'UBRART 1 ! 
 
 ONlvtHSITY Of 
 CALIFORNIA 
 SAN OICSO J
 
 LILIECRONA'S HOME
 
 LILIECRONA'S HOME 
 
 A NOVEL BY SELMA \LAGERLOF 
 
 WINNER OF THE NOBEL PRIZE FOR LITERATURE. AUTHOR OF 
 "COST A BERLING," "JERUSALEM," "THE ADVENTURES OF 
 NILS," "THE GIRL FROM THE MARSHCROFT," ETC. ETC. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE SWEDISH 
 
 BY 
 
 ANNA HARWELL 
 
 NEW YORK 
 E. P. BUTTON & COMPANY 
 
 MCMXIV
 
 All rights reserved
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 rr. .-, PAGE 
 
 THE bTORM-WIND . ... I 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 THE SPINNING-WHEELS . . ... 19 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 THE BLACK LAKE . . ... 29 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 SNOW-WHITE . . . . . . 38 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 THE PASTOR OF SVARTSJO . . . . 81 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 THE MAGIC PANCAKE . . ... 87 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 THE BRIDE'S DANCE . . 95 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 THE FOX-PIT . . . . . . 117 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 THE SILVER THALER . . . . . 126 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE PASTOR FROM FINLAND . , . . 143 
 
 v
 
 vi Contents 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 FACE 
 
 THE SMITH FROM HENRIKSBERG . . . 160 
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 ENSIGN ORNECLOU . . . . 174 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 THE DAILY ROUND . . ... 191 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 A SPRING EVENING . . ... 202 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 THE ACCUSATION . . 218 
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 THK REST STONE . .242 
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 THE WATER SPIRITS IN LOVDALA . , 250 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 THE HOME . . . ... 256
 
 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE STORM-WIND 
 
 ON Christmas Day, 1880, a pitiless storm 
 raged over Lovsjo (Green Lake) District 
 in Varmland. It seemed as though the heavens 
 meant to tear up everything on earth and make 
 a clean sweep of it all. 
 
 Now, do not say that no doubt there have 
 been storms as bad both before and since, and, 
 above all, do not let any of the Lovsjo dwellers 
 hear you, for they have known from their 
 earliest childhood that the like of this storm 
 could never even be imagined. 
 
 They can still count up all the fences that were 
 torn down, all the thatched roofs snatched off, 
 all the cow-houses blown over, so that for days 
 the poor beasts lay buried in the ruins. And 
 they can point to all the places where fire broke 
 out and was fanned by the wind until the whole 
 village was in ashes. And they have been on 
 all the heights and mountain-tops where tree 
 after tree fell, until they stood naked and bare 
 as they are to-day.
 
 2 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 We know, indeed, the common proverb that 
 it is an ill wind that blows nobody good, but 
 no one could believe that it was true of this 
 Christmas storm, for, indeed, it was plainly 
 to be seen that it only brought with it one 
 misfortune after another. 
 
 And I fancy that the one least ready of all 
 to believe that anything good could come from 
 the storm was the " Little-Maid " from Koltorp. 
 She was not to be trifled with, this little lass, 
 as she stood that Christmas morning on the edge 
 of the forest, and saw how the air in the valley 
 beneath her was thick and dark with snow and 
 dust and all that the wind was driving before 
 it. Never in all her life, and she was thirteen 
 past, had she met with such a disappointment. 
 As a rule, she could keep up her spirits in toil 
 and trouble, but this was almost more than she 
 could bear. A very little more and the tears 
 would start from the large bright eyes and trickle 
 down over the pale thin little face. 
 
 Little-Maid had gone a little beyond the edge 
 of the forest to see what the storm was like, and 
 the wind tore at the handkerchief over her 
 head, buffeted her short white sheepskin jacket, 
 and whipped her homespun skirt so sharply 
 round her legs that it nearly knocked her over. 
 
 She was not alone, her Mother and " Little- 
 Lad " were there as well. Both were dressed 
 like Little-Maid, in short white sheepskin 
 jackets and skirts of stiff black homespun. 
 Nor could it well be otherwise, for Little-Maid 
 inherited her clothes from her Mother, and 
 Little-Lad came into possession after her. But
 
 The Storm-wind 3 
 
 there was this difference between them and 
 Little-Maid that, although their clothes were 
 just as warm as hers, they had not gone outside 
 the forest, but still stood in its shelter. 
 
 The Mother and Little-Lad had just the same 
 thin pinched faces as Little-Maid, and the same 
 clever, bright eyes, and they too thought 
 what a misfortune this storm was, and were 
 not far off tears of disappointment either. 
 But they did not look nearly so desperate as she 
 did. 
 
 For you must know she was standing just on 
 the high ground above Beckgorden in the Bro 
 parish, and could follow the long twists and 
 curves of the road leading down to Bro Church. 
 And she saw how the peasant folk who had 
 started to go to church turned back home again. 
 This was all she needed to understand that it 
 would be quite impossible for her Mother and 
 the Little-Lad to walk twelve miles down to 
 Nugord in the Svartsjo parish, where they had 
 meant to eat their Christmas dinner. 
 
 She really couldn't help clenching her fist 
 inside her glove when she realised it. If it 
 had only not been so quiet in the forest, where 
 they lived. If only they had known what the 
 weather was like before they came to the edge 
 of the trees. Then they would never have 
 started from home, and that would have pleased 
 her much better. 
 
 For, you see, there was nothing she felt so 
 contemptible as to turn back, and not be able 
 to go where she wanted. 
 
 If only she had not all the year reckoned on
 
 4 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 this Christmas Day in Nugord ! If only she 
 had not seen before her eyes this minute the 
 big steaming pans, the long tables with their 
 white cloths, and the great dishes stacked high 
 with wild geese. If only she and the Little-Lad 
 had not said to each other whenever Mother 
 had no food to give them : " When we go to 
 Uncle's Christmas feast in Nugord we shall have 
 as much as we can eat." Only to think that 
 they were boiling sweet soup with raisins in it 
 down there, that there was rice-porridge and 
 cakes, jam, coffee, and pastry, and she was not 
 to taste one of them ! 
 
 She was so angry that she really wished she 
 had someone there to vent her anger on. She 
 thought to herself that the storm-wind might 
 have known better than to come just then. 
 It was a holiday, so he was not wanted to turn 
 the mill, and winter, too, when no one wanted 
 his help out on the lake, so he might just as well 
 have taken a rest. But what was the good of 
 telling a storm-wind that ? 
 
 It was the worst piece of road that she had 
 before her now down past Helgesater and up 
 the Broby Hills right on to Loven and the 
 church with the great Parsonage grounds for 
 the road there went across an open, treeless 
 stretch of land. If they could only get over that 
 and struggle up the Hedeby Hills, all the 
 danger would be over, for, after that, it was 
 nothing but forest. 
 
