered the room softly;light locks surrounded the noble but somewhat aged head; the mild, serious expression of the countenance, and the affectionate look of theblue eyes showed, still more than the dress, whose servant he was. Alady, who was not handsome, but whose countenance bore the stamp ofbeauty of the soul, like her husband's, followed him. With a look of thedeepest compassion this couple surveyed the room, and then drew near thesick-bed. 

"Merciful heaven!" whispered they, "we are come too late! The childrenare dead--and so is the mother!"

 * * * * *

Let us now turn our eyes away from this dark picture that they may restupon a brighter one. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

A LANDSCAPE. 

On one of the heights of the Dofrine Mountains we see threetravellers--an elderly man and two young ladies. He seems neither afraidof trouble for himself nor for them; he seems as if he were accustomedto it and could play with it. But he does all so affectionately; he goesbefore them so friendly and kind, reaches out his hand and encouragesthem to yet another effort, and they would then enjoy the magnificentview; they would then be able to rest, and obtain refreshment at the"säter-hut"[20] above them! The daughters follow him smiling, andovercome weakness and weariness for his sake! Now they are above on theheights--and well are they rewarded for all the labour of climbing upthere! The earth lies below so rich, with its hills and valleys, darkwoods, fruitful plains--and there, in the far distance, sea and heavenunite themselves in majestic repose!

With an exclamation of rapture the father extended his arms towards themagnificent prospect; and the mountain wind--not keen here, but mildfrom the breath of spring, agreeably cooled the cheeks of the wanderers. 

The father went to the hut to obtain milk for himself and his daughters, and in the mean time one of the daughters rested upon a moss-coveredstone and supported herself against a rock. Almond-scented linnea formeda garland around her feet, and the joyous singing-birds ascended fromthe valley. The sister, who stood near her and against whom she leanedher lovely head whilst the wind played in her brown tresses, looked onthe comfortable dwellings which gleamed forth below from amid greentrees and beside clear waters, and her affectionate but unimpassionedheart rejoiced itself over the scene, which seemed to say to her, "Heremay one live calmly and happily!" At that moment she heard her namespoken by a loving voice; it was Eva's, who, while she pointed with handand eye towards heaven, where the clouds began to divide themselves, andstripes of blue light gleamed forth like friendly eyes, "Seest thou, Leonore, " said she, gently smiling, "it will be bright!"

"Will it be bright? Ah, thank God!" whispered Leonore in reply, witheyes full of joyful tears, as she laid her cheek against the brow of hersister. 

FOOTNOTES:

[20] Säter-hütte among the mountains of Norway answer to the Senne ofthe Swiss mountains. During the summer the inhabitants of many parts ofNorway withdraw from their villages to others, especially when situatedhigher on the mountains, where they can fell wood and find betterpasturage for their cattle. They dwell with their herds in these säters, which are generally abandoned in winter. --M. H. 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

UPS AND DOWNS. 

When a new swarm is ready in a hive to attempt its own flight, warningvoices may be heard on still evenings in the little state, callingforth, "Out! out!"

People have interpreted it to be the old queen bee, which thus warns theyoung ones forth into the world to fashion their own kingdom. I shouldrather imagine it to be the young ones who in this manner sing forththeir longing. But let it be with them as it may, certain it is that inthe human hive, Home, a similar cry sometimes makes itself heard. Thenalso there, when the young swarm is become strong with the honey and waxof home, it finds the house too narrow and longs to get abroad. This iscommon to all homes; but it is peculiar to the good and happy home, thatthe same voice which exclaims, "Out! out!" exclaims afterwards yet moreanimatedly, "In! in!"

So was it in the home of the Franks. 

The period to which we must now cast our eyes conducts us several yearsbeyond the time when we saw father and daughters on the heights of theDofrine Mountains, and shows us our Petrea returned home after a longabsence. 

The mother, Petrea, and Gabriele, are deep in a conversation whichappears to interest them all three in a very lively manner, and the mildvoice of the mother is heard saying--

"You may freely decide for yourself, my good child, that you knowperfectly well; but as you describe Mr. M. , and with the feelings, ormore properly speaking, the want of feeling you have for him, I cannever believe that you will be happy with him, and I cannot thereforeadvise this marriage. See, here are some almonds in the shell, my deargirl! We have not forgotten so soon your love for them--I set the basketbefore you. "

"And the Countess Solenstråle, " said the lively Gabriele, archly, "hasherself spoken for her nephew, and invited you to her house. Very politeand handsome of her! And you, Petrea, no longer covet this exaltation?"

"Ah, no, Gabriele!" answered Petrea, "this childish desire is long past;it is another kind of exaltation than this, that I pine for. "

"And this is called?" asked Gabriele, with a light in her lovely eyes, which showed her that she very well knew that, which however she had notpronounced in words. 

"I do not know what I should call it; but there lives and moves here alonging difficult to describe, " said Petrea, laying her hand upon herbreast, and with eyes full of tears; "oh, if I could only rise upwardsto light--to a higher, freer life!"

"You do not wish to die!" said Gabriele, warmly; "not that I now feardeath. Since Henrik has trod this path, I feel so entirely different towhat I used to do. Heaven is come quite near to the grave. To die is tome to go to him, and to his home. But I am yet so happy to be livinghere with my family, and you, my Petrea, must feel so too. Ah! life onearth, with those that we love, may indeed be so beautiful!"

"So I think, and so I feel, Gabriele, " replied Petrea, "and more so thanever when I am at home, and with my own family. On that account I willgladly live on the earth, at least till I am more perfect. But I musthave a sense of this life having in it a certain activity, by which Imay arrive at the consciousness of that which lives within me--theremoves in me a fettered spirit, which longs after freedom!"

"Extraordinary!" said Gabriele, half displeased, "how unlike people areone to another. I, for my part, feel, not the least desire for activity. I, unworthy mortal, would much rather do nothing. " And so saying sheleaned her pretty head with half-shut eyes against her mother, wholooked on her with an expression that seemed to say, "live only; that isenough for thee!"

Petrea continued: "When I have read or heard of people who have livedand laboured for some great object, for some development of humannature, who have dedicated all their thoughts and powers to thispurpose, and have been able to suffer and to die for it; oh! then I havewept for burning desire that it also might be granted to me to spend andto sacrifice my life. I have looked around me, have listened after suchan occasion, have waited and called upon it; but ah! the world goes pastme on its own way--nobody and nothing has need of me. "

Petrea both wept and laughed as she spoke, and with smiles and tearsalso did both Gabriele and the mother listen to her, and she continued--

"As there was now an opportunity for my marrying, I thought that herewas a sphere in which I might be active--But, ah! I feel clearly that itis not the right one for me, neither is it the one for which I amsuitable--especially with a husband whose tastes and feelings are sodifferent to mine. "

"But, my good girl, " said the mother, disconcerted, "how came it then, that he could imagine you sympathised so well together; it seems fromhis letter that he makes himself quite sure of your consent, and thatyou are very well suited to each other. "

"Ah!" replied Petrea, blushing, and not without embarrassment, "thereare probably two causes for that, and it was partly his fault and partlymine. In the country, where I met him, he was quite left to himself;nobody troubled themselves about him; he had _ennui_, and for thatreason I began to find pleasure for him. "

"Very noble, " said Gabriele, smiling. 

"Not quite so much so as you think, " replied Petrea, again blushing, "because--at first I wished really to find pleasure for _him_, and thenalso a little for myself. Yes, the truth is this--that--I--had nothingto do, and while I busied myself about Mr. M. , I did not think it sovery much amiss to busy him a little about me; and for this reason Ientered into his amusements, which turned upon all sorts of pettysocial tittle-tattle; for this reason I preserved apricots for him, Itold stories to him, and sang to him in an evening in thetwilight--'Welcome, O Moon!' and let him think if he would, that he wasthe moon. Mother, Gabriele, forgive me, I know how little edificationthere is in all this, it is quite too----but you cannot believe howdangerous it is to be idle, when one has an active spirit within one, and an object before one that----You laugh! God bless you for it! theaffair is not worth anything more, for it is anything but tragic--yet itmight become so, if on account of my sins I were to punish myself bymarrying Mr. M. I should be of no worth to him, excepting as housekeeperand plaything, and this would not succeed in the long run; for the resthe does not love me, cannot love me seriously, and would certainlyeasily console himself for my refusal. "

"Then let him console himself, and do not think any further on theaffair, " cried Gabriele, with animation. 

"I am of Gabriele's opinion, " said the mother; "for to marry merely tobe married; merely to obtain a settlement, an establishment, and allthat, is wrong; and, moreover, with your family relationships, the mostunnecessary thing in the world. You know, my dear child, that we haveenough for ourselves and for you, and a sphere of action suitable foryou will present itself in time. Your father will soon return home, andthen we can talk with him on the subject. He will assist us directly inthe best way. "

"I had, indeed, presentiments, " said Petrea, with a sigh, "and hopes, and dreams, perhaps--of a way, of an activity, which would have made meuseful and happy according to my own abilities. I make now much humblerdemands on life than formerly; I have a much less opinion of myself thanI had--but, oh! if I might only ally myself, as the least atom of light, to the beams which penetrate humanity at the same time that they animatethe soul of man, I would thank God and esteem myself happy! I have madean attempt--you know, mother, and Gabriele--to express in a booksomewhat of that which has lived in me and which still lives; you knowthat I have sent the manuscript to an enlightened printer for hisjudgment, and also--if his judgment be favourable--that he shouldpublish it. If this should succeed, if a sphere of action should openitself to me in this way, oh! then some time or other I might become amore useful and happy being; should give pleasure to my connexions, and----"

Petrea was here interrupted by the arrival of a large packet directed toherself. A shuddering apprehension went through her; her heart beatviolently as she broke the seal, and--recognised her own manuscripts. The enlightened, intelligent printer sent them back to her, accompaniedby a little note, containing the pleasant tidings that he would notoffer the merest trifle for the book, neither could he undertake theprinting of it at his own cost. 

"Then this path is also closed against me!" said Petrea, bowing her headto her hand that nobody might see how deeply she felt this. Thus thenshe had deceived herself regarding her talents and her ability. But nowthat this way also was closed against her--what should she undertake?Marriage with Mr. M. Began again to haunt her brain. She stumbled aboutin the dark. 

Gabriele would not allow, however, that the path of literature wasclosed against her; she was extremely excited against the printer. "Hewas certainly, " she said, "a man without any taste. "

"Ah!" said Petrea, readily smiling, "I also will gladly flatter myselfwith that belief, and that if the book could only be printed, then wesoon--but that is not to be thought of!"

Gabriele thought it was quite worth while to think about it, and did notdoubt but that means might be found, some time or other, to make thegentleman printer make a long face about it. 

The mother agreed; spoke of the return of her husband, who, she said, would set all right. "Keep only quietly with us, Petrea, calmly, anddon't be uneasy about the means for bringing out your book; they will befound without difficulty, if we only give ourselves time. "

"And here, " added Gabriele, "you shall have as much quiet as you desire. If you would like to spend the whole day in reading and writing, I willtake care that nobody disturbs you. I will attend to all your friendsand acquaintance, if it be needful, to insure your quiet. I will onlycome in to you to tell you when breakfast is ready and when dinner; andon the post-day, I'll only come at the post-hour and knock at yourdoor, and take your letters and send them off. And in the evening, then--then we may see you amongst us--you cannot believe how welcome youwill be! Ah! certainly you will feel yourself happy among those who loveyou so much! And your book! we will send it out into the world, and ittoo shall succeed one of these days!"

Loving voices! domestic voices in happy families, what adversity, whatsuffering is there which cannot be comforted by you!

Petrea felt their healing balsam. She wept tears of love and gratitude. An hour afterwards, much calmer in mind, she stood at the window, andnoticed the scene without. Christmas was at hand, and every thing was inlively motion, in order to celebrate the beautiful festival joyously. The shops were ornamented, and people made purchases. A little bird cameand sate on the window, looked up to Petrea, twittered joyfully, andflew away. A lively sentiment passed through Petrea's heart. 

"Thou art happy, little bird, " thought she; "so many beings are happy. My mishap grieves no one, hurts no one. Wherefore, then, should itdepress me? The world is large, and its Creator rich and good. If thispath will not succeed for me, what then? I will find out another. "

In the evening she was cheerful with her family. But when night came, and she was alone; when the external world presented no longer itschanging pictures; when loving, sweet voices no more allured her out ofherself, --then anguish and disquiet returned to her breast. In nocondition to sleep, and urged by irresistible curiosity, she sateherself down sighingly to go through her unlucky manuscripts. She foundmany pencil-marks, notes of interrogation, and traces of the thumb onthe margin, which plainly proved that the reader had gone through themanuscript with a censorious hand, and had had satisfaction in passinghis judgment of "good for nothing!"

Ah! Petrea had built so many plans for herself and her family upon this, which was now good for nothing; had founded upon it so many hopes forher ascent upwards. Was nothing now to come out of them all?

Petrea read; she acknowledged the justice of many marginal remarks, butshe found, more and more, that the greater part of them had referenceto single expressions, and other trifles. Petrea read and read, and wasinvoluntarily captivated by that which she read. Her heart swelled, hereyes glowed, and suddenly animated by that feeling which (we say it_sans comparaison_) gave courage to Correggio, and which comfortedGalileo, she raised herself, and struck her hand upon the manuscriptwith the exclamation, "It is good for something after all!"

Animated to the depths of her heart, she ran to Gabriele, and laughing, embraced her with the words, "You shall see that some fine day I'llascend upwards yet. "

PART IV. 

CHAPTER I. 