 It did not look so dreadfully far. She 
 thought they might at least try, for at the 
 worst they could but fail.
 
 The Storm-wind 5 
 
 So she was glad whilst her Mother stood 
 thinking, for it was always possible that she 
 might decide to go on. But then she noticed 
 that her Mother turned to go into the forest, and 
 Little-Lad, of course, turned too. 
 
 Then Little-Maid began to go in the opposite 
 direction, straight out on to the hill, at first 
 very slowly, but then more and more quickly, 
 for the wind came behind her and almost forced 
 her to run. 
 
 She took good care not to look back for fear 
 her Mother and Little-Lad should beckon to her 
 to turn. She was almost sure they had stopped, 
 and were calling to her, but that need not trouble 
 her, for now that she was really out in the 
 tempest there was such a din and racket that she 
 could hear nothing clearly. 
 
 It was impossible for Mother to run and 
 catch her up, for she had to keep hold of 
 Little-Lad's hand to save him from being blown 
 away, so that she could not get on quickly 
 at all. 
 
 It was not that Little-Maid wanted to turn, 
 for such a thought never entered her head, but 
 she was obliged to confess to herself that she had 
 never dreamt the weather was so bad as this. 
 Over her head there flew great dark birds with 
 fluttering wings that the wind was driving before 
 it with such force that body and wings were 
 swept asunder. She thought she had never seen 
 anything so horrible, until she found out that 
 they were great bundles of straw torn from some 
 roof or other. 
 
 If she took a step against the wind, it rose
 
 6 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 like a prancing horse and threatened to throw 
 her down, while, if she took a step with it, it 
 shot after her, so that she had to bend knees 
 and back too to stand against its force. She 
 grew so weary of the continual battle that 
 she felt as if she had been dragging a heavy 
 load. 
 
 From the north it came too, as cold as though 
 it had been dancing with death, so strong and 
 sharp that it pierced through sheepskin and 
 homespun and laid its icy fingers on her skin. 
 And although she did not heed such trifles, she 
 felt her toes grow stiff inside her waxed boots 
 and her fingers numb in the woollen gloves, 
 whilst her ears tingled under her kerchief. But, 
 heedless of all, on she went right down the long 
 hill-side. When she reached the valley she 
 stopped and waited for the others. 
 
 When at last they came in sight she went to 
 meet them. 
 
 It would certainly, she said, be best to turn 
 and go home again, it was quite impossible to 
 get on to Nugord. 
 
 But now Mother was angry and Little-Lad as 
 well. They said to themselves that this young 
 lass was not going to order them about, and 
 say when they were to go forward and when 
 back. 
 
 " No," said Mother, " we are not going back 
 to suit you. Since you are so anxious for your 
 Christmas feast, you can just trudge on for it." 
 
 " Yes," said Little-Lad, " you can have wind 
 enough blown into you to last you for many a 
 week."
 
 The Storm-wind 7 
 
 And with that Mother and Little-Lad began 
 to walk on, leaving Little-Maid to come after 
 as best she might. 
 
 When they came down to Uvgorden they met 
 Gipsy-Lotta and Beggar- Jon. And these two 
 who roamed about the district, week-day and 
 Sunday, in fair and foul weather, put their 
 hands to their mouths like a trumpet, and 
 shouted to them to go home for any sake, or 
 they would be frozen to death down by the cold 
 lake-side. 
 
 Mother and Little-Lad went on, however. 
 They were still angry with Little-Maid, and de- 
 termined that she should feel right well what sort 
 of weather it was. 
 
 They met Erik of Falla's horse coming along 
 with an empty sledge behind him, for Erik's 
 hat had blown off, and whilst he was running 
 across fields, climbing over fences and creeping 
 along ditches to catch it again, his horse had 
 grown tired of standing in the wind, and trotted 
 off home. 
 
 But Mother and Little-Lad looked as though 
 there was nothing wonderful in that, and 
 trudged on and on. Away they struggled, until 
 they reached the top of Broby Hill. But then 
 they came upon a great crowd of people standing 
 with sledges and horses and unable to get on 
 farther. For the great Broby pine, tall enough 
 to be seen for miles around, had been blown 
 down and lay across the road. And there stood 
 Gullosa-Jan and Kringosa-Britta, who were to 
 have been wedded that day in Bro Church. 
 And there stood old Jan Jansa of Gullosa and
 
 8 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 old Mother from Kringosa, friends and relatives, 
 Player- Jons and beautiful Gunnar of Hogsjo, 
 and many another who was going to the 
 wedding. 
 
 They shouted and explained that twice before 
 their road had been stopped by overblown 
 trees. Those they had managed to move, but 
 there was no doing anything with this one. 
 And old Father from Gullosa went round 
 offering brandy, but that didn't bring them on 
 any farther. And the bride had got out of her 
 sledge and stood there crying over the diffi- 
 culties that had barred her way to church. And 
 the wind tore the red muslin roses and green 
 silk leaves from the edge of her dress, so that 
 travellers who, later in the day, came through 
 the parish, could think no other than that 
 the storm-wind had found a wild rose bush 
 in some fairy forest, and carried off its flowers 
 and leaves to scatter them over ditch and 
 field. 
 
 But Mother and Little-Lad did not stop for 
 any pine tree across the road, but crept under 
 and went steadily on. They considered that 
 Little-Maid had not had enough of the storm 
 by a long way yet. And just think ; they went 
 on to the cross-roads and Broby inn. 
 
 There they met Madam Samzelius driving 
 along in her covered sledge drawn by two 
 horses. Then indeed they realised what the 
 storm must be, when Madam Samzelius, who 
 never heeded the weather, had a roof above 
 her. She shook her fist at them as she cried, 
 "Be off home, Marit of Koltorp. What are
 
 The Storm-wind 9 
 
 you doing out with your young ones, when even 
 I have to drive under cover ? ' 
 
 But Mother and Little-Lad thought Little- 
 Maid might still be the better of another buffet 
 or two from the storm-wind. 
 
 When they came to the narrow sound 
 between Upper and Middle Loven, they had to 
 crawl on all fours the whole length of the 
 bridge. For the wind was so terrible here that, 
 if they had tried to walk across, they would have 
 certainly been blown into the water below. 
 
 Once over the bridge they were half-way, 
 and Little-Maid really began to think they would 
 be at the Christmas feast. But no sooner had 
 the thought come, than a fresh difficulty 
 arose. The biting cold on the bridge had quite 
 finished Little-Lad. He was like a lump of 
 ice. He threw himself down on the ground and 
 refused to stir another step. Mother snatched 
 him up and ran off to the nearest cottage. 
 Little-Maid was so terrified as she followed 
 Mother into the cottage that she scarcely knew 
 what she did. For if Little-Lad was frozen to 
 death it was her fault. But for her, Mother and 
 he would certainly have turned and gone home 
 again. 
 
 They had come to a cottage belonging to 
 people who were kindness itself. They said at 
 once that it would never do for the strangers to 
 leave them again until the wind had fallen a 
 little, and added that it was the hand of God 
 that had led them there. For if they had gone 
 on to the Parsonage lands, they must most 
 certainly have all three been frozen to death.
 
 io Liliecrona's Home 
 
 It seemed as though Mother too was glad to 
 be under shelter. She sat there so contentedly, 
 and looked as if she had quite forgotten that 
 down in Nugord they were just busy turning the 
 spits, and skimming the fat off the great pots of 
 boiling meat. 
 
 When the cottage-folk were tired of saying 
 what a good thing it was they had stopped there, 
 they began to ask why they had gone out in 
 such a tempest. Perhaps they had meant to go 
 to church ? 
 
 Then Mother told them that they had wanted 
 to go to Per Jansa's in Nugord. He was her 
 brother-in-law, although he was as rich as her 
 husband had been poor. Every Christmas he 
 had a feast, and she his sister-in-law was of 
 course invited. She had indeed thought it was 
 terrible weather to go in, but this was the only 
 festivity they ever had the chance of the whole 
 year through. 
 
 The cottage-folk were troubled again when 
 they heard that. It was indeed a pity that 
 Mother could not get to Per Jansa's party, such 
 a fine one as it was too. But there, it was quite 
 impossible to go out again in the storm it was 
 only risking one's life. 
 
 Mother agreed that it was impossible, and 
 looked as if she did not mind at all sitting in a 
 poor cottage, when there were so many good 
 things waiting for her somewhere else. 
 
 " If you hadn't the children with you," said 
 the cottage-folk, " perhaps you could manage 
 to struggle down there." 
 
 Mother agreed with that too. No doubt she
 
 The Storm- wind n 
 
 would have got to the feast, if she had not had 
 the children with her. But she couldn't take 
 them out again in such weather. 
 
 No ; there was no help for it, they agreed. 
 They thought it was such a pity, they said, 
 and it was easy to see how sorry they really 
 were. 
 
 Then all at once the good-wife had a very 
 happy thought. " Look at that now," said she. 
 " Why, of course, you can leave the children 
 with us if you want to go." 
 
 How pleased they were, both husband and 
 wife ! They could not understand how they had 
 not thought of it before. 
 
 At first Mother objected a little, but she soon 
 gave way. It was agreed that the children 
 should stay the whole day and over the night 
 as well, but next morning Mother was to come 
 back and fetch them. 
 
 Then Mother went, and there sat Little-Maid. 
 Now there was indeed an end of her going to 
 the Christmas dinner, that she saw. 
 
 But it would have been no use to say anything 
 about wanting to go with Mother, for they had 
 hit upon such kind folk that they would never 
 have let her go away. And besides, they could 
 not both have left Little-Lad either. 
 
 The cottage-folk tried to talk to her and cheer 
 her up, but she could not answer a word. She 
 turned her back to them and stood by the 
 window looking at one or two birches swaying 
 backwards and forwards in the storm. So many 
 things she wished as she stood there. And one 
 was that the tempest would take a real good
 
 12 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 hold of the cottage and blow it down, so that 
 she might get out. 
 
 But, but It began to look rather strange. 
 
 Whilst she stood looking at the birches, she 
 thought that every minute they seemed to 
 sway less violently. The din and racket too, 
 which had come with the storm, seemed less, 
 and there were no more sticks and straws flying 
 about. She scarcely knew if she dared believe 
 her eyes, but now it was so quiet that really and 
 truly the long hanging branches of the birches 
 only quivered very little. 
 
 The cottage-folk sat chatting to Little-Lad, 
 and never noticed anything until Little-Maid 
 told them that the storm was at an end. 
 
 They were so astonished, and at once said 
 what a pity it was it had not stopped sooner, so 
 that the children could have gone to the 
 Christmas feast. For it was no fun for children 
 to be sitting there with them all day, that they 
 could understand. 
 
 Then Little-Maid said that, if need be, she 
 could take Little-Lad with her and go to 
 Nugord. It was a plain road, so she could not 
 miss the way, and there couldn't be any danger, 
 either, in broad daylight. 
 
 They were really such kind folk ! They 
 wouldn't vex any living creature, so they let 
 them go, both Little-Maid and Little-Lad. 
 
 Now everything was all right. The weather 
 was fine and calm, it was easy walking, and there 
 was no one to order Little-Maid to sit still, or 
 turn back when she wanted to go on. Still, 
 there was just one thing that made her uneasy.
 
 The Storm-wind 13 
 
 The sun seemed to be sinking so quickly in 
 the southern sky. She did not know what time 
 it was, but fancy if it were so late that they 
 were already sitting down to dinner in Nugord ! 
 
 She still had six whole miles to walk. Just 
 fancy if she only got there in time for empty 
 saucepans and bare bones ! 
 
 Little-Lad was only seven years old, so 
 couldn't get along dreadfully quickly. He was 
 tired, and dispirited too, after all he had gone 
 through that day. 
 
 When they stood in the hollow at the foot of 
 Hedeby Hill, Little-Maid stopped and looked at 
 Loven which lay below covered with hard, 
 shining ice. 
 
 She asked if Little-Lad remembered when 
 Mother had come home and said that Loven 
 was frozen. She had been so amazed that the 
 lake was covered with ice before Christmas 
 that she had talked of nothing else all evening. 
 ' Yes, that was two days before Christmas 
 Eve," said Lit tie -Lad. He was certain of 
 that. 
 
 " Then it has been frozen four full days," 
 answered Little-Maid. " I am sure and certain 
 it is strong enough to bear us now/' 
 
 Little-Lad plucked up heart again as soon as 
 he understood that she was talking about going 
 on the lake. 
 
 " We can slide all the way to Nugord," he 
 screamed. 
 
 "Well, of course," said Little-Maid, "it 
 would be quite handy to go that way, as 
 Nugord lies on the bank "
 
 14 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 She had her doubts too, but now it was 
 Little-Lad who insisted. He wouldn't hear a 
 word of the high road, and was for marching 
 straight off to the lake. 
 
 " You must tell Mother you would do it," 
 said Little-Maid, " for she is never cross with 
 you." 
 