PETREA TO IDA. 

From my Hermitage in the Garret. 

"'Illusions! Illusions!' you cry over all joys, all faith, all love inlife. I shout back with all my might over your own words, 'Illusions!Illusions!' All depends upon what we fix our faith and our affections. Must the beauty of love and worth of life be at an end to woman when herfirst spring, her bloom of love, her moments of romance are past? No, donot believe that, Ida. Nothing in this world is such an illusion as thisbelief. Life is rich; its tree blossoms eternally, because it isnourished by immortal fountains. It bears dissimilar fruits, varies incolour and glory, but all beautiful; let us undervalue none of them, forall of them are capable of producing plants of eternal life. 

"Youthful love--the beaming passion-flower of earth! Who will belie itscaptivating beauty, who will not thank the Creator that he gave it tothe children of earth? But ah! I will exclaim to all those who drink ofits nectar, and to those who must do without it--'There are flowerswhich are as noble as this, and which are less in danger than it ofbeing paled by the frosts of the earth--flowers from whose chalicesalso you may suck life from the life of the Eternal!'

"Ah! if we only understood how near to us Providence has placed thefountains of our happiness--if we had only understood this from the daysof our childhood upwards, acted upon it, and profited by it, our liveswould then seldom lead through dry wildernesses! Happy are thosechildren whose eyes are early opened by parents and home to the richactivity of life. They will then experience what sweetness and joy andpeace can flow out of family relationships, out of the heartfelt unionbetween brothers and sisters, between parents and children: and theywill experience how these relations, carefully cherished in youth, willbecome blessings for our maturer years. 

"You pray me to speak of my home and my family. But when I begin withthis subject, who can say, Ida, whether I shall know how to leave off!This subject is so rich to me, so dear--and yet how weak will not mydescription be, how lifeless in comparison with the reality!

"The dwelling-house--which may be said to have the same relation to homeas the body has to the soul--arisen, now out of its ashes, stands on thesame place on which, twelve years ago, it was burnt down. I wish you hadbeen with me yesterday in the library at breakfast. It was Leonore'sbirthday, and the family had occasioned her a surprise by a little giftwhich was exactly according to her taste--ornament combined withconvenience. It was an insignificant gift--wherefore then did it give usall so much pleasure? wherefore were there sweet tears in her piouseyes, and in ours also? We were all so still, and yet we felt that wewere very happy--happy because we mutually loved one another, andmutually pleased one another so much. The sun shone at that time intothe room--and see, Ida! this sunbeam which shines day by day into thehouse is the best image of its state; it is that which chases hence alldarkness, and turns all shadows into the glorification of its light!

"I will now, lively Ida, talk to you some little about the daughters ofthe house, and in order that you may not find my picture toosentimental, I will introduce first to you--'Honour to whom honour isdue!'--

 'OUR ELDEST, '

well known for industry, morality, moral lecturing, cathedral airs, andmany good properties. She married eleven years ago upon a much smallerthan common capital of worldly wealth; but both she and her husband knewhow to turn their pound to account, and so, by degrees, their house, under her careful hands, came to be what people call a well-to-do house. 

"Eight wild Jacobis during this time sprung up in the house withoutbringing about any revolution in it, so good were the morals which theydrew in with the mother's milk. I call them the 'Berserkers, ' becausewhen I last saw them they were perfect little monsters of strength andswiftness, and because we shall rely upon their prowess to overturncertain planks--of which more anon; on which account I will inspire themand their mother beforehand with a certain old-gothic ambition. 

"So now! After the married couple had kept school eleven years--heinstructing the boys in history, Latin, and such like; and she washing, combing, and moralising the same, and in fact, becoming a mother to manya motherless boy, it pleased the mercy of the Almighty to call them--notdirectly to heaven, but through his angel the Consistorium to thepastoral care of the rural parish adjoining this town--the highest goalof their wishes ever since they began to have wishes one with another. Their approaching journey here has given rise to great pleasure--it ishard to say in which of the two families the greatest. Thus, then, Louise will become a pastor's wife--perhaps soon also an archdeacon's, and then she arrives at the desired situation in which she can impartmoral lectures with power--of which sister Petrea might have the benefitof a good part, and pay it back with interest. 

"But the moral lectures of our eldest have a much milder spirit thanformerly, which is owing to the influence of Jacobi; for it has occurredin their case, as in the case of many another happily-married couple, they have ennobled one another; and it is a common saying in our family, that she without him would not have become what she now is, neitherwould he have been without her what he now is. 

"The Rose of the Family, the daughter Eva, had once in her life a greatsorrow--a bitter conflict; but she came forth victorious. True it isthat an angel stood by her side and assisted her. Since then she haslived for the joy of her family and her friends, beautiful, and amiable, and happy, and has from time to time rejected lovers; but she may soonbe put out of the position to continue this course. I said that an angelstood beside her in the bitter conflict. There was a time when thisangel was an ugly, uncomfortable girl, a trouble to herself, andproperly beloved by none. But there is no one in the family now who ismore beloved or more in favour than she is. Never, through the power ofGod, did there take place a greater change than in her. Now it gives onepleasure to look at her and to be near her. Her features, it is true, have not improved themselves, nor has her complexion become particularlyred-and-white; but she has become lovely, lovely from the heartfeltexpression of affection and intelligence; beautiful from the quiet, unpretending grace of her whole being. Her only pretension is that shewill serve all and help all; and thus has she attached every one, bydegrees, to her, and she is become the heart, the peace of the house;and, for herself, she has struck deep root down into the family, and isbecome happy through all these charms. She has attached herself, in theclosest manner, to her sister Eva, and these two could not liveseparated from each other. 

"You know the undertaking which these two sisters, while yet young, commenced together. You know also how well it succeeded; how it obtainedconfidence and stability, and how it won universal respect for itsconductors, and how also, after a course of ten years--independent ofthis institution--they had realised a moderate income; so that they can, if they are so disposed, retire from it, and it will still continue toprosper under the direction of Annette P. , who was taken as assistantfrom the beginning, and who in respect of character and ability hasproved herself a person of rare worth. The name of the sisters Frankstood estimably at the head of this useful establishment; but it is aquestion whether it would have prospered to such an extent, whether itwould have developed itself so beautifully and well without theassistance of a person who, however, has carefully concealed hisactivity from the eye of the public, and whose name, for that reason, was never praised. Without Assessor Munter's unwearied care andassistance--so say the sisters--the undertaking could never have goneforward. What a wonderful affectionate constancy lies in the soul ofthis man! He has been, and is still, the benefactor of our family; butif you would see and hear him exasperated, tell him so, and see how hequarrels with all thanks to himself. The whole city is now deploringthat it is about to lose him. He is going to reside on his estate in thecountry, for it is impossible that he could sustain much longer the wayin which he is at present overworked both night and day. His health hasfor some time evidently declined, and we rejoice that he can now takesome rest, by which he may regain new strength. We all love him from ourhearts; but one of us has set on foot a plot to oblige another of usto--ally herself with him, and therefore our good Assessor is nowexposed to a secret proceeding, which--but I forget that I was to writeabout the daughters of the family. 

"There is a peculiar little world in the house--a world into whichnothing bad can enter--where live flowers, birds, music, and Gabriele. The morning would lose its sweetest charms, if during the sameGabriele's birds and flowers did not play a part, and the eveningtwilight would be duskier if it were not enlivened by Gabriele's guitarand songs. Her flower-stand has extended itself by degrees into anorangery--not large to be sure, but yet large enough to shelter abeautiful vine, which is now covered with grapes, and many beautiful andrare plants also, so as to present to the family a little Italy, wherethey may enjoy all the charms of the south, in the midst of a northernwinter. A covered way leads from the dwelling-house down into theorangery, and it is generally there that in winter they take theirafternoon coffee. The aviary is removed thither; and there upon a tablecovered with a green cloth, lie works on botany, together with thewritings of the Swedish gardening society, which often contain suchinteresting articles. There stand two comfortable armed chairs, on whichthe most magnificent birds and flowers are worked, you can easilyimagine for whom. There my mother sits gladly, and reads or looks at her'little lady' (she never grows out of this appellation) as she tends herflowers in the sun, or plays with her tame birds. One may say, in fact, that Gabriele strews the evening of her mother's days with flowers. 

"A man dear to the Swedish heart has said, 'that the grand naturalfeature of northern life is a conquered winter, ' and this appliesequally to life individually, to family life, and to that of humannature. It so readily freezes and grows stiff, snow so readily fallsupon the heart; and winter makes his power felt as much within aswithout the house. In order to keep it warm within, in order that lifemay flourish and bloom, it is needful to preserve the holy fireeverburning. Love must not turn to ashes and die out; if it do, then allis labour and heaviness, and one may as well do nothing but--sleep. Butif fire be borrowed from heaven, this will not happen; then will houseand heart be warm, and life bloom incessantly, and a thousand causeswill become rich sources of joy to all. If it be so within thehouse--then may it snow without--then winter thou mayst do thy worst!

"But I return to Gabriele, whose lively wit and joyous temper, united toher affectionate and innocent heart, make her deservedly the favouriteof her parents, and the joy of every one. She asserts continually herown good-for-nothingness, her uselessness, and incorrigible love to asweet '_far niente_;' but nobody is of her opinion in this respect, fornobody can do without her, and one sees that when it is necessary, shecan be as decided and as able as any one need be. It is now some timesince Gabriele made any charades. I almost fancy that the cause of thisis a certain Baron L. , who was suspected for a long time of having setfire to a house, and who now is suspected of a design of setting fire toa heart, and who, with certain words and glances, has put all sorts ofwhims into her head--I will not say heart. 

"And so then we have nothing bad to say of 'this Petrea, ' as one of thefriends of the house still calls her, but no longer in anger. ThisPetrea has had all kind of botherations in the world: in the first placewith her own nose, with which she could not get into conceit, and thenwith various other things, as well within her as without her, and for along time it seemed as if her own world would never come forth out ofchaos. 

"It has however. With eyes full of grateful tears I will dare to saythis, and some time I may perhaps more fully explain how this has beendone. And blessed be the home which has turned back her wandering steps, has healed the wounds of her heart, and has offered her a peacefulhaven, an affectionate defence, where she has time to rest after thestorms, and to collect and to know herself. Without this home, withoutthis influence, Petrea certainly might have become a witch, and not, asnow, a tolerably reasonable person. 

"You know my present activity, which, whilst it conducts me deeper intolife, discovers to me more beauty, more poetry, than I had everconceived of it in the dreams of my youth. Not merely from this cause, although greatly owing to it, a spring has began to blossom for me onthe other side of my thirty years, which, were it ever to wither, wouldbe from my own fault. And if even still a painful tear may be shed overpast errors or present faults; if the longing after what is yetunattainably better, purer, and brighter, may occasion many a pang--whatmatters it? What matter if the eye-water burn, so that the eye onlybecome clear; if heaven humiliate, so that it only draw us upwards?

"One of Petrea's means of happiness is, to require very few of thetemporal things of earth. She regards such things as nearly related tothe family of illusions, and will, on that account, have as little aspossible to do with them. And thus has she also the means of obtainingfor herself many a hearty and enduring pleasure. I will not, however, beanswerable for her not very soon being taken by a frenzy of giving afeast up in her garret, and thereby producing all kinds of illusions;such, for example, as the eating little cakes, the favourite illusion ofmy mother, and citron-soufflé, the almost perfect earthly felicity of'our eldest, ' in which a reconciliation skål with the frenzy-feast mightbe proposed to her beloved 'eldest. '

"Would you now make a _summa summarum_ of Petrea's state, it standsthus: that which was a fountain of disquiet in her is now become afountain of quiet. She believes in the actuality of life, and in her ownpart therein. She does not allow her peace to be disturbed by accidentaltroubles, be they from within or from without; she calls themmist-clouds, passing storms, after which the sun will come forth again. And should her little garret tumble to pieces one of these days, shewould regard even that as a passing misfortune, and hold herself ready, in all humility--to mount up yet a little higher. 

"But enough of Petrea and her future ascension. 

"Yet one daughter dwelt in the family, and her lovely image lives stillin the remembrance of all, but a mourning veil hangs over it; for sheleft home, but not in peace. She was not happy, and for many years herlife is wrapped in darkness. People think that she is dead; her friendshave long believed so, and mourned her as such; but one among thembelieves it not. _I_ do not believe that she is dead. I have a strongpresentiment that she will return; and it would gladden me to show herhow dear she is to me. I have built plans for her future with us, and Iexpect her continually, or else a token where I may be able to find her;and be it in Greenland or in Arabia Deserta whence her voice calls me, Iwill find out a way to her. 

"I would that I could now describe to you the aged pair, to whom all inthe house look up with love and reverence, who soon will have been awedded couple forty years, and who appear no longer able to live the onewithout the other--but my pen is too weak for that. I will only ventureupon a slight outline sketch. My father is nearly seventy years old--butdo you think he indulges himself with rest? He would be extremelydispleased if he were to sleep longer in a morning than usual: he risesevery morning at six, it being deeply impressed upon him to lose aslittle of life as possible. It is unpleasant to him that his decliningsight compels him now to less activity. He likes that we should readaloud to him in an evening, and that--romances. My mother smilinglytakes credit to herself for having seduced him to that kind of reading;and he confesses, with smiles, that it is really useful for old people, because it contributes to preserve the heart young. For the rest, he isin all respects equally, perhaps more, good, more noble-hearted thanever; and from that cause he is to us equally respect-inspiring anddear. Oh, Ida, it is a happy feeling to be able intrinsically to honourand love those who have given us life!