 It was not far down to the lake, and they were 
 soon standing on the ice. They took hands and 
 slid down Loven. That was better than 
 trudging along the high road. In that fashion 
 there wasn't much doubt that they would get 
 to Nugord before the great Christmas dinner 
 was finished. 
 
 But then Little-Maid heard a roar, and a rush 
 behind her a roar she recognised only too well. 
 She didn't need to give even one look to know 
 what it was when she felt it in the back of 
 her neck that terrible storm beginning once 
 more. 
 
 It seemed as though it had only kept quiet 
 just to tempt the children out on the ice. And 
 now it came, took hold of them and threw them 
 down. 
 
 When once the wind had begun again, it 
 was utterly impossible for them to go on the lake. 
 They could not even keep on their feet. There 
 was nothing for it but to creep on to the land 
 again. 
 
 Now indeed it looked as if Little-Maid were 
 conquered at last. She had brought them to 
 such a pass that it seemed very doubtful 
 if they would ever see a human face again. 
 They could not go on the lake, and when they
 
 The Storm-wind 15 
 
 got to the land there was nothing but sheer 
 mountain-side, and dense forest with never a 
 path to be seen. 
 
 And Little-Lad was so tired and downhearted 
 over everything that he could do nothing but 
 cry. Little-Maid too for a time stood quite 
 still on the shore with a crestfallen look on her 
 face. 
 
 Soon, however, she remembered how she and 
 Little-Lad used to coast down the hill-side at 
 home, when it was covered with ice. So she 
 began at once to break off pine branches and 
 lay them together in two heaps. On one she 
 set Little-Lad, and then knelt down and pushed 
 him and the two pine heaps on to the ice again. 
 When they got out where the wind was strongest 
 she seated herself on the other heap, and she and 
 Little-Lad each took a fine green bough in their 
 hands and held them up against the wind. 
 
 " Hurrah ! " said the storm-wind, " hurrah ! " 
 it shouted. Down it rushed upon them, and 
 swung them to one side as if it wanted to see 
 if it was as strong as they. 
 
 Then it got a good firm hold, and away they 
 went on and on like the wind itself. They 
 never even felt its icy breath ; they could 
 almost have believed they were sitting still, if 
 they had not seen the shores rushing past. 
 
 Little-Lad screamed with joy, but Little- 
 Maid sat with set mouth watching if any fresh 
 difficulty was going to come between her and 
 the Christmas dinner. It was the quickest 
 journey she had ever made, for it was but a 
 few moments before they saw the great Nugord
 
 1 6 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 houses rising before them on the shores of the 
 bay. 
 
 The people of Nugord caught sight of them, 
 just as they were going in to dinner, and they 
 were obliged to run out and see what wonderful 
 thing it was tearing down the lake. And no 
 words can describe the amazement of Per Jansa, 
 of Per Jansa's wife, of the Pastor and all the 
 guests, when they saw them. The only person 
 who did not look particularly astonished was 
 Mother. " The lass doesn't give in before she 
 gets her will," she said. " I have been expect- 
 ing all the time to see her come flying along on 
 a broom-handle." 
 
 But the others talked of nothing else all 
 evening but the Little-Maid and of what a 
 capable woman she would be. 
 
 Mother sat for a long time on the sofa beside 
 the Pastor's wife telling all about her. She was 
 not so bad at spinning, young as she was ; she 
 could card wool too, and all last summer she 
 had picked berries and sold them in Helgesater. 
 Then the Captain's wife had given her an A B C 
 book, and one of the young ladies of Helgesater 
 had helped her a little, so that now she could 
 both read and write. 
 
 The Pastor of Svartsjo had been a widower 
 for many years, but that summer he had married 
 again. His new wife was a little body with 
 quite white hair, but with a good complexion 
 and an un wrinkled face. There was no one who 
 dared to guess her age. She was reported to be 
 a wonderful manager, and folks said too that 
 she could tell at first sight what anyone was
 
 The Storm- wind 17 
 
 capable of. Now this new wife told Mother 
 that she had been thinking for some time of 
 taking a young girl into the house to wait on 
 her stepdaughter, so that the housemaid could 
 get more time for weaving. She asked Mother 
 if she would have any objection to letting 
 Little-Maid come to the Parsonage next autumn. 
 
 Any objection indeed ! What a question ! 
 Mother could not imagine any better fortune 
 for Little-Maid than to go to service in Lovdala. 
 
 All evening the Pastor's wife sat and followed 
 Little-Maid with her eyes. It seemed as though 
 she could think of no one else. 
 
 After a time she beckoned to Mother again. 
 
 "Is it true," she asked, " that the child can 
 read and write ? ' ; 
 
 Mother assured her that it v:as true enough. 
 ' Well, then, we will arrange for her to come 
 to the Parsonage at once," said the Pastor's 
 wife. " You can pass Lovdala when you go 
 home to-morrow from this Christmas feast, and 
 leave her on your way." 
 
 And so it was arranged. 
 
 But the Pastor's wife still sat, after as before, 
 looking at Little-Maid as though she could not 
 keep her eyes off her. After a little she wanted 
 to speak once more to Marit of Koltorp. 
 
 " What is your daughter's name ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 ' Well, her name is Eleonora, but we always 
 call her Nora." 
 
 " And it is really true that she can read and 
 write not just an idle boast ? " said the Pastor's 
 wife.
 
 1 8 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 "No," Mother told her; "it is the honest 
 truth." 
 
 " I have been thinking she might as well 
 drive home with us in our sledge to-night," 
 said the Pastor's wife. ' We are just wanting 
 a girl like her at Lovdala, so she may as well 
 begin her work at once." 
 
 It was settled as the Pastor's wife wished, of 
 course. She was not a woman that people 
 cared to contradict.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE SPINNING-WHEELS 
 
 THE tall old grandfather's clock which 
 stood in the kitchen bedroom at Lovdala 
 struck six with a rattle, as though the heavy 
 weights were crashing into the nethermost 
 depths, and woke Little-Maid, as she lay 
 sleeping on three chairs, the insecure bed that 
 had been hastily arranged for her late the night 
 before. 
 
 She sprang out of bed with a scream, and 
 rushed into the middle of the room. She had 
 been dreaming that she was in her coffin, and 
 was just going to be buried with the church bells 
 tolling above her. But as her feet touched the 
 cold floor she became at once fully awake. 
 Supposing there was anyone in the room to hear 
 how she had screamed ? How the Parsonage 
 maids would laugh if they found out she had 
 been afraid of the clock. She did not under- 
 stand why she had been frightened, for, although 
 they had no clocks at Koltorp, yet in Nugord 
 there were striking clocks both in the large 
 sitting-room and in the little bedroom, so that 
 it was no new sound to her. 
 