"And now must I, with a bleeding heart, throw a mournful shadow overthe bright picture of the house, and that shadow comes at the same timefrom a beautiful image--from my mother! I fear, I fear, that she is onthe way to leave us! Her strength has been declining for two years. Shehas no decided malady, but she becomes visibly weaker and feebler, andno remedy, as yet, has shown itself availing for her. They talk now ofthe air of next spring--of Selzer-water, and a summer journey;--myfather would travel to the world's end with her--they hope withcertainty that she will recover; she hopes so herself, and sayssmilingly yes, to the Selzer-water, and the journey, and all that wepropose; says she would gladly live with us, that she is happy withus, --yet nevertheless there is a something about her, and even in hersmiles, that tells me that she herself does not cherish full faith inthe hope which she expresses. Ah! when I see daily her still palercountenance; the unearthly expression in her gentle features--when Iperceive her ever slower gait, as she moves about, still arranging thehouse and preparing little gratifications for her family; then comes thethought to me that she perhaps will soon leave us, and it sometimes isdifficult to repress my tears. 

"But why should I thus despair? Why not hope like all the rest? Ah, Iwill hope, and particularly for the sake of him who, without her, couldno more be joyful on earth. For the present she is stronger and livelierthan she has been for a long time. The arrival of Louise and her familyhave contributed to this, as also another day of joy which isapproaching, and which has properly reference to my father. She goesabout now with such joy of heart, with the almanack in her hand, andprepares everything, and thinks of everything for the joyful festival. My father has long wished to possess a particular piece of building landwhich adjoins our little garden, in order to lay it out for a great andgeneral advantage; but he has sacrificed so much for his children, thathe has nothing remaining wherewith to carry out his favourite plan. Hischildren in the mean time have, during the last twelve years, laid by asum together, and now have latterly borrowed together what was wantingfor the purchase of the land. On the father's seventieth birthdaytherefore, with the joint help of the 'Berserkers, ' will the woodenfence be pulled down, and the genius of the new place, represented bythe graceful figure of Gabriele, will deliver over to him thepurchase-deed, which is made out in his name. How happy he will be! Oh, it makes us all happy to think of it! How he will clear away, and dig, and plant! and how it will gladden and refresh his old age. May he liveso long that the trees which he plants may shake their leafy branchesover his head, and may their rustling foretel to him the blessing, whichhis posterity to the third and fourth generation will pronounce upon hisbeneficent activity. 

"I would speak of the circle of friends which has ever enclosed our homemost cordially, of the new Governor Stejernhök and his wife, whom welike so much, and whose removal here was particularly welcome to myfather, who almost sees a son in him. I would speak also of the servantsof the house, who are yet more friends than servants--but I fearextending my letter to too great a length. 

"Perhaps you blame me secretly for painting my picture in colours toouniformly bright, perhaps you will ask, 'Come there then not into thishouse those little knocks, disturbances, rubs, overhastinesses, stupidities, procrastinations, losses, and whatever those spiritualmosquitoes may be called, which occasion by their stings irritation, unquiet, and vexation, and whose visits the very happiest familiescannot avoid?'

"Yes, certainly. They come, but they vanish as quickly as they come, andnever leave a poisonous sting behind, because a universal remedy isemployed against them, which is called 'Forgive, forget, amend!' andwhich the earlier applied the better, and which makes also the visits ofthese ugly fiends of rarer occurrence; they come, indeed, in pure andmild atmospheres never properly forth. 

"Would you, dearest Ida, be convinced of the truth of the picture, comehere and see for yourself. We should all like it so much. Come, and letour house provide for you the divertisement, perhaps also the rest whichis so needful to your heart. Come, and believe me, Ida, that when oneobserves the world from somewhat of an elevation--as for instance, agarret--one sees illusions like mist, passing over the earth, but aboveit heaven vaulting itself in eternal brightness. "

CHAPTER II. 

A MORNING HOUR

"Good morning!" said Jeremias Munter, as with his pockets full of bookshe entered Petrea's garret, which was distinguished from all other roomsmerely by its perfect simplicity and its lack of all ornament. A glasscontaining beautiful fresh flowers was its only luxury. 

"Oh, so heartily welcome!" exclaimed Petrea as she looked with beamingeyes on her visitor and on his valuable appendages. 

"Yes, to-day, " said he, "I am of opinion that I am welcome! Here's atreat for Miss Petrea. See here, and see here!"

So saying, the Assessor laid one book after another upon the table, naming at the same time their contents. They belonged to that class ofbooks which open new worlds to the eye of reflecting minds. Petrea tookthem up with a delight which can only be understood by such as havesought and thirsted after the same fountains of joy, and who have foundthem. The Assessor rejoiced quietly in her delight, as she lookedthrough the books and talked about them. 

"How good, how cordially good of you, " said Petrea, "to think about me. But you must see that I also have expected you to-day;" and with eyesthat beamed with the most heartfelt satisfaction she took out of acupboard two fine china-plates, on one of which lay cakes of lightwheaten bread, and on the other, piled up, the most magnificent grapesreposing amid a garland of their own leaves, which were tastefullyarranged in various shades against the golden border of the plate. ThesePetrea placed upon a little table in the window, so that the sun shoneupon them. 

The Assessor regarded them with the eye of a Dutch fruit painter, andappeared to rejoice himself over a beautiful picture after his ownmanner. 

"You must not only look at your breakfast, but you must eat it, " saidthe lively Petrea; "the bread is home-baked, and--Eva has arranged thegrapes on the plate and brought them up here. "

"Eva!" said he, "now, she could not know that I was coming here to-day?"

"And precisely because she thought so as well as I, would she provideyour breakfast. " With these words Petrea looked archly at the Assessor, who did not conceal a pleasurable sensation--broke off a little grape, seated himself, and--said nothing. 

Petrea turned herself to her books: "Oh, " said she, "why is life soshort, when there is such an infinite deal to learn? Yet this is notright, and it evidences ignorance to imagine the time of learninglimited; besides, this remark about the shortness of time and the lengthof art proceeds from the heathen writer Hippocrates. But let us praiseGod for the hope, for the certainty, that we may be scholars to alleternity. Ah, Uncle Munter, I rejoice myself heartily over theindustrial spirit of our age! It will make it easy for the masses toclothe and feed themselves, and then will they begin also to live formind. For true is that sentiment, which is about two thousand years old, 'When common needs are satisfied, man turns himself to that which ismore universal and exalted. ' Thus when the great week of the world ispast, the Sabbath will commence, in which a people of quiet worshipperswill spread themselves over the earth, no more striving after decayingtreasures, but seeking after those which are eternal; a people whoselife will be to observe, to comprehend, and to adore, revering theirCreator in spirit and in truth. Then comes the day of which the angelssung 'Peace on earth!'"

"Peace on earth!" repeated Jeremias in a slow and melancholy voice, "when comes it? It must first enter into the human heart; and there, there live so many demons, so much disquiet and painful longing--butwhat--what is amiss now?"

"Ah, my God!" exclaimed Petrea wildly, "she lives! she lives!"

"What her? who lives? No, really Petrea all is not right with you, " saidthe Assessor, rising. 

"See! see!" cried Petrea, trembling with emotion, and showing to theAssessor a torn piece of paper, "see, this lay in the book!"

"Well, what then? It is indeed torn from a sepia picture--a handstrewing roses on a grave, I believe. Have I not seen this somewherealready?"

"Yes, certainly; yes, certainly! It is the girl by the rose-bush whichI, as a child, gave to Sara! Sara lives! see, here has she written!"

The back of the picture seemed to have been scrawled over by a child'shand; but in one vacant spot stood these words, in Sara's own remarkablybeautiful handwriting:

 No rose on Sara's grave! Oh Petrea! if thou knew'st----

The sentence was unfinished, whilst several drops seemed to prove thatit had been closed by tears. 

"Extraordinary!" said the Assessor: "these books which I purchasedyesterday were bought in U. Could she be there? But----"

"Certainly! certainly she is there, " exclaimed Petrea, "look at the bookin which the picture lay--see, on the first page is the name, SaraSchwartz--although it has been erased. Oh! certainly she is in U. , orthere we can obtain intelligence of her! Oh, Sara, my poor Sara! Shelives, but perhaps in want, in sorrow! I will be with her to-day if shebe in U. !"

"That Miss Petrea will hardly manage, " said the Assessor, "unless shecan fly. It is one hundred and two (English) miles from here to U. "

"Alas, that my father should at this time be absent, should have thecarriage with him; otherwise he would have gone with me! But he has anold chaise, I will take it----"

"Very pretty, indeed, " returned he, "for a lady to be travelling alonein an old chaise, especially when the roads are spoiled with rain;--andsee what masses of clouds are coming up with the south wind--you'll havesoaking rain the whole day through in the chaise. "

"And if it rain pokers, " interrupted Petrea, warmly, "I must go. Oh, heavens! she was indeed my sister, she is so yet, and she shall not callon me in vain! I will run down to my mother in this moment and----"Petrea took her bonnet and cloak in her hand. 

"Calm yourself a little, Miss Petrea, " he said; "I tell you, you couldnot travel in this way. The chaise would not hold together. Alas, I havetried it myself--you could not go in it!"

"Now then, " exclaimed Petrea determinately, "I will go; and if I cannotgo I'll creep--but go I will!"

"Is that then your firm determination?"

"My firm and my last. "

"Well, then, I must creep with you!" said the Assessor, smiling, "if itbe only to see how it goes with you. I'll go home now, but will be backin an hour's time. Promise me only to have patience for so long, and notwithout me to set off--creep off, I should say!"

The Assessor vanished, and Petrea hastened down to her mother andsisters. 

But before her communications and consultations were at an end, a lighttravelling carriage drew up at the door. The Assessor alighted from it, came in, and offered Petrea his arm. Soon again was he seated in thecarriage, Petrea by his side, and was protesting vehemently against thebag of provisions, and the bottle of wine, which Leonore thrust in, spite of his protestations, and so away they went. 

CHAPTER III. 

ADVENTURES. 

It was now the second time in their life that the Assessor and Petreawere out together in such a manner, and now as before it seemed as if nofavourable star would light their journey, for scarcely had they set outwhen it began to rain, and clouds as heavy and dark as lead gatheredtogether above their heads. It is rather depressing when in answer tothe inquiring glances which one casts upwards at the commencement of animportant journey, to be met by a heaven like this. Other omens alsolittle less fortunate added themselves; the horses pranced about as ifthey were unwilling to go farther, and an owl took upon itself to attendthe carriage, set itself on the tree-branches and points of the palingsby the wayside, and then on the coming up of the carriage flew a littlefarther, there to await its coming up at a little distance. 

As the travellers entered a wood, where on account of the deep road theywere compelled to travel slowly, they saw on the right hand a littleblack-grey old woman step forth, as ugly, witch, and Kobold like inappearance as an old woman ever can be. She stared at the travellers fora moment, and then vanished among the trunks of the trees. 

The Assessor shuddered involuntarily at the sight of her, and remarked, "What a difference is there between woman and woman--the loveliest uponearth and the most horrible is yet--woman!"

After he had seen the old witch he became almost gloomy. In the meantimethe owl vanished with her; perhaps, because "birds of a feather flocktogether. "

Yet it may be that I am calumniating all this time the little old motherin the most sinful manner; she may be the most good-tempered woman inthe world. It is well that our Lord understands us better than we doourselves. 

All this time Petrea sate silent, for however enlightened andunprejudiced people may be, they never can perfectly free themselvesfrom the impression of certain circumstances, such as presentiments, omens, apparitions, and forebodings, which, like owls on noiselesswings, have flown through the world ever since the time of Adam, whenthey first shouted their ominous "Too-who! too-whit!" People know thatHobbes, who denied the resurrection in the warmest manner, never couldsleep in the neighbourhood of a room in which there had been a corpse. Petrea, who had not the least resemblance in the world to Hobbes, wasnot inclined to gainsay anything within the range of probability. Hertemperament naturally inclined her to superstition; and like most peoplewho sit still a great deal, she felt always at the commencement of ajourney a degree of disquiet as to how it would go on. But on this day, under the leaden heaven, and the influence of discomforting forebodings, this unquiet amounted to actual presentiment of evil; whether this hadreference to Sara or to herself she knew not; but she was disposed toimagine the latter, and asked herself, as she often had done, whethershe were prepared for any occasion which might separate her for everfrom all those whom she loved on earth. By this means Petrea mostlivingly discovered--discovered almost with horror, how strongly shewas fettered to her earthly existence, how dear life had become to her. 

All human souls have their heights, but then they have also theirmorasses, their thickets, their pits (I will not speak of abysses, because many souls are too shallow to have these). A frequent mountingupwards, or a more constant abode upon these heights, is the stipulatedcondition of man's proximity to heaven. Petrea's soul was an unevenground, as is the case with most people; but there existed in hernature, as we have before seen, a most determined desire to ascendupwards; and at this time, in which she found her affections too muchbound to earthly things, she strove earnestly to ascend up to one ofthose heights where every limited attraction vanishes before moreextended views, and where every fettered affection will become free, andwill revive in what is loftier. The attempt succeeded--succeeded bymaking her feel that whatever was most valuable in this life wasintimately connected with that life which only first begins when thisends. Her lively imagination called forth, one after another, a greatvariety of scenes of misfortune and death; and she felt that in themoment before she resigned life, her heart would be able to raise itselfwith the words, "God be praised in all eternity. "

With this feeling, and convinced by it that her present undertaking wasgood and necessary, whatever its consequences might be, Petrea's heartbecame light and free. She turned herself with lively words and looks toher travelling companion, and drew him by degrees into a conversationwhich was so interesting to them both, that they forgot weather andways, forebodings, evil omens, and preparations for death. The journeyprospered as well as any autumn journey could prosper. Not a trace ofdanger met them by the way. The wind slumbered in the woods; and in thepublic-houses they only heard one and another sleepy peasant open hismouth with a "devil take me!"

In the forenoon of the following day our travellers arrived happily atU. Petrea scarcely allowed herself time to take any refreshments beforeshe commenced her inquiries. The result of all her and the Assessor'slabours we give shortly thus:

It soon became beyond a doubt to them that Sara, together with a littledaughter, had been in the city, and had resided in the very inn in whichPetrea and the Assessor now were, although they travelled under aforeign name. She was described as being in the highest degree weak andsickly; and, as might be expected in her circumstances, it appeared thatshe had besought the host to sell some books for her, which he had done. One of these books it was which, with its forgotten mark, had falleninto the hands of Petrea. Sara, on account of her debility, had beencompelled to remain several days in that place, but she had been gonethence probably a week; and they saw by the Day-book[21] that it had beenher intention to proceed thence to an inn which lay on the road toPetrea's native place; not, however, on the road by which they hadtravelled to U. , but upon one which was shorter, although much worse. 

Sara then also was on her way home--yes, perhaps might be there already!This thought was an indescribable consolation for Petrea's heart, whichfrom the account she had received of Sara's condition, was anxious inthe highest degree. But when she thought on the long time which hadpassed since Sara's journey from the city, she was filled with anxiety, and feared that Sara might be ill upon the road. 

Willingly would Petrea have turned back again on the same evening toseek out traces of Sara; but care for her old friend prevented her fromdoing more than speaking of it. The Assessor, indeed, found himselfunwell, and required rest. The cold and wet weather had operatedprejudicially upon him, both mind and body. It was adopted asunquestionable that they could not continue the journey till thefollowing morning. 

The Assessor had told Petrea that this was his birthday, and perhaps itwas this thought which caused him to be uncommonly melancholy the wholeday. Petrea, who was infinitely desirous of cheering him, hastened, whilst he was gone out to seek an acquaintance, to prepare a littlefestival for his return. 

With flowers and foliage which Petrea obtained, heaven knows how!--butwhen people are resolutely bent on anything they find out the means todo it--with these, then, with lights, a good fire, with a table coveredwith his favourite dishes and such like, although in a somewhatdisagreeably public-house room, such a picture of comfort andpleasantness was presented as the Assessor much loved. 

Fathers and mothers, and all the members of happy families, areaccustomed to birthday festivals, flower-garlands, and well-coveredtables; but nobody had celebrated the birthday of the Assessor duringhis solitary wandering; he had not been indulged with those littleflower-surprises of life--if one may so call them; hence it happenedthat he entered from the dark, wet street into this festal room with anexclamation of astonishment and heartfelt pleasure. 

Petrea, on her part, was inexpressibly cordial, and was quite happy whenshe saw the pains which she had taken to entertain her old friendsucceed so well. The two spent a pleasant evening together. They madeeach other mutually acquainted with the evil omens and the impressionswhich they had occasioned, and bantered one another a little thereon;but decided positively that such fore-tokenings for the mostpart--betoken nothing at all. 

As they separated for the night the Assessor pressed Petrea's hand withthe assurance that very rarely had a day given him such a joyousevening. Grateful for these words, and grateful for the hope of soonfinding again the lost and wept friend of her youth, Petrea went torest, but the Assessor remained up late--midnight saw him still writing. 

Man and woman! There is a deal, especially in novels, said about man andwoman, as of separate beings. However that may be, human beings are theyboth--and as human beings, as morally sentient and thinking creatures, they influence one another for life. Their ways and means are different;and it is this very difference which, by mutual benefits, and mutualendeavours to sweeten life to one another, produces what is so beautifuland so perfect. 

The clearest sun brightened the following morning; but the eyes of theAssessor were troubled, as if he had enjoyed but little repose. Whilsthe and Petrea were breakfasting, he was called out to inspect somethingrelative to the carriage. 

Was it now the hereditary sin of mother Eve, or was it any other causewhich induced Petrea at this moment to approach the table on which theAssessor's money lay, together with papers ready to be put into atravelling writing-case. Enough! she did it--she did certainly what noupright reader will pardon her for doing, quickly ran her eyes over oneof the papers which seemed just lately to have received from the penimpressions of thought, and she took it. Shortly afterwards the Assessorentered, and as it was somewhat late, he hastily put together hispapers, and they set off on their journey. 

The weather was glorious, and Petrea rejoiced like--nay, even more thana child, over the objects which met her eyes, and which, after the rain, stood in the bright sunshine, as if in the glory of a festive-day. Theworld was to her now more than ever a magic ring; not the perplexing, half-heathenish, but the purely Christian, in which everything, everymoment has its signification, even as every dewdrop receives its beamingpoint of light from the splendour of the sun. Autumn was, above all, Petrea's favourite season, and its abundance now made her soul overflowwith joyful thoughts. It is the time in which the earth gives a feast toall her children, and joyous and changing scenes were represented by thewaysides. Here the corn-field raised to heaven its golden sheaves, andthe harvesters sang; there, around the purple berries of theservice-tree, circled beautiful flocks of the twittering silktails;round the solitary huts, the flowering potato-fields told that the fruitwas ripe, and merry little barefooted children sprang into the wood togather bilberries. Petrea thanked heaven in her heart for all theinnocent joys of earth. She thought of her home, of her parents, of hersisters, of Sara, who would soon again be one of their circle, and ofhow she (Petrea) would cherish her, and care for her, and reconcile herto life and to happiness. In the blessed, beautiful morning hour, allthoughts clothed themselves in light. Petrea felt quite happy, and thejoke which she thought of playing on her friend the Assessor with thestolen piece of paper, contributed not a little to screw up her life'sspirit to greater liveliness. "From the fulness of the heart the mouthspeaketh, " and Petrea involuntarily influenced her travelling companionso far that they both amused themselves with bombarding little childrenon the waysides with apples and pears, whereby they were not at allterrified. 

They had now taken the same road upon which Sara had travelled, and inthe first inn at which they stopped, their hopes were strengthened; forSara had been there, and had taken thence a horse to the nextpublic-house. All was on the way towards home. So continued it also atthe three following stations; but at the fifth, they suddenly lost alltraces of her. No one there had seen a traveller answering to herdescription, nor was her name to be found in the Travellers' Day-book. No! a great uneasiness for Petrea. After some deliberation, she and theAssessor determined to return to the public-house whence they were justcome, in order to discover clearly in what direction Sara had gonethence. 

In the mean time the evening had come on, and the sun was descending asour friends were passing through one of the gloomiest woods in Sweden, and one in such ill-report that not long ago a writer speaking of it, said, "The forest shrouds memories as awful as itself, and monuments ofmurder stand by the wayside. Probably the mantle of the mountains fallsnot now in such thick folds as formerly, but yet there still are valleyswhere the stroke of the axe has never yet been heard, and rocky rangeswhich have never yet been smitten by the rays of the sun. "

"Here two men murdered the one the other, " said the postilion with thegayest air in the world, whilst the carriage stopped to give the horsesbreath, on account of the heaviness of the road, and as he spoke hepointed with his whip to a heap of twigs and pieces of wood which lay tothe left of the road, directly before the travellers, and whichpresented a repulsive aspect. It is customary for every passer-by tothrow a stone or a piece of wood upon such a blood-stained spot, andthus the monument of murder grows under the continued curse of society. Thus it now stands there, hateful and repulsive amid the beautifulfir-trees, and it seemed as if the earth had given forth the ugliest ofits mis-shaped boughs, and the most distorted of its twisted roots, wherewith to build up the heap. From the very midst of this abomination, however, a wild-rose had sprung forth and shot upwards its living twigsfrom among the dry boughs, whilst, like fresh blood-drops above thepile, shone its berries illuminated by the sun, which now in its descentthrew a path of light over the broad road. 

"When this wild-rose is full of flowers, " said Jeremias, as he regardedit with his expressive glance, "it must awaken the thought, that thatwhich the state condemns with justice, a Higher Power can cover with theroses of his love. "

The sun withdrew his beams. The carriage set itself again in motion, butat the very moment when the horses passed the heap, they shyed soviolently that the carriage was backed into a ditch and overturned. 

"Farewell life!" cried Petrea, internally; but before she herself knewhow, she was out of the carriage, and found herself standing not at allthe worse upon the soft heather. With the Assessor, however, it did notfare so well; a severe blow on the right leg made it impossible for himto support himself upon it without great suffering. His old servant, who had acted as coachman on the journey, lay in a fainting fit ata few paces from him, bleeding profusely from a wound in the head, whilst the little post-boy stood by his horses and cried. Time andsituation were not the most agreeable. But Petrea felt herself afterthe fright of the first moment perfectly calm and collected. By thehelp of the rain-water, which was there in abundance, she brought thefainting man back to consciousness, and bound up his head with herpocket-handkerchief. She then helped him to sit up--to stand he was notable from dizziness. Soon sate master and man by each other, with theirbacks by a strong fir-tree, and looked sadly troubled; for although theAssessor was far more concerned on account of his servant than himself, and asserted that his own accident was a mere trifle, still he was quitepale from the pain which it occasioned him. What was to be done? Couldthe carriage have been raised out of the ditch and the two wounded menput into it, Petrea would have placed herself on the coach-box and havedriven them as well as anybody; nothing could be easier, she thought;but the accomplishing of the two first conditions was the difficulty, and in the present circumstances an impossibility, for our poor Petrea'sarms and hands were not able to second her good-will and courage. Thepost-boy said that at about three-quarters of a mile (English) there laya peasant's hut in the wood by the road side; but it was impossible toinduce him to run there, or under any condition to leave his horses. 

"Let us wait, " said the Assessor, patiently and calmly, "probablysomebody will soon come by from whom we can beg assistance. " Theywaited, but nobody came, and every moment the shades became darker; itseemed as if people avoided this horrible wood at this hour. 

Petrea, full of anxiety for her old friend, if he must remain muchlonger on the damp ground, and in the increasing coolness of evening, determined with herself what she would do. She wrapped up the Assessorand his old servant in every article of clothing of which she could gainpossession, amongst which was her own cloak, rejoicing that this wasunobserved by her friend, and then said to him decidedly, "Now I gomyself to obtain help! I shall soon be back again!" And withoutregarding the prohibitions, prayers, and threats, with which heendeavoured to recal her, she ran quickly away in the direction of thehut, as the post-boy had described it. She hastened forward with quicksteps, endeavouring to remove all thoughts of personal danger, and onlyto strengthen herself by the hope of procuring speedy help for herfriend. 

The haste with which she went compelled her after some time to standstill to recover breath. The quick motion which set her blood in rapidcirculation, the freshness of the air, the beautiful and magnificentrepose of the wood, diffused through her, almost in opposition to herown will and heart, an irresistible feeling of satisfaction andpleasure, which however quickly left her as she heard a somethingcrackling in the wood. The wind it could not be? perhaps it was ananimal! Petrea held her panting breath. It crackled; itwhispered;--there were people in the wood! However bold, or moreproperly speaking, rash, Petrea might be at certain moments, her heartnow drew itself together, when she thought on her solitary, defencelesssituation, and on the scenes of horror for which this wood was sofearfully renowned. Beyond this, she was now no longer in those yearswhen one stands in life on a flying foot, careless and presumptuous:she had planted herself firmly in life; had her own quiet room; herpeaceful sphere of activity, which she now loved more than the mostbrilliant adventures in the world! It was not therefore to be wonderedat, that she recoiled tremblingly from the unlovely and hateful which isat home by the road sides. 

Petrea listened with a strongly beating heart; the rustling came nearerand nearer; for one moment she thought of concealing herself on theopposite side of the way, but in the next she boldly demanded "Who isthere?"

All was still. Petrea strained her eyes to discover some one in thedirection of the sound, but in vain: the wood was thick, and it hadbecome quite dark. Once again, exclaimed Petrea, "If any one be therelet him come to the help of unfortunate travellers!"

Even the heart of robbers, thought she, would be mollified byconfidence; and prayers for help might remove thoughts of murder. Therustling in the wood began afresh, and now were heard the voicesof--children. An indescribable sensation of joy went through Petrea'sheart. A whole army, with Napoleon at their head, could not at thismoment have given that feeling of security and protection which camefrom those children's voices; and soon came issuing from the wood twolittle barefooted human creatures, a boy and a girl, who stared onPetrea with astonishment. She quickly made herself acquainted with them, and they promised to conduct her to the cottage, which lay at a littledistance. On their way they gave Petrea bilberries out of their fullbirch-wood measure, and related to her that the reason of their beingout so late was, that they had been looking for the cow which was lostin the wood; that they should have driven her home, but had not beenable to find her; which greatly troubled the little ten-years-old girl, because, she said, the sick lady could not have any milk that evening. 

Whilst Petrea, led by her little guardian-angels, wandered through thewood, we will make a little flight, and relate what had occurred there afew days before. 

A few days before, a travelling-car drove along this road, in which satea lady and a little girl. As they came within sight of a small cottage, which with its blossoming potato-field looked friendly in the wood, thelady said to the peasant boy who drove, "I cannot go farther! Stop! Imust rest!" She dismounted, and crawled with his help to the cottage, and besought the old woman, whom she found there, for a glass of water, and permission to rest upon the bed for a moment. The voice which prayedfor this was almost inaudible, and the countenance deathly pale. Thelittle girl sobbed and cried bitterly. Scarcely had the poor invalidlaid herself upon the humble and hardly clean bed, when she fell into adeep stupor, from which she did not revive for three hours. 