 It was not quite dark in the bedroom. A 
 couple of small logs of wood were burning in 
 
 19
 
 2O Liliecrona's Home 
 
 the stove in the far corner, so that she could 
 see a little. No, there was no one else in the 
 room. The narrow wooden couch where Mam- 
 sell Maia Lisa, the Pastor's daughter, had been 
 lying when she came the night before, was not 
 only empty, but made up for the day. 
 
 But if Mamsell Maia Lisa was up, it was high 
 time she dressed too. 
 
 She put a piece of wood on the fire ; if it 
 would only burn up brightly enough to let her 
 find her shoes, stockings, and other garments, 
 she would soon be ready. 
 
 How strange it was to be here, dressing herself 
 in the kitchen bedroom of the Parsonage, the 
 very same Lovdala where her Mother had been 
 nursemaid before she married Father. She 
 wondered if she would ever love it as much as 
 Mother had done. 
 
 There was no one in the world except, of 
 course, Little-Lad whom Mother loved so 
 dearly as the Pastor's daughter. She spoke of 
 her as if she were a princess. 
 
 The Pastor's daughter was so beautiful that 
 when she went out riding or driving people left 
 their work and stood near the garden just to 
 look at her. 
 
 The Pastor was a person of great importance 
 in the parish, but he used to say that no one 
 thought much of him in comparison with his 
 daughter. He was an outsider, but she was 
 one of the family who had been Pastors there 
 for a hundred years, and it was she alone 
 who would inherit Lovdala and the parish as 
 well. -*'
 
 The Spinning-wheels 21 
 
 It had almost irritated Little-Maid to hear 
 so much about the Pastor's daughter. It had 
 almost seemed as though no one else was of any 
 account where she was concerned. At any rate, 
 it would be nice to have the chance of seeing 
 her now. 
 
 If only she knew what the humming was that 
 she heard as she dressed. Could it be yesterday's 
 tempest still in her ears ? or had the storm be- 
 gun to rage again ? Yet what she heard was 
 not so much like wind as the steady hum of a 
 mill. 
 
 At last she was dressed and opened the 
 kitchen door. 
 
 No wonder it had hummed ! 
 
 The whole kitchen was full of spinning- 
 wheels and spinners wheels and spinners, one 
 behind the other until she could see no end to 
 them. 
 
 She turned so dizzy that she had to stop a 
 moment on the threshold. Three spinning- 
 wheels going at once in a room were the most 
 she had ever seen before. But however many 
 were there here ? She wondered if she would be 
 able to count them. 
 
 It was so dark, too, in the kitchen that it was 
 no easy matter to make things out. A few 
 resinous, knotty pieces of juniper root were 
 burning in an iron basket hanging from a tall 
 iron pole rising from the hearth, and that was 
 all. And not only the bad light made it difficult 
 to see, but spinners and wheels alike were half 
 hidden in the cloud of dust rising from their 
 work.
 
 22 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 Never, however, had she seen such a sight. 
 As she stood looking upon the spinning-wheels 
 with their treadles and spindles, and upon the 
 busy hands and fingers, she grew more and more 
 dizzy. 
 
 To master her thoughts she began to ask 
 herself questions as her Mother had advised 
 her. 
 
 " How many skeins of yarn are spun in this 
 kitchen every single morning ? And how many 
 bundles of skeins are already hanging in the 
 garret ? And how many looms would have 
 to be started in the spring to weave up all the 
 yarn ? And how many lengths of linen would 
 have to be laid out afterwards to bleach ? And 
 how many " 
 
 There now, the dizzy feeling had gone. 
 
 She could venture to step in now amongst the 
 spinning-wheels. 
 
 There were not such a terrible number as 
 she had thought at first, although there were 
 not very few either. They stood in a long ir- 
 regular line from the chimney, right away to 
 the door. 
 
 Nearest the chimney and the glimmer of 
 light sat the Pastor's wife, spinning fine white 
 cotton on a wheel inlaid with yellow. Behind 
 her sat someone whom she could guess was the 
 old housekeeper that Mother used to talk about, 
 with a spinning-wheel painted red and green. 
 Beyond her sat five young girls cook, house- 
 maid, kitchenmaid, dairymaid, and brewhouse 
 maid all spinning fine linen yarn on ordinary, 
 unpainted wheels. Still farther off sat a crofter-
 
 The Spinning-wheels 23 
 
 woman, with a humpback, spinning light blue 
 yarn on a poor old wheel. And farthest away of 
 all, down by the kitchen door, in the cold 
 draught from the passage, and in almost utter 
 darkness, there was still one more spinner. 
 She had a wheel with three of its spokes gone, 
 the string was full of knots, the treadle out of 
 order, and she was spinning coarse flax so rough 
 and full of bits that anywhere else it would not 
 have been thought worth using. But the spinner 
 sitting there seemed to spin it as easily and 
 quickly as the others their fine flax. 
 
 Who this might be Little-Maid could not 
 imagine. Surely someone who had come to the 
 Parsonage as a learner. 
 
 " You poor thing," she thought, " you have a 
 bad time of it ; you are evidently in the Pastor- 
 wife's black books." 
 
 There were no more than these in the kitchen, 
 and she couldn't imagine what had made her 
 think there were such an endless number. 
 
 They all of them did nothing but spin and 
 spin. Mother used to sing or tell tales whilst she 
 worked, but not one of these ever opened her 
 lips. 
 
 The Pastor's wife beckoned to Little-Maid. 
 She was to hand her carded cotton out of a 
 basket on the floor to save her having to 
 stoop. 
 
 And this Little-Maid did for ever so long. 
 The wheels hummed, treadles went, and spindles 
 flew round. She began to grow dizzy once more, 
 and was obliged to steady her brain again by 
 asking the same useful questions.
 
 24 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 " How many skeins of yarn can they spin here 
 in a single morning ? And how many bundles 
 of skeins are already " 
 
 But how was it she had not yet caught sight 
 of the Pastor's daughter ? Surely she would be 
 sitting there spinning, as well as the Pastor's 
 wife. But perhaps it was almost foolish to 
 expect to find her spinning with the maids. 
 She was too fine for that, of course, such a 
 dainty little lady as she was. 
 
 Why, she was to inherit Lovdala and all the 
 parish as well. No doubt she was sitting on the 
 parlour sofa, embroidering flowers on a piece of 
 silk. 
 
 Stay, what was wrong now ? There was 
 certainly someone doing what they shouldn't, 
 for the Pastor's wife kept turning her head time 
 after time towards the door. 
 
 Time had crept on now so far that it was 
 getting light. The grey dawn came creeping in 
 through the tiny window-panes. 
 