On her return to consciousness she found that the peasant had taken herthings into the cottage; taken his horse out of the car, and left her. The invalid made several ineffectual attempts during three days to leavethe bed, but scarcely had she taken a few steps when she sunk back uponit; her lips trembled, and bitter tears flowed over her pale cheeks. Thefourth day she lay quite still; but in the afternoon besought the oldwoman to procure her an honest and safe person, who, for a suitable sum, would conduct the little girl to a place which would be made known tohim by a letter that would be given with her. The old woman proposed herbrother's son as a good man, and one to be relied on for this purpose, and promised in compliance with the prayer of the sick woman to seek himout that same day and speak with him; but as he lived at a considerabledistance she feared that she should only be able to return late in theevening. After she was gone, the invalid took paper and a lead pencil, and with a weak and trembling hand wrote as follows:

 "I cannot arrive--I feel it! I sink before I reach the haven. Oh, foster-parents, good sisters, have mercy on my little one, my child, who knocks at your door, and will deliver to you my humble, my last prayer! Give to her a warm home, when I am resting in my cold one! See, how good she looks! Look at her young countenance, and see that she is acquainted with want--she is not like her mother! I fancy her mild features resemble hers whose name she bears, and whose angelic image never has left my soul. 

 "Foster-mother, foster-father! good sisters! I had much to say, but can say only a little! Forgive me! Forgive me the grief which I have occasioned you! Greatly have I erred, but greatly also have I suffered. A wanderer have I been on the earth, and have had nowhere a home since I left your blessed roof! My way has been through the desert; a burning simoom has scorched, has consumed my cheek----

 "About to leave the world in which I have erred so greatly and suffered so much, I call now for your blessing. Oh, let me tell you that that Sara, which you once called daughter and sister, is yet not wholly unworthy! She is sunk deep, but she has endeavoured to raise herself; and your forms, like good angels, have floated around the path of her improvement. 

 "It will do your noble hearts good to know that she dies now repentant, but hopeful--she has fixed her humble hope upon the Father of Mercy. 

 "The hand of mercy cherished on earth the days of my childhood--later, it has lifted my dying head, and has poured into my heart a new and a better life; it has conducted me to hope in the mercy of heaven. Foster-father, thou who wast His image to me on earth, thou whom I loved much--gentle foster-mother, whose voice perhaps could yet call forth life in this cold breast--have mercy on my child--call it your child! and thanks and blessings be upon you!

 "It never was my intention to come, as a burden, into your house. No; I wished only to conduct my child to your door--to see it open to her, and then to go forth--go forth quietly and die. But I shall not reach so far! God guide the fatherless and the motherless to you!

 "And now farewell! I can write no more--it becomes dark before my eyes. I write these last words upon my knees. Parents, sisters, take my child to you! May it make you some time forget the errors of its mother! Pardon all my faults! I complain of no one. 

 "God reward you, and be merciful to me!

 "Sara. "

Sara folded her letter hastily, sealed it and directed it, and then, enfeebled by the exertion, sank down beside her sleeping child, kissedher softly, and whispered, "for the last time!" Her feet and hands werelike ice; she felt this icy coldness run through all her veins, anddiffuse itself over her whole body; her limbs stiffened; and it seemedto her as if a cold wind blew into her face. 

"It is death!" thought Sara; "my death-bed is lonesome and miserable;yet--I have deserved no better. " Her consciousness became ever darker;but in the depths of her soul combated still the last, perhaps thenoblest powers of life--suffering and prayer. At length they too alsobecame benumbed, but not for long, for new impressions waked suddenlythe slumbering life. 

It appeared to Sara as if angel voices had spoken and repeated her name, tender hands had rubbed her stiffened limbs with electrical fire; herfeet were pressed to a bosom that beat strongly; hot drops fell uponthem, and thawed the icy coldness. She felt a heart throbbing againsthers, and the wind of death upon her face vanished before warm summerbreath, kisses, tears. Oh! was it a dream? But the dream became evermore living and clear. Life, loving, affectionate, warm life, contendedwith death, and was the victor! "Sara, Sara!" cried a voice full of loveand anxiety, and Sara opened her eyes, and said, "Oh! Petrea, is ityou?"

Yes, indeed, it was our poor Petrea, whose distress at Sara's condition, and whose joy over her now returning life, can neither of them bedescribed. Sara took Petrea's hand, and conveyed it to her lips, and thehumility of this action, so unlike the former Sara, penetrated Petrea'sheart. 

"Give me something to drink, " prayed Sara, with a feeble voice. Petrealooked around for some refreshing liquid, but there was nothing to befound in the cottage excepting a jug containing a little muddy water;not a drop of milk, and the cow was lost in the wood! Petrea would havegiven her heart's blood for a few drops of wine, for she saw that Sarawas ready to die from feebleness. And now, with feelings which are notto be told, must she give Sara to drink from the muddy water, in which, however, to make it more refreshing, she bruised some bilberries. Sarathanked her for it as if it had been nectar. 

"Is there anywhere in this neighbourhood a place where one can meet withpeople, and obtain the means of life?" asked Petrea from her littleguide. 

The little guide knew of none excepting in the village, and in thepublic-house there they could obtain everything, "whatever they wished, "said the child; to be sure it was a good way there, but she knew afootpath through the wood by which they might soon reach it. 

Petrea did not stop thinking for a moment; and after she had encouragedSara to courage and hope, she set out most speedily with the littlenimble maiden on the way to the village. 

The girl went first: her white head-kerchief guided Petrea through theduskiness of the wood. But the footway which the girl trod so lightlyand securely, was an actual way of trial for Petrea. Now and thenfragments of her clothes were left hanging on the thick bushes; now abranch which shot outwards seized her bonnet and struck it flat; now shewent stumbling over tree-roots and stones, which, on account of thedarkness and the speed of her flight, she could not avoid; and now batsflew into her face. In vain did the wood now elevate itself moremajestically than ever around her; in vain, did the stars kindle theirlights, and send their beams into the deep gullies of the wood; in vainsang the waterfalls in the quiet evening as they fell from the rocks. Petrea had now no thought for the beauty of nature; and the lights whichsparkled from the village were to her a more welcome sight than all thesuns and stars in the firmament. 

More lights than common streamed in pale beams through the misty windowsof the public-house as Petrea came up to it. All was fermentation withinit as in a bee-hive; violins were playing; the _polska_ was beingdanced; women's gowns swung round, sweeping the walls; iron-heeled shoesbeat upon the floor; and the dust flew up to the ceiling. After Petreahad sought in vain for somebody outside the dancing-room, she wascompelled to go in, and then she saw instantly that there was a wedding. The gilded crown on the head of the bride wavered and trembled amid theattacks and the defence of the contending parties, for it was preciselythe hot moment of the Swedish peasant wedding, in which, as it is said, the crown is danced off the head of the bride. The married women wereendeavouring to vanquish and take captive the bride, whilst the girlswere, on their part, doing their utmost to defend and hold her back. Inthe other half of the great room, however, all went on more noisily andmore violently still, for there the married men strove to dance thebridegroom from the unmarried ones, and they pulled and tore and pushedunmercifully, amid shouts and laughter, whilst the _polska_ went on itswhirling measure. 

It would be almost at the peril of her life that a delicate lady shouldenter into such a tumult; but Petrea feared in this moment no otherdanger than that of not being able to make herself heard in this wilduproar. She called and demanded to speak with the host; but her voicewas perfectly swallowed up in the universal din. She then quickly turnedherself, amid the contending and round-about-swinging groups to the twomusicians, who were scraping upon their fiddles with a sort of frenzy, and beating time with their feet. Petrea caught hold of one of them bythe arm, and prayed him in God's name to leave off for a moment, forthat her business was of life and death. But they paid not the slightestattention to her; they heard not what she said; they played, and theothers danced with fury. 

"That is very mad!" thought Petrea, "but I will be madder still!" and sothinking, she threw down, upon the musicians, a table which stood nearthem covered with bottles and glasses. With this crash the music wassuddenly still. The pause in the music astonished the dancers; theylooked around them. Petrea took advantage of this moment, went into thecrowd and called for the host. The host, who was celebrating hisdaughter's wedding, came forward; he was a fat, somewhat pursy man, whoevidently had taken a glass too much. 

Petrea related summarily that which had happened; prayed for people toassist at the carriage, and for some wine and fine bread for an invalid. She spoke with warmth and determination; but nevertheless the hostdemurred, and the crowd, half intoxicated with drink and dancing, regarded her with a distrustful look, and Petrea heard it whisperedaround her--"The mad lady!" "It is the mad lady!" "No, no, it is notshe!" "Yes, it is she!"

And we must confess that Petrea's excited appearance, and the conditionof her toilet after the fatigues of her wandering, gave some occasionfor her being taken for a little crazy; this, and the circumstance ofher being mistaken for another person, may explain the disinclination toafford her assistance, which otherwise does not belong to the characterof the Swedish peasantry. 

Again Petrea exhorted host and peasant to contribute their help, andpromised befitting reward. 

The host set himself now in a commanding attitude, cleared his throat, and spoke with a self-satisfied air. 

"Yes, yes, " said he, "that's all right-good and handsome, but I shouldlike to see something of this befitting reward before I put myself outof the way about overturned carriages. In the end, maybe, one shall findneither one nor the other. One cannot believe everything that peoplesay!"

Petrea recollected with uneasiness that she had no money with her; she, however, let nothing of that be seen, but replied calmly andcollectedly, "You shall receive money when you come to the carriage. Butfor heaven's sake, follow me immediately; every moment's delay may costa life!"

The men looked undecidedly one on another; but no one stirred from theplace; a dull murmur ran through the crowd. Almost in despair, Petreaclasped her hands together and exclaimed, whilst tears streamed from hereyes, "Are you Christians, and yet can hear that fellow-creatures are indanger without hastening to help them. "

She mentioned the name and office of her father, and then went fromprayers to threats. 

Whilst all this was going on in the house, something was going on at thedoor, of which, in all speed, we will give a glimpse. 

There drew up at the inn-door a travelling-calash, accompanied by asmall Holstein carriage in which sate four boys, the eldest of whom, probably ten years of age, and who, evidently greatly to hissatisfaction, had managed with his own hands a pair of thin travellinghorses. From the coach-box of the calash sprang nimbly a somewhat stout, jovial-looking gentleman, and out of the carriage came, one afteranother, other four little boys, with so many packets and bundles as wasperfectly wonderful; among all these moved a rather thin lady of a goodand gay appearance, who took with her own hands all the things out ofthe carriage, and gave them into the care of a maid and the eldest ofthe eight boys; the youngest sate in the arms of his father. 

"Can you yet hold something, Jacob?" asked the lady from one of theboys, who stood there loaded up to the very chin. "Yes, with my nose, "replied he, merrily; "nay, nay, mamma dear, not the wholeprovision-basket--that's quite impossible!"

The mother laughed, and instead of the provision-basket, two or threebooks were put under the protection of the little nose. 

"Take care of the bottles, young ones!" exhorted the mother, "and countthem exactly; there should be ten of them. Adam, don't stand there withyour mouth open, but hold fast, and think about what you have in yourhand, and what you are doing! Take good care of the bottle of mamma'selixir. What a noise is there within! Does nobody come out? Come here myyoung ones! Adam, look after David! Jonathan, stand here! Jacob, Solomon, where are you? Shem and Seth, keep quiet!"

This was the moment when, by the opening of the door of thedancing-room, they became aware of the arrival of the travellers, andwhen the host hastened out to receive them. Many followed him, and amongthe rest Petrea, who quickly interrupted her address to the peasants, inorder, through the interposition of the travellers, as she hoped, toobtain speedier help. 

"Good gentlefolks, " cried she, in a voice which showed her agitation ofmind; "I know not, it is true, who you are" (and the darkness preventedher from seeing it), "but I hope you are Christians, and I beseech ofyou, for heaven's sake----"

"Whose voice is that?" interrupted a cheerful, well-toned, manly voice. 

"Who speaks?" exclaimed Petrea in astonishment. 

A few words were exchanged, and suddenly the names "Petrea! Jacobi!Louise!" flew exultantly from the lips of the three, and they locked oneanother in a heartfelt and affectionate embrace. 

"Aunt Petrea! Aunt Petrea!" cried the eight boys in jubilation, andhopped around her. 

Petrea wept for joy that she had not alone met with good Christians, buthad hit upon her most Christian brother-in-law and court-preacher, andupon "our eldest, " who, with her hopeful offspring, "the Berserkers, "were upon their journey to the paternal house and the new parsonage. 

A few minutes afterwards the carriage, containing Petrea, Louise, andJacobi, accompanied by peasants on horseback, drove away at full gallopinto the wood, into whose gullies, as well as into Petrea's imploringeyes, the half-moon, which now ascended, poured its comfortable light. 

We leave Petrea now with her relatives, who, on their homeward journey, fell in with her at the right moment to save her from a situation in thehighest degree painful. We are perfectly sure that the Assessor receivedspeedy assistance; that Sara was regaled with wine as well as withLouise's elixir; that Petrea's heart was comforted, and her toiletbrought into order; and in confirmation of this our assurance we willquote the following lines from a letter of Louise, which on the next daywas sent off home. 