 Even right down the room, where Little-Maid 
 was standing, she could see that the spinner 
 sitting nearest the door had left off working. 
 She was not asleep, but sitting with her hand 
 on her wheel, gazing before her. But she 
 did not seem to see what was passing in the 
 room. 
 
 And certainly she did not know that the 
 Pastor's wife had noticed that her spinning- 
 wheel had stopped. 
 
 What a gentle, bright face that far-away 
 spinner had, and what great serious blue eyes ! 
 She did not look as though she could have
 
 The Spinning-wheels 25 
 
 stopped from idleness, but only because she 
 was obliged to sit still and think. 
 
 But every moment that passed the Pastor's 
 wife set her mouth harder and harder, until 
 she looked so stern that Little-Maid felt afraid 
 of her. 
 
 Now she stopped her wheel too, and stood 
 up. And the other one still sat quiet and never 
 noticed that the Pastor's wife was making her 
 way between the spinning-wheels down to the 
 door. She never stirred until the Pastor's wife 
 stood over her and laid her hand on her neck. 
 Then she uttered a little cry and tried to free 
 herself, but the Pastor's wife had taken too firm 
 a grasp of the little neck. With one hand she 
 forced her back, and with the other she took the 
 bundle of coarse flax from the distaff, pressed 
 it on her face, and scrubbed it round and 
 round. 
 
 " I suppose we are not all of us sitting here 
 working for you ! " she said roughly, in a 
 harsh voice. " And there you sit and go to 
 sleep." 
 
 Little-Maid all but cried out " Never, never ! " 
 Was that the Pastor's daughter ? But it 
 couldn't be anyone else that they were all 
 working for. 
 
 The Pastor's wife gave her a last violent 
 shake, threw the bundle of flax on the floor, and 
 went back to her place. 
 
 But at the same moment the housekeeper 
 and the five maids and the crofter-woman 
 got up from their chairs and pushed aside their 
 wheels.
 
 26 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 The Pastor's wife turned to the housekeeper 
 with an astonished look. 
 
 " I think," said the housekeeper, " that 
 Madam knows that the maids are not required 
 to spin whilst the Christmas holiday lasts, but 
 it is the custom for us to have the time to our- 
 selves and for our own work. And no doubt 
 Madam knows too, that if we were to go and ask 
 the Pastor, he would say we were to do as we 
 have always done. We have been spinning 
 all the morning because Mamsell Maia Lisa 
 begged us to do as Madam wished ; but now we 
 stop, for we can see that whatever is done 
 Madam treats her just as badly as ever." 
 
 When that was said, the housekeeper with all 
 five maids and the crofter-woman picked up the 
 spinning-wheels to carry them out of the 
 kitchen. 
 
 But the Pastor's wife stepped quickly up to 
 the door. 
 
 " Not a single spinning-wheel goes out of the 
 kitchen with my consent," she said. 
 
 But the housekeeper went up to her without 
 hesitation, for she felt she had right on her 
 side. It looked as though something dreadful 
 would happen in another minute. 
 
 But instead something quite unforeseen took 
 place. 
 
 The Pastor's wife glanced round about, as 
 though to see if anyone would help her. Her 
 eyes fell on Little-Maid, and when she saw how 
 the child stood staring at her in an agony of 
 fear, as if she saw an evil spirit, she was trans- 
 formed in a moment.
 
 The Spinning-wheels 27 
 
 She went away from the door just as the 
 housekeeper had come within a yard of it. 
 
 " Fair is fair/' she said. " If, as Kaisa says, 
 it is the custom for you to have a holiday at 
 Christmas, you can have it this year too. 
 But you might have explained civilly and not 
 been so insolent." 
 
 " We can remember that next time," an- 
 swered the housekeeper sullenly. 
 
 There was no time for more, for a little bell 
 was heard ringing through the house. 
 
 ' There's the Pastor ringing for morning 
 prayers," said the housekeeper. " We must put 
 away the spinning-wheels later." 
 
 They all went towards the hall door, but 
 Little-Maid stood as if she could not stir. 
 " How could it be the Pastor's daughter sitting 
 away there by the door, spinning that coarse 
 flax ? It was a crying sin and shame. If only 
 Mother knew of it ! " 
 
 The maids tramped out in a long row, and 
 the kitchen was empty, when the Pastor's 
 daughter, who went last, turned and held out 
 her hand. 
 
 " You must come to morning prayers too." 
 What a gentle voice she had, and what a pretty, 
 soft little hand ! Little-Maid put hers in it, 
 rather shyly at first, but as they walked across 
 the hall she clasped her fingers tighter and 
 tighter. When they reached the door to the 
 Pastor's room the Pastor's daughter bent down 
 to Little-Maid. 
 
 " I hear you are the daughter of Marit, my 
 old nurse."
 
 28 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 " Yes," said Little-Maid, " and I have come 
 here to help you." 
 
 The Pastor's daughter smiled. 
 
 " Yes, little one," she said ; " indeed I need 
 someone badly enough to help me."
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE BLACK LAKE 
 
 ALL five maids were sitting with their 
 thimbles on and needle and thread on the 
 table beside them, mending old clothes. It 
 was evident that, like tailors, they preferred a 
 high seat for sewing, for all five of them were 
 perched up on the high table-benches. Only 
 the old housekeeper was sitting on a chair. 
 
 Little-Maid was standing at the window, 
 looking out. Before her lay a great courtyard 
 with cleared paths between high banks of snow. 
 There were great buildings on all sides, and 
 Little-Maid was trying from her mother's 
 description to make out which was which. 
 The long, low house exactly opposite the main 
 building was, no doubt, the dairy; the stable 
 lay to the east, and the brew-house with the 
 room belonging to it on the west. 
 
 The houses were not built close to one another, 
 but were separated by a fence, so that the only 
 way to get to the main building was through a 
 narrow gate left open now in winter-time. To 
 the east of the stable she could see the gables 
 and roofs of a number of buildings, standing 
 round another and still larger courtyard. There 
 was the sheep-house, the piggery, the larder, 
 
 29
 
 30 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 and the storeroom, the lofts for rye and oats, 
 the barns and wood-house, the servants' room, 
 and the tool-sheds. Several of the buildings 
 stood on piles, others had steps that twisted up 
 the walls to the eaves, where they crept into a 
 low garret. Wherever she looked, there were 
 annexes and extra buildings, garrets with small, 
 dark windows, and long, cold passages. Most 
 of the houses had thick roofs of straw or turf, 
 now covered with another of heaped-up snow. 
 It seemed to Little-Maid as though they were 
 all warmly tucked in under soft rugs and furs. 
 A quiet peace reigned over everything as if 
 the old houses were taking their winter sleep. 
 