"I am quite convinced that Sara, with careful attention, befitting diet, and above all, by being surrounded with kindness, may be called back tolife and health. But for the present she is so weak that it isimpossible to think of her travelling under several days. And in anycase, I doubt if she will come with us, unless my father come to fetchher. She says that she will not be a burden to our family. Ah! now it isa pleasure to open house and heart to her. She is so changed! And herchild is--a little angel! For the Assessor it might be necessary, onaccount of his leg, that he go to the city; but he will not leave Sara, who requires his help so greatly (his servant is out of all danger). Petrea, spite of all fatigues and adventures, is quite superb. She andJacobi enliven us all. As things now stand we cannot fix decidedly theday of our arrival; but if Sara continue to improve, as appearancespromise, Jacobi sets out to-morrow with the children to you. It is sodear with them all here in the public-house. God grant that we may allsoon meet again in our beloved home!"

An hour after the receipt of this letter the Judge set off with suchhaste as if his life were concerned. He journeyed from home to theforest-village; we, on the contrary, reverse the journey, and betakeourselves from the public-house to----

FOOTNOTES:

[21] A Day-book (Dagbok) is kept at every inn in Sweden. The name ofevery traveller who takes thence horses, and the name of the next townto which he proceeds, are entered in it; and thus when once on thetrace, nothing could be easier than to discover such a traveller. Theday-book is renewed each month. --M. H. 

CHAPTER IV. 

THE HOME. 

Lilies were blossoming in the house on the beautiful morning of thetwentieth of September. They seemed to shoot up of themselves underGabriele's feet. The mother, white herself as a lily, went about softlyin her fine morning-dress, with a cloth in her hand, wiping away frommirror or table the smallest particle of dust. A higher expression ofjoy than common animated her countenance; a fine crimson tinged herotherwise pale cheeks, and the lips moved themselves involuntarily as ifthey would speak loving and joyful words. 

Bergström adorned ante-room and steps with foliage and splendid flowers, so that they represented a continuation of garlands along the whitewalls; and not a little delighted was he with his own taste, whichGabriele did not at all omit to praise. But although an unusually greatdeal of occupation pervaded the house this morning, still it wasnevertheless unusually quiet; people only spoke in low voices, and whenthe least noise was made, the mother said, "Hush! hush!"

The cause of this was, that the lost but again-found child slept in thehouse of her parents. 

Sara had arrived there the evening before, and we have passed over thisscene, for the great change in her, and her shaken condition, had madeit sorrowful; yet we wish indeed that the feeling reader had seen themanly tears which flowed down the cheeks of the Judge, as he laid thefound-again daughter on the bosom of her mother. We should like to haveshown him the unfortunate one, as she rested with her hands crossed overher breast on the snow-white couch, over which the mother herself hadlaid the fine coverlet; have shown him how she looked upon the child, whose bed stood near her own; upon the beloved ones, who full ofaffection surrounded her--and then up to heaven, without being able toutter one word! And how glad should we have been could he have seen theJacobian pair this evening in the paternal home, and how there sateeating around them, Adam and Jacob, the twin brothers Jonathan andDavid, ditto Shem and Seth, together with Solomon and little Alfred. They were well-trained children, and looked particularly well, alldressed alike in a blouse of dark stuff, over which fell back the whiteshirt collar, leaving free the throat with its lively tint of health, whilst the slender waist was girded with a narrow belt of white leather. Such was the light troop of "the Berserkers. "

But we return to our bright morning hour. Eva and Leonore were in thegarden, and gathered with their own hands some select Astracan applesand pears, which were to ornament the dinner table. They were stillglittering with dew, and for the last time the sun bathed them withpurple by the song of the bulfinch. The sisters had spoken of Sara; ofthe little Elise, whom they would educate; of Jacobi--and theirconversation was cheerful; then they went to other subjects. 

"And to-day, " said Leonore, "your last answer goes to Colonel R----, your last, no! And you feel quite satisfied that it should be so?"

"Yes, quite!" returned Eva; "how the heart changes! I cannot nowconceive how I once loved him!"

"It is extraordinary how he should still solicit your hand, and thisafter so long a separation. He must have loved you much more than any ofthe others to whom he made court. "

"I do not think so, but--ah, Leonore! do you see the beautiful applethere? It is quite bright. Can you reach it? No? Yes, if you climb onthis bough. "

"Must I give myself so much trouble?" asked Leonore; "that is indeedshocking! Well, but I must try, only catch me if I should fall!"

The sisters were here interrupted by Petrea, whose appearance showedthat she had something interesting to communicate. 

"See, Eva, " said she, giving to her a written piece of paper, "here youhave something for morning-reading. Now you must convince yourself ofsomething of which till now you would not believe. And I shall call youa stock, a stone, an automaton without heart and soul, if you donot--yes, smile! You will not laugh when you have read it. Leonore!come, dear Leonore, you must read it also, you will give me credit forbeing right. Read, sisters, read!"

The sisters read the following remarks, in the handwriting of theAssessor. 

"'Happy is the lonely and the lowly! He may ripen and refresh himself inpeace!' Beautiful words, and what is better, true. 

"The foundling has proved their truth. He was sick in mind, heart, andsick of the world and of himself, but he belonged to the lowly and tothe unnoticed, and so he could be alone; alone, in the fresh, quietwood, alone with the Great Physician, who only can heal the deep woundsof the heart--and it is become better with him. 

"Now I begin to understand the Great Physician, and the regimen which hehas prescribed for me. I feared the gangrene selfishness, and woulddrink myself free therefrom by the nectar of love; but he said, 'Jeremias, drink not this draught, but that of self-denial--it is morepurifying. '

"I have drunk it. I have loved her for twenty years without pretensionand without hope. 

"To-day I have passed my three-and-sixtieth year; the increasing pain inmy side commands me to leave the steps of the patients, and tells methat I have not many more paces to count till I reach my grave. May itbe permitted to me to live the remainder of my days more exclusively forher!

"At the 'Old Man's Rose' will I live for her--for it stands in my willthat it belongs to her, it belongs to Eva Frank. 

"I will beautify it for her. I will cultivate there beautiful trees andflowers for her; vines and roses will I bring there. Old age will sometime seize on her, wither her, and consume her. But then 'the rose ofage' will bloom for her, and the odour of my love bless her, when theugly old man wanders on the earth no more. She will take her dearsisters to her there; there hear the songs of the birds, and see theglory of the sun upon the lovely objects of nature. 

"I will repose on these thoughts during the solitary months or yearsthat I must pass there. Truly, many a day will be heavy to me; and thelong solitary evenings; truly, it were good to have there a beloved andgentle companion, to whom one might say each day, 'Good morning, the sunis beautiful;' or in whose eyes--if it were not so--one could see abetter sun;--a companion with whom one could enjoy books, nature--allthat God has given us of good; whose hand, in the last heavy hour onecould press, and to whom one could say, 'Good night! we meetagain--to-morrow--with love itself--with God!'

"But--but--the foundling shall find no home upon earth!

"Now he will soon find another home, and will say to the master there, 'Father, have mercy on my rose!' and to the habitation of men will hesay, 'Wearisome wast thou to me, O world! but yet receive my thanks forthe good which thou hast given me!'"

 * * * * *

When the sisters had ceased to read, several bright tears lay upon thepaper, and shone in the light of the sun. Leonore dried her tears, andturning herself to Petrea, inquired, "But, Petrea, how came this paperinto your hands?"

"Did I not think that would come?" said Petrea. "You should not ask suchdifficult questions, Leonore. Nay, now Eva's eyes are inquiring too--andso grave. Do you think that the Assessor has put it into my hands? Nay, he must be freed from that suspicion even at my expense. You want toknow how I came by this paper? Well then--I stole it, sisters--stole iton our journey--on the very morning after it was written. "

"But, Petrea!"

"But, Petrea! yes, you good ones! it is too late now to cry, 'but, Petrea!' now you know the Assessor's secret; you now may do what yourconsciences command, mine is hardened--you may start before my act, andbe horrified; I don't ask about it. The whole world may excommunicateme--I don't trouble myself!--Eva! Leonore! Sisters!"

Petrea laid an arm round the neck of each sister, kissed them, smilingwith a tear in her eye, and vanished. 

 * * * * *

Somewhat later in the morning we find Eva and Gabriele on a visit at thebeautiful parsonage-house immediately in the vicinity of the town, whereMrs. Louise is in full commotion with all her goods and chattels, whilstthe little Jacobis riot with father and grandfather over fields andmeadows. The little four-years-old Alfred, an uncommonly lively andamiable child, is alone with the mother at home; he pays especial courtto Gabriele, and believing that he must entertain her, he brings out hisNoah's Ark to introduce to her, in his low, clear, young voice, Ham andHamina, Shem and Shemina, Japhet and Japhetina. 

After all how-do-ye-do's between the sisters had been answered, Gabrieleloosened the paper from a basket which Ulla had brought in, and askedLouise to be pleased to accept some roast veal and patties. "Wethought, " said she, "that you would need something fresh after thejourney, before you get your store-room in order. Just taste a patty!they are filled with mince-meat, and I assure you are baked since theFlood. "

"Really!" replied Louise, laughing, "they are delicate too! See, there'sone for you, my little manikin; but another time don't come and setyourself forward and look so hungry! Thanks! thanks, dear sister! Ah, how charming that we are come again into your neighbourhood! How freshand happy you all look! And Petrea! how advantageously she has altered;she is come to have something quiet and sensible about her; she hasoutgrown her nose, and dresses herself neatly; she is just like otherpeople now. And see--here I have a warm, wadded morning-dress for her, that will keep her warm up in her garret; is it not superb? And it costonly ten thalers courant. "

"Oh, extraordinary!--out of the common way!--quite unheard of!" saidthey, "is it not so?--why it is a piece of clothing for a whole life!"

"What a beautiful collar Eva has on! I really believe she is grownhandsomer, " said Louise. "You were and are still the rose of the family, Eva; you look quite young, and are grown stout. I, for my part, cannotboast of that; but how can anybody grow stout when they have eightchildren to work for! Do you know sisters, that in the last week beforeI left Stockholm, I cut out a hundred and six shirts! I hope I can meetwith a good sempstress here; at home; look at my finger, it is quitehard and horny with sewing. God bless the children! one has one'strouble with them. But tell me, how is it with our mother? They havealways been writing to me that she was better--and yet I find herterribly gone off; it really grieves me to see her. What does theAssessor say?"

"Oh, " replied Gabriele warmly, "he says that she will recover. There isreally no danger; she improves every day. "

Eva did not look so hopeful as Gabriele, and her eyes were filled withtears as she said, "When autumn and winter are only over, I hope thatthe spring----"

"And do you know, " interrupted Louise, with animation, "what I have beenthinking of? In the spring she shall come to us and try the milk cure:she shall occupy this room, with the view towards the beautiful birchgrove, and shall enjoy the country air, and all the good things whichthe country affords and which I can obtain for her--certainly this willdo her good. Don't you think that then she will recover? Don't you thinkthat it is a bright idea of mine?"

The sisters thought that really it was bright, and Louise continued:

"Now I must show you what I have brought for her. Do you see these twodamask breakfast cloths, and these six breakfast napkins?--all spun inthe house. I have had merely to pay for the weaving. Now, how do theyplease you?"

"Oh, excellently! excellently!" said one sister. 

"How very handsome! How welcome they will be!" said the other. 

"And you must see what I have bought for my father--ah! Jacobi has it inhis carpet-bag--one thing lies here and another there--but you will seeit, you will see it. "

"What an inundation of things!" said Gabriele, laughing. "One can see, however, that there is no shortness of money. "

"Thank God!" said Louise, "all is comfortable in that respect, thoughyou may very well believe that it was difficult at first; but we beganby regulating the mouths according to the dishes. Ever since I married Ihave had the management of the money. I am my husband's treasurer; hegives over to me whatever comes in, and he receives from me what hewants, and in this way all has gone right. Thank God, when people loveone another all does go right! I am happier than I deserve to be, withsuch a good, excellent husband, and such well-disposed children. If ourlittle girl, our little Louise, had but lived! Ah! it was a happinesswhen she was born, after the eight boys; and then for two years she wasour greatest delight. Jacobi almost worshipped her; he would sit forwhole hours beside her cradle, and was perfectly happy if he only hadher on his knee. But she was inexpressibly amiable--so good, so clever, so quiet; an actual little angel! Ah! it was hard to lose her. Jacobigrieved as I have never seen a man grieve; but his happy temperament andhis piety came to his help. She has now been dead above a year. Ah!never shall I forget my little girl!"

Louise's tears flowed abundantly; the sisters could not help weepingwith her. But Louise soon collected herself again, and said, whilst shewiped her eyes, "Now we have also anxiety with little David's ankles;but there is no perfect happiness in this world, and we have no right toexpect it. Pardon me that I have troubled you; and now let us speak ofsomething else, whilst I get my things a little in order. Tell mesomething about our acquaintance--Aunt Evelina is well?"

"Yes, and sits as grandmother of five nephews at Axelholm, beloved andhonoured by all. It is a very sweet family that she sees about her, andshe has the happiest old age. "

"That is pleasant to hear. But she really deserved to be loved andhonoured. Is her Karin also married?"

"Ah, no! Karin is dead! and this has been her greatest sorrow; they wereso happy together. "

"Ah, thou heaven! Is she dead? Ah, yes, now I remember you wrote to methat she was dead----Look at this dress, sisters--a present from my dearhusband; is it not handsome? and then quite modern. Yes, yes, dearGabriele, you need not make such an ambiguous face; it is very handsome, and quite in the fashion, that I can assure you. But, _ā propos_, how isthe Court-preacher? Exists still in a new form, does it? Now that isgood! I'll put it on this afternoon on purpose to horrify Jacobi, andtell him that for the future I intend to wear it in honour of hisnomination to the office of court-preacher. "

All laughed. 