 One of the maids was new and came, besides, 
 from another parish. So she thought she would 
 make use of this quiet hour to learn something 
 about her master and mistress. She had 
 asked question after question about the Pastor's 
 daughter and wife as well as the Pastor himself, 
 but never an answer had she got. All the others 
 sat with tight-closed lips and pretended they 
 knew nothing. 
 
 Possibly she noticed at last that she could 
 get nothing out of them, for now she began to 
 put other questions. " Why is this parish 
 called Black Lake ? " She could not under- 
 stand how it got its name, for, although she 
 had heard that there were three lakes in Loven, 
 she knew none of them was called Black Lake. 
 
 Well, there was no harm in answering this 
 question, but, unfortunately, none of the maids 
 knew where the parish had got its name. So 
 it seemed as though she was not going to get
 
 The Black Lake 3 1 
 
 this answered either. But then the old house- 
 keeper put down her work and took her spec- 
 tacles off her nose. 
 
 There was nothing strange in the name, for 
 the parish was so called after a lake which used 
 to be there but was dried up now. 
 
 The new maid was overjoyed at getting an 
 answer at last, and hastened to ask where- 
 abouts the lake had lain. 
 
 " Well, now, it is said to have lain in the 
 valley below Lovdala," and the housekeeper 
 turned and pointed out of the south window. 
 She thought the water had reached the rising 
 ground before the brew-house. At any rate 
 there was fine sand there like the sand on a 
 lake-side. 
 
 The new maid turned her head, too, towards 
 the window. The dwelling-house lay on fairly 
 high ground and the houses round were too 
 low to shut out the view. Over the dairy fence 
 she could see down a six-mile valley with a 
 grassy bed as level as a floor. 
 
 But she would not believe that the house- 
 keeper really meant this was the bed of an old 
 lake. She had always thought the ground 
 would be a steep hollow where a lake had once 
 been. 
 
 The housekeeper did not contradict her. 
 She did not trouble what the brew-house maid 
 thought. She had only spoken of what she 
 knew. 
 
 And with this she put her glasses on and 
 began to sew again. 
 
 The new maid gave a scornful sniff. It was
 
 32 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 a strange thing that old folk never could bear 
 to be contradicted. They expected people to 
 believe whatever they took a fancy to say. 
 
 None of the other maids said a word to help 
 the housekeeper. 
 
 The kitchen grew quite silent. Little-Maid 
 was very anxious to tell what she knew about 
 this Black Lake, but she was not sure if it 
 would be fitting for her to join in the con- 
 versation. 
 
 Then the bedroom door opened and Mamsell 
 Maia Lisa came out into the kitchen. 
 
 At first she said nothing, but stood looking 
 at the workers. Then she went up to Little- 
 Maid, who still kept her place by the window. 
 
 " Tell me, Nora," she said, sitting down on 
 the wooden chair under the window and 
 taking Little-Maid's hand in both of hers, 
 " have you ever travelled far enough to see 
 any other lake but Loven ? '' 
 
 Little-Maid blushed crimson when the Pastor's 
 daughter spoke to her. It was as much as ever 
 she could do to speak above a whisper, when 
 she answered that she had seen more lakes 
 than she could count. 
 
 " Then do me the favour and think of one 
 of them," said the Pastor's daughter ; " which- 
 ever you like, provided it is long and narrow 
 and lies between two long lines of wooded 
 hills." 
 
 Little-Maid dropped her chin on her chest 
 and fixed her eyes on the ground ; but soon 
 she looked up again. Now she had thought 
 of one.
 
 The Black Lake 33 
 
 There was mischief in the glance the Pastor's 
 daughter gave her, but her voice was terribly 
 serious all the time. 
 
 " Do you see it quite plainly ? " she asked. 
 " Do you see a gay little river running into it 
 from the north, and that it gets narrower 
 and narrower towards the south until there is 
 nothing left but another little stream ? ''' 
 
 Yes, Little-Maid saw that. 
 
 " If you see so much, no doubt you see, too, 
 how its shores go out and in, in long gulfs and 
 bays. And that here and there narrow little 
 headlands jut out, covered with birches over- 
 hanging the water. And small stony islands 
 lie out in its channel, overgrown with mountain- 
 ash and wild cherry trees that are as gay in 
 their spring blossoms as any royal bride/' 
 
 Yes, indeed, Little-Maid saw everything that 
 the Pastor's daughter wanted her to see. 
 
 Mamsell Maia Lisa looked through the window 
 down the long valley. Then she turned to 
 Little-Maid smiling, but spoke with a tone in 
 her voice as if she wanted her to remember her 
 words. 
 
 " If you see so much, no doubt you see, too, 
 that on one side there is a sandy shore, generally 
 full of children who bathe the whole summer 
 through, and at another spot there is a steep 
 mountain-side where great dark pines grow 
 with their thick roots intertwined like snakes. 
 And farther on, the shore is marshy with alder 
 bushes crowding upon each other, and farther 
 away still there lie beautiful smooth meadows 
 with cattle grazing in them."
 
 34 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 Little-Maid was clever enough to see these 
 too. 
 
 " If you see so much, no doubt you see, too, 
 the great stones on the edge of the shore where 
 people stand on Sundays to fish for perch," 
 said the Pastor's daughter, " and the small 
 oak rods lying in bundles on the land, and the 
 little fisher huts standing old and grey out on 
 the headlands." 
 
 " Yes," said Little-Maid ; she saw that and 
 more. 
 
 " Yes, if you see that, no doubt you see, too, 
 that the whole lake is encircled by peasant 
 houses with their fields and gardens, but they are 
 not so close to the water as the fisher huts, 
 but lie a good bit inland. Above these there 
 lies a little forest clearing and a few birch woods, 
 but then the mountain is covered far and wide 
 with pine forests right up to the very top." 
 
 " Yes," Little-Maid saw that too. 
 
 Now the pastor's daughter grew thoughtful 
 all at once. 
 
 " But now comes the hardest. If, one fine 
 day, the lake that you have thought of should 
 dry up so that not a drop of water was left, 
 what do you think the place would look like 
 where it had been ? ' 
 
 But that was beyond Little-Maid. She only 
 fixed her eyes on the Pastor's daughter. 
 
 " I don't know exactly either," said the 
 Pastor's daughter, " but I fancy that after 
 some years grass would grow over the bed 
 of the lake, and it would be enclosed, cultivated, 
 divided, and marked out into gardens and roads
 
 The Black Lake 35 
 
 like any other land ; but otherwise it would 
 be much the same as before." 
 
 Little-Maid stood staring in front of her. 
 She looked indeed quite lost. 
 