"But tell me, " continued Louise, "how will our 'great astonishment' goon? how have you arranged it?"

"In this manner, " returned one of the sisters. "We shall all meet for agreat coffee-drinking in the garden, and during this we shall lead theconversation in a natural sort of way to the piece of ground on theother side the fence, and then peep through the cracks in it, and thenexpress that usual wish that this fence might come down. And then, atthis signal, your eight boys, Louise, are to fall on the fence and----"

"How can you think, " said Louise--"to be sure my boys are nimble andstrong, but it would require the power of Berserkers to----"

"Don't be alarmed, " answered the sisters, laughing, "the fence is sawnunderneath, and stands only so firm that a few pushes will produce theeffect--the thing is not difficult. Besides, we'll all run to theattack, if it be needful. "

"Oh, heaven help us! if it be only so, my young ones will soon managethe business--and _ā propos_! I have a few bottles of select whitesugar-beer with me, which would certainly please my father, and whichwill be exactly the right thing if we, as is customary on suchoccasions, have to drink healths. "

During this conversation little Alfred had gone round ineffectuallyoffering two kisses, and was just on the point of growing angry becausehis wares found no demand, when all at once, summoning resolution, hethrew his arms round Gabriele's neck, and exclaimed, "Now I see reallyand thoroughly, that Aunt Gabriele has need of a kiss!" And it was notAunt Gabriele's fault if the dear child was not convinced how whollyindispensable his gift was. 

But Louise still turned over her things. "Here, " said she, "I have awaistcoat-piece for Bergström, and here a neck-kerchief for Ulla, aswell as this little brush with which to dust mirrors and tables. Is itnot superb? And see, a little pair of bellows, and these trifles forBrigitta. "

"Now the old woman, " said the sisters, "will be happy! She is now andthen out of humour, but a feast of coffee, and some little present, reconcile her with all the world; and to-day she will get both. "

"And see, " continued Louise, "how capitally these bellows blow: they canmake the very worst wood burn--see how the dust flies!"

"Uh! one can be blown away oneself, " said Gabriele, laughing. 

While the sisters were still occupied with cleaning and dusting, andLouise was admiring her own discoveries, the Judge came in, happy andwarm. 

"What a deal of business is going forward!" exclaimed he, laughing. "Imust congratulate you, " said he, "Louise; your boys please me entirely. They are animated boys, with, intellects all alive--but, at the sametime, obedient and polite. Little David is a regular hairbrain, and amagnificent lad--what a pity it is that he will be lame!"

Louise crimsoned from heartfelt joy over the praise of her boys, andanswered quickly to the lamentation over the little David, "You shouldhear, father, what a talent he has for the violoncello; he will be asecond Gehrman. "

"Nay, that is good, " returned the Judge; "such a talent as that is worthhis two feet. But I have hardly had time to notice you properly yet, Louise. Heavens! it's glorious that you are come again into ourneighbourhood; now I think I shall be able to see you every day! and youcan also enjoy here the fresh air of the country. You have got thin, butI really think you have grown!"

Louise said laughingly, that the time for that was over with her. 

The sisters also, among themselves, made their observations on Louise. They were rejoiced to see her, among all her things, so exactly herselfagain. 

Handsomer she certainly had not become--but people cannot grow handsomerto all eternity. She looked well and she looked good, had no more of thecathedral about her; she was an excellent Archdeacon's lady. 

 * * * * *

We transport ourselves now to Sara's chamber. 

When a beloved and guiltless child returns, after sufferings overcome, to the bosom of parents into a beloved home, who can describe the sweetdelight of its situation? The pure enjoyment of all the charms of home;the tenderness of the family; the resigning themselves to the heavenlyfeeling of being again at home? But the guilty----

We have seen a picture of the prodigal son which we shall never forget!It is the moment of reconciliation: the father opens his arms to theson; the son falls into them and hides his face. Deep compunction of theheart bows down his head, and over his pale cheek--the only part of hiscountenance which is visible, runs a tear--a tear of penitence and pain, which says everything. The golden ring may be placed upon his hand; thefatted calf may be killed and served up before him--he cannot feel gayor happy--embittering tears gush forth from the fountains of memory. 

Thus was it with Sara, and exactly to that degree in which her heart wasreally purified and ennobled. As she woke out of a refreshing sleep inher new home, and saw near her her child sleeping on the soft snow-whitebed; as she saw all, by the streaming in light of the morning sun, sofestally pure and fresh; as she saw how the faithful memory of affectionhad treasured up all her youthful predilections; as she saw herfavourite flowers, the asters, beaming upon the stove, in an alabastervase; and as she thought how all this had been--and how it now was--shewept bitterly. 

Petrea, who was reading in the window of Sara's room waiting for herawaking, stood now with cordial and consoling words near her bed. 

"Oh, Petrea!" said Sara, taking her hand and pressing it to her breast, "let me speak with you. My heart is full. I feel as if I could tell youall, and you would understand me. I did not come here of my ownwill--your father brought me. He did not ask me--he took me like achild, and I obeyed like a child. I was weak; I thought soon to die; butthis night under this roof has given me strength. I feel now that Ishall live. Listen, to me, Petrea, and stand by me, for as soon as myfeet will carry me I must go away from here. I will not be a burden tothis house. Stained and despised by the world, as I am, I will notpollute this sanctuary! Already have I read aversion towards me inGabriele's look. Oh, my abode here would be a pain to myself! Might myinnocent little one only remain in this blessed house. I must away fromhere! These charms of life; this abundance, they are not for me--theywould wake anguish in my soul! Poverty and labour beseem me! I willaway hence. I must!--but I will trouble nobody: I will not appearungrateful. Help me, Petrea--think for me; what I should do and where Ishould go!"

"I have already thought, " replied Petrea. 

"Have you?" said Sara, joyfully surprised, and fixed upon hersearchingly her large eyes. 

"Come and divide my solitude, " continued Petrea, in a cordial voice. "You know that I, although in the house of my parents, yet live formyself alone, and have the most perfect freedom. Next to my room isanother, a very simple but quiet room, which might be exactly accordingto your wishes. Come and dwell there! There you can live perfectly asyou please; be alone, or see only me, till the quiet influence of calmdays draw you into the innocent life of the family circle. "

"Ah, Petrea, " returned Sara, "you are good--but you cannot approach aperson of ill-report--and you do not know----"

"Hush! hush!" interrupted Petrea; "I know very well--because I see andhear you again! Oh, Sara! who am I that I should turn away from you? Godsees into the heart, and he knows how weak and erring mine is, even ifmy outward life remain pure, and if circumstances and that whichsurrounds me have protected me, and have caused my conduct to beblameless. But I know myself, and I have no more earnest prayer to Godthan that: 'Forgive me my trespasses!' May I not pray by your side?Cannot we tread together the path which lies before us? Both of us haveseen into many depths of life--both of us now look up humbly to thecheerful heaven! Give me your hand--you were always dear to me, and now, even as in the years of childhood do I feel drawn to you! Let us go; letus try together the path of life. My heart longs after you; and does notyours say to you that we are fit for one another, and that we can behappy together?"

"Should I be a burden to you?" said Sara: "were I but stronger, I wouldwait upon you; could I only win my bread by my hands, as in the latteryears I have done--but now!"

"Now give yourself up to me blindly, " said Petrea. "I have enough forus both. In a while, when you are stronger, we will help one another. "

"Will not my wasted life--my bitter remembrances make my temper gloomyand me a burden?" asked Sara; "and do not dark spirits master those whohave been so long in their power?"

"Penitence, " said Petrea, "is a goddess--she protects the erring. And ifa heathen can say this, how much more a Christian!--Oh, Sara!annihilating repentance itself--I know it--can become a strength forhim, by which he can erect himself. It can raise up to new life; it canarouse a will which can conquer all things--it has raised me erect--itwill do the same for you! You stand now in middle life--a long future isbefore you--you have an amiable child; have friends; have to live foreternal life! Live for these! and you will see how, by degrees, thenight vanishes, the day ascends, and all arranges itself and becomesclear. Come, and let us two unitedly work at the most important businessof life--improvement!"

Sara, at these words, raised herself in the bed, and new beams werekindled in her eyes. "I will, " said she, "Petrea; an angel speaksthrough you; your words strengthen and calm me wonderfully--I will beginanew----"

Petrea pressed Sara to her breast, and spoke warm and heartfelt"thanks, " and then added softly, "and now be a good child, Sara!--allweak and sick people are children. Now submit, calmly and resignedly, tobe treated and guided like such a one; gladden by so doing those who arearound you, and who all wish you well! We cannot think of any changebefore you are considerably better--it would trouble every one. "

At this moment the door was opened, and the mother looked ininquiringly; she smiled so affectionately as she locked Sara in herarms. Leonore followed her; but as she saw Sara's excited state, shewent quickly back and returned with a breakfast-tray covered with allkinds of good things; and now cheerful and merry words emulated oneanother to divert the again-found-one, old modes of speech were againreverted to, and old acquaintances renewed. 

"Do you know Madame Folette again? She has been lately repaired. Can shehave the honour of giving you a cup of coffee? There is your old cupwith the stars; it was saved with Madame Folette from the fire, and thelittle one here with the rose-buds is allotted to our little Elise. Youmust really taste these rusks--they never were in the Ark--they camewith the blushing morning out of the oven. Our 'little lady' has herselfselected and filled the basket with the very best for you; you shall seewhether these home-baked would not please even the Assessor;"--and soon. 

In the mean time the little Elise had awoke, and looked with bright blueeyes up to great Elise, who bent down to her. They were really like eachother, as often daughter's daughters and grandmothers are, and appearedto feel related already. When Sara saw her child in Elise's arms, tearsof pure joy filled her eyes for the first time. 

 * * * * *

I do not know whether my lady-readers have nerves to stand by while "theBerserkers" overthrow the garden-fence. I fancy not; and therefore, withmy reader's permission, I make a little leap over the great event of theday--the thrown-down wooden fence, which fell so hastily that theBerserkers themselves tumbled all together over it, --and go into the newpiece of land, where we shall find the family-party assembled, sittingon a flower-decorated moss-seat, under a tall birch-tree, which wavedover them its crown, tinged already with autumnal yellow. The Septembersun, which was approaching its setting, illuminated the group, andgleamed through the alders on the brook, which softly murmuring amongblue creeks, flowed around the new piece of land, and at once beautifiedand bounded it. 

Tears shone in the eyes of the family-father; but he spoke not. To seehimself the object of so much love; the thoughts on the future; on hisfavourite plan; fatherly joy and pride; gratitude towards hischildren--towards heaven, all united themselves to fill his heart withthe most pleasurable sensations which can bless a human bosom. 

The mother, immediately after the great surprise, and the explosion ofjoy which followed it, had gone into the house with Eva and Leonore. Among those who remained behind, we see the friend of the familyJeremias Munter, who wore on the occasion the grimmest countenance inthe world; the Baron L. , who was no more the wild extravagant youth, but a man, and beyond this, a landed-proprietor, whose grave demeanourwas beautified by a certain, agreeable sobriety, particularly visiblewhen he spoke with "our little lady, " at whose feet he was seated. 

Louise handed about white-sugar beer, which nobody praised more highlythan herself. She found that it had something unearthly in it, somethingpositively exalting; but when Gabriele, immediately after she had dranka half glass, gave a spring upwards, "our eldest" became terrified, forsuch a strong working of her effervescing white-beer she had by no meansexpected. Nevertheless she was soon surrounded by the eight, who criedaltogether, "Mamma, may I have some beer?" "And I too?" "And I?" "And Itoo?" "And I?" "And I?" "Send a deal of foam for me, mamma dear!"

"Nay, nay, nay, dear boys! people must not come clamouring and stormingthus--you don't see that I or the father do so. Solomon must wait to thevery last now. Patience is a good herb. There, you have it; now drink, but don't wet yourselves!"

After the little Jacobis had all enjoyed the foaming, elevating liquor, they became possessed by such a buoyant spirit of life, that Louise wasobliged to command them to exhibit their mighty deeds at a distance. Hereupon they swarmed forth on journeys of discovery, and began totumble head over heels round the place. David hobbled along with hislittle crutch over stock and stone, whilst Jonathan gathered for him allsorts of flowers, and plucked the bilberry plants, to which he pointedwith his finger; little nosegays were then made out of them, with whichthey overwhelmed their aunts, especially Gabriele, their chosen friendand patron. The serious Adam, the eldest of the eight, a boy ofexceedingly staid demeanour, sate quietly by the side of hisgrandfather, and appeared to consider himself one of the elderly people;the little Alfred hopped about his mother. 

The Judge looked around him with an animated countenance; he plantedalleys and hedges; set down benches and saw them filled with happypeople, and communicated his plans to Jacobi. 

Jeremias observed the scene with a bitter, melancholy, and, to him, peculiar smile. As little David came limping up to him with thefragrant wood-flowers, he exclaimed suddenly, "Why not rather make herea botanic garden than a common park? Flowers are indeed the onlypleasant thing here in the world, and because people go all aboutsnuffing with the nose, it might be as well to provide them withsomething to smell at. A water-establishment also could be united withit, and thus something miserable might get washed away from the pitiablewretches here in this world. "

The Judge seized on the idea with joy. "So we will, " said he; "we willunite pleasure with profit. This undertaking will cost more than asimple public pleasure-ground, but that need not prevent it. In thisbeautiful time of peace, and with the prospect of its long continuance, people may take works in hand, and hope to complete them, even if theyshould require a long time. "

"And such works, " said Jacobi, "operate ennoblingly on life in times ofpeace. Peace requires even as great a mass of power as war, but againstanother kind of foe. Every ennobling of this earthly existence, everything which exalts the mind to a more intellectual life, is abattery directed against the commoner nature in man, and is a servicedone to humanity and one's native land. "

"Bah!" cried Jeremias with vexation, "humanity and native land! You havealways large words in the mouth; if a fence is thrown down or a bushplanted, it is immediately called a benefit for one's native land. Plantyour fields and throw down your fences, but let the native land rest inpeace! for it troubles itself just as little about you, as you about it. For one's country and humanity!--that should sound very affecting--allmere talk!"

"No, now you are in fact too severe, " said the Judge, smiling at theoutbreak of his friend; "and I, as far as regards myself, " continued he, gravely, but cheerfully, "wish that a clearer idea of one's countryaccompanied every step of human activity. If there be a love which isnatural and reasonable, it is the love of one's country. Have I not tothank my country for everything that I have? Are they not its laws, itsinstitutions, its spiritual life, which have developed my whole being, as man and as a citizen? And are they not the deeds of my fathers whichhave fashioned these; which have given them their power and theirindividual life? In fact, love and gratitude towards one's parents isno greater duty than love and gratitude towards one's native land; andthere is no one, be he man or woman, high or low, but who, according tohis own relationships, can and must pay this holy debt. And this isexactly the signification of a christianly constituted state, that everyone shall occupy with his pound so as to benefit, at the same time, boththe individual and the community at large. "

"Thus, " added Petrea, "do the rain-drops swell the brook, which poursits water into the river, and may, even though it be nameless, communicate benefit in its course. "

"So it is, my dear child, " said her father, and extended to her hishand. 

"It is a gladdening thought, " said Louise, with tearful eyes. "Payattention, Adam, to what grandfather and aunt say, and keep it in yourmind;--but don't open your mouth so wide; a whole frigate could sailinto it. "

At these words little Alfred began to laugh so shrilly and so heartilythat all the elderly folks irresistibly bore him company. Adam laughedtoo; and at the sound of this peal of laughter came bounding forwardfrom all ends and corners Shem and Seth, Jacob and Solomon, Jonathan andDavid, just as a flock of sparrows comes flying down over a handful ofscattered corn. They came laughing because they heard laughter, andwished to be present at the entertainment. 

In the mean time the sun had set, and the cool elves of evening began towander over the place as the family, amid the most cheerful talk, arosein order to return to the house. As they went into the city the ball onSt. Mary's church glimmered like fire in the last beams of the sun, andthe moon ascended like a pale but gentle countenance over the roof oftheir house. There was a something in this appearance which made asorrowful impression on Gabriele. The star of the church tower glitteredover the grave of her brother, and the look of the moon made herinvoluntarily think on the pale, mild countenance of her mother. For therest, the evening was so lovely, the blackbird sang among the alders bythe brook, and the heaven lay clear and brightly blue over the earth, whilst the wind and every disturbing sound became more and more hushed. 

Gabriele walked on, full of thought, and did not observe that Baron L. Had approached her; they were almost walking together as he said, "I amvery glad; it was very pleasant to me to see you all again so happy!"

"Ah, yes, " answered Gabriele, "now we can all be together again. It is agreat happiness that Louise and her family are come here. "

"Perhaps, " continued the Baron--"perhaps it might be audacity to disturbsuch a happily united life, and to wish to separate a daughter andsister from such a family--but if the truest----"

"Ah!" hastily interrupted Gabriele, "don't speak of disturbing anything, of changing anything--everything is so good as it now is!"

He was silent, with an expression of sorrow. 

"Let us be all happy together, " said Gabriele, bashfully and cordially;"you will stop some time with us. It is so charming to have friends andsisters--this united life is so agreeable with them. "

The Baron's countenance brightened. He seized Gabriele's hand, and wouldhave said something, but she hastened from him to her father, whose armshe took. 

Jacobi conducted Petrea; they were cheerful and confidential together, as happy brother and sister. She spoke to him of her present happiness, and of the hope which made up her future. He took the liveliest interestin it, and spoke with her of his plans; of his domestic happiness; andwith especial rapture of his boys; of their obedience to the slightestword of their parents; of their mutual affection to each other--andsee--all this was Louise's work! And Louise's praise was sung forth in aharmonious duet--ever a sweet scent for "our eldest, " who appeared, however, to listen to no one but her father. 

They soon reached home. The mother stood with the silver ladle in herhand, and the most friendly smile on her lips, in the library, before alarge steaming bowl of punch, and with look and voice bade the enteringparty welcome. 

"My dear Elise, " said the Judge, embracing her, "you are become twentyyears younger to-day. "

"Happiness makes one young, " answered she, looking on himaffectionately. 

People seated themselves. 

"Don't make so much noise, children!" said Louise to her eight, seatingherself with the little Elise on her knees; "can't you seat yourselveswithout so much noise and bustle. "

Jeremias Munter had placed himself in a corner, and was quiet, andseemed depressed. 

On many countenances one saw a sort of tension, a sort of consciousnessthat before long a something uncommon was about to happen. The Judgecoughed several times; he seemed to have an unusual cause for making histhroat clear. At length he raised his voice and spoke, but not withoutevident emotion, "Is it true that our friend Jeremias Munter thinks ofsoon leaving us, in order to seat himself down in solitude in thecountry? Is it true, as report says, that he leaves us so soon asto-morrow morning, and that this is the last evening which brings himinto our circle as a townsman of ours?"

The Assessor made an attempt to reply, but it was only a sort of lowgrunting tone without words. He looked fixedly upon the floor, andsupported his hands upon his stick. 

"In this case, " continued the Judge, "I am desired to ask him aquestion, which I would ask from no one else, and which nearly sticks inmy throat, --Will our friend Munter allow that any one--any one of usshould follow him into his solitude?"

"Who would accompany me?" snorted Jeremias grumblingly and doubtingly. 

"I!" answered a soft, harmonious voice; and Eva, as beautiful andgraceful at this moment as ever, approached him, conducted by herfather. "I, " repeated she, blushing and speaking softly but sincerely, "I will accompany you if you will. "

On the countenances of the family it might be read that this to themembers of it was no surprise. Louise had gentle tears in her eyes, anddid not look the least in the world scandalised at this step--socontrary to the dignity of woman. The Assessor drew himself together, and looked up with a sharp and astonished look. 

"Receive from my hand, " said the Judge, with a voice which showed hisfeeling, "a companion for whom you have long wished. Only to you, Munter, would I so resign my beloved child. "

"Do you say no to me?" asked Eva, blushing and smiling, as she extendedher white hand to the still stupified Jeremias. 

He seized the extended hand hastily, pressed it with both hands to hisbreast, and said softly as he bent over it, "Oh, my rose!" When heraised his head, his eyes were wet; but there was anxiety and disquietin his whole being. "Brother, " said he to the Judge, "I cannot yet thankyou--I don't know--I don't understand--I must first prove her. "

He took Eva by the hand and conducted her into the boudoir adjoining thelibrary, seated himself opposite to her, and said warmly, "Whenceproceeds this? What jokes are these? How does it arise? Tell me, inGod's name, Eva, with what sentiments do you thus come and woo me? Is itwith true love?--yes, I say, true love; don't be startled at the word!You can take it as I mean it. Is it love, or is it--pity? As a gift ofmercy I cannot take you. Thus much I can tell you. Do not deceiveyourself--do not deceive me! In the name of God, who proves all hearts, answer me, and speak the truth. Is it from the full and entire heartthat you come thus to me? Do you think, Eva, angel of God, that I, theugly, infirm, ill-tempered old man can make you happy?"

He spoke with a heartfelt anxiety, yet he now looked handsome with loveand feeling. 

"My friend, my benefactor, " answered Eva, and wiped away some tearswhich rolled down her cheeks, "see into--read my inmost heart. Gratitudeled me to the acknowledgment of your worth, and both have led me tolove; not the passionate love which I once felt--but never more canfeel--but a deep inward devotion, which will make me and, as I alsohope, you happy, and which nothing further can disturb. To live for you, and next to you for my family, is the highest wish that I have on earth. I can candidly say that in this moment there is no one whom I love morethan you. Is that enough for you?"

The Assessor riveted his deep eyes searchingly and penetratingly on Eva. "Kiss me!" said he, at once short and sharp. 

With an indescribably charming submission, Eva bowed her blushing faceand kissed him. 

"Lord God!" said Jeremias, "and you are mine! In his name then!" andwith unspeakable emotion clasped he his long beloved to his heart. Heheld her long, and only deep sighs arose from his heart overflowing withhappiness. At length he tore himself from her, and as if animated withnew youth he sprang forward, and exclaimed to the company assembled inthe library, "Nay, now it is all made up--I take her--she shall haveme--she shall have me! She is worthy to be my wife, and I am worthy tobe her husband! Now then, you without there, will not you drink ourhealths?"

All gathered around the bowl--Louise with the rest--the eight followingher--it was all a joyful bustle. Leonore and Petrea kept back the littletumultuous ones amid laughter, and promised to carry the glasses to themif they would only keep their places. 

At length quiet returned to the assembly, the glasses were filled, andthe skål began. 

No. 1, which the Judge proposed, was "for the newly betrothed. "

No. 2, which Jacobi spoke eloquently, was "for the Parents; for theirhappiness and well-being, " said he, with emotion, "through which I, andso many others as well as I, are blessed!"

No. 3, was drunk to "the prosperity of the new Pastor's family. "

No. 4, for "the new purchased land. "

No. 5, for "the old--ever-new Home. "

No. 6, was "the health of all good children!" The eight seemed as ifthey could not return thanks enough. 

After this yet a many other particular toasts were given. The youngJacobis drank incessantly to the aunts--Gabriele must continually makeher glass clink against those of her little nephews. 

In the mean time Jeremias Munter made with love-warm looks the followingspeech to his bride. "That was a joke now! that you should have made meof such consequence! How did she know that I would have her? To woo meyourself, and to take me so by surprise! To give me no time to think. What then? It is quite unheard of! Was the thing arranged beforehand?No, that is too troublesome. Nay, nay, nay, nay then, nay say I! But nowI think about it, it was quite for the best that I accept you--butindeed you were a little hasty; I've a good mind to----What now? What isfresh in hand? Comes her little grace, the little sister-in-law, withoutany ceremony and kisses me. Heavens! the world is very merry!"

But nobody in the whole circle found the world so merry as Petrea. 

"Are you now satisfied with me, Petrea?" asked Eva, archly laughing. Petrea clasped her warmly in her arms. 

Now the voice of Mother Louise was heard saying, "Nay, nay, children, you must not drink a drop more! What do you say, my little David? Athee-and-thou toast with Uncle Munter? No, thank you greatly, my dearfellow, you can propose that another time. You have drunk to-day toastsenough--more, perhaps, than your little heads can carry. "

"I beg for the boys, sister Louise, " said the Assessor; "I will proposea skål, and they must drink it with me. Fill, yet once more, theglasses, little carousers!--I propose a skål for peace! peace in ourcountry, and peace in our homes! A skål for love and knowledge, whichalone can make peace a blessing! A skål, in one word, for--Peace uponEarth!"

"Amen! amen!" cried Jacobi, drank off his glass, and threw it behindhim. Louise looked at her mother somewhat astonished, but the motherfollowed Jacobi's example; she too was carried away. 

"All glasses to the ground after this skål!" cried the Judge, and senthis ringing against the ceiling. With an indescribable pleasure thelittle Jacobis threw their glasses up, and endeavoured to make the skålfor Peace as noisy and tumultuous as possible. 

 * * * * *

We leave now the joyful circle, from which we have seen the mothersoftly steal away. We see her go into the boudoir, where reposing incomfortable quiet she writes the following lines to her friend andsister:

"I have left them now for a few minutes, in order to rest, and to say afew words to you, my Cecilia. Here it is good and quiet; and joyfulvoices--truly festival voices, echo to me here. The heart of my Ernstenjoys the highest pleasure, for he sees all his children happy aroundhim. And the children, Cecilia, he has reason to be joyful over them andproud; they stand all around him, good and excellent human beings; theythank him that existence has been given to them, and that they havelearned its worth; They are satisfied with their lot. The lost andagain-found-one has come home, in order to begin a new life, and hercharming child is quite established on the knees of the grandfather. 

"I hear Gabriele's guitar accompanied by a song. I fancy now they dance. Louise's eight boys make the floor shake. Jacobi's voice is heard aboveall. The good, ever-young man. I also should be joyful, for all in myhouse is peaceful and well-arranged. And I am so; my heart is full ofthankfulness, but my body is weary--very weary. 

"The fir-trees on the grave wave and beckon me. I see their topssaluting me in the clear moonlight, and pointing upwards. Dost thoubeckon me, my son? Dost thou call me to come home to thee? Myfirst-born, my summer-child! Let me whisper to thee that this is mysecret wish. The earth was friendly towards me; friendly was my home:when thou wast gone, my favourite! I began to follow. Perhaps the day ofmy departure is at hand. I feel in myself as if I were able to go torest. And might a really bright and beautiful moment be enjoyed by mebefore my last sleep, I would yet once more press my husband's hand tomy lips, look around me on earth with a blessing, and upwards towardsheaven with gratitude, and say as now, out of the depths of my heart, 'Thank God for the home here, and the home there. '"

END OF THE HOME. 

Transcriber's Notes:

I inserted 'a' into sentence, Never did I envy [a] human being as Ienvied her, on Page 90. 

In Footnote 3, the word appears to be Niflhem, but the more commonspelling is Niflheim.