 " No doubt you have been in the hall at 
 Helgesater sometime, and seen the great gilt 
 mirror hanging between the windows. The 
 glass was broken this year and the Captain 
 could not put a new one in, so he covered the 
 back with green cloth. But the gilt frame re- 
 mained the same. There was only this differ- 
 ence, that there was no longer a mirror inside it." 
 
 Little-Maid looked up quickly. She began 
 to understand. 
 
 "So it was no doubt with the lake we have 
 been talking about," said the Pastor's daughter. 
 " Everything on the shore remained the same, 
 although the clear water which used to lie in 
 the middle had gone. The birches hung down 
 their branches on the headlands, though they 
 could no longer see their own reflection, the 
 sandy shore lay in its old place, although no 
 summer bathers came again, and the fishing 
 stones were there too, although there were 
 no more fishers. The little islands were 
 still covered with mountain-ashes, although 
 ploughed fields lay all around them, and all 
 the houses kept their places round the lake, 
 although the young folks who lived in them 
 could no longer go sailing and rowing on the 
 lake in the beautiful summer evenings." 
 
 Yes, Little-Maid could agree to that too. 
 
 But then the Pastor's daughter turned quickly 
 to the window.
 
 36 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 " Look out, Nora, and you others, too," she 
 said, pointing to the long valley. " What do 
 you think it is that you see down there ? " 
 
 And sure enough, when Little-Maid peeped 
 out, she saw in one glance all that the Pastor's 
 daughter had described. There lay the level 
 bed, and the old shores round it going out and 
 in, in long gulfs and bays. There were the 
 headlands with their birches, and in the fields 
 the little copses that had been wooded islands 
 before, and on one side the steep mountain 
 with its pine forest, and on the other the 
 crowded alder bushes. Half-way up the moun- 
 tain she saw the circle of peasant cottages. 
 And the wooded hills and clearings and every- 
 thing else was there. 
 
 The maids stood behind her and they, too, 
 looked and saw the same as she did. 
 
 However was it that they had never noticed 
 it before ? 
 
 It was certainly true that Black Lake had 
 lain there once ; it was the bed of an old lake 
 sure enough. 
 
 " Yes, that is just what it is," said the Pastor's 
 daughter. " That is the mirror which once 
 lay before Lovdala, but it has lost its glass 
 now. There are very many who think it is a 
 pity that it is gone and that the mirror is a 
 mirror no longer." 
 
 But now Little-Maid's heart was bursting 
 with desire to say all she knew about the lake ; 
 she could not keep silence any longer. 
 
 " Mother used to talk about this lake that is 
 said to have lain below Lovdala," she said.
 
 The Black Lake 37 
 
 " Yes," said the Pastor's daughter, " I expect 
 you have heard a good deal about Lovdala 
 from your Mother." 
 
 " Mother said," continued Little-Maid, speak- 
 ing very fast, " that there were three things 
 the lake left behind when it dried up. One 
 was the cold breeze that always blows in the 
 valley here, the second was the cold fog that 
 rises in the autumn, and the third was " 
 
 But Little-Maid never got to the third, for 
 the Pastor's daughter interrupted her sharply. 
 
 " Just so, there was something else," she said. 
 " We know what that was already."
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 SNOW-WHITE 
 
 SUCH a chitter-chattering was going on in 
 the kitchen bedroom at Lovdala that 
 Little-Maid could not possibly get a wink of 
 sleep, although she was lying that night in a 
 real little bed which had been moved in for 
 her. 
 
 Mamsell Maia Lisa's foster-sister, Anna Bro- 
 gren, who had married Provost Lovstedt in 
 Ransater, had come on a visit and was to stay 
 till next day. The spare room had been put 
 ready for her, but no sooner had the Pastor 
 and his wife gone to bed than she had come 
 creeping downstairs again. 
 
 She had, of course, wanted to have a private 
 talk with Mamsell Maia Lisa, and she was 
 disappointed to see Little-Maid in bed there too. 
 Time after time she went to look and listen if 
 she was asleep. At last Little-Maid lay quiet 
 as a mouse, for she was sorry to be in their way. 
 
 " She must be asleep by now," said the 
 Provost's wife, as she took the candle and went 
 once more to Little-Maid's bed. 
 
 "No, that she isn't," said the Pastor's 
 daughter ; " how can you expect it after all 
 our chattering ? ' 
 
 3*
 
 Snow- White 39 
 
 " Perhaps we had better be quiet for a little," 
 suggested Anna Brogren. 
 
 They had been silent not more than two 
 minutes when Anna Brogren felt quite sure 
 that the child would be asleep now, and a 
 good thing too, for she was not going to leave 
 Lovdala until she had heard how everything 
 had happened, even though she had to sit all 
 nigjht long. 
 
 " She is not asleep, that I am certain of," 
 answered the Pastor's daughter. " But we 
 will manage another way. I will tell you a 
 tale whilst we wait. I expect you remember of 
 old many a tale of mine." 
 
 " I am afraid that's just the way to wake 
 her up," objected Anna Brogren, " but do as 
 you like. What tale is it to be ? " 
 
 " I think I'll tell you the story of Snow- 
 White." 
 
 " Oh, that one," said Anna in no very pleased 
 tone. "It is a long time since I last heard 
 that." 
 
 " You know there was once a Pastor's wife," 
 began Maia Lisa, " who was so vexed that she 
 had no children." 
 
 " No, no, you are telling it all wrong," said 
 Anna Brogren. " It was surely a queen." 
 
 " I have always heard it was a Pastor's wife," 
 answered Maia Lisa, " and I cannot tell the 
 tale in any other way." 
 
 And she continued to tell of the Pastor's 
 wife who had longed for a daughter, as red as 
 blood and as white as snow, and who died when 
 her wish was granted.
 
 4-O Liliecrona's Home 
 
 " I think we might talk about something 
 a little more cheerful," said her foster- 
 sister. 
 
 " I can understand that you have not for- 
 gotten the story," continued the Pastor's 
 daughter, " and so I will not talk of little 
 Snow- White's childhood. You will remember 
 that it was free from sorrow, although she was 
 motherless, for she had a kind aunt to look 
 after her home, a kind foster-sister, and a dear 
 old Grandmother. But the kindest and dearest 
 of all was her dear Father. He was her gentlest 
 playfellow, and to him she went in all her 
 troubles. He never would have her kept 
 strictly like other children, but she did just 
 as she wished. People said of course that he 
 was spoiling her, but he would not hear a word 
 of it." 
 
 " Perhaps little Snow- White was too good to 
 be spoilt," said Anna Brogren, in a strangely 
 grave tone. 
 
 ''Never anyone was happier than Snow- 
 White," went on the Pastor's daughter, " es- 
 pecially when her aunt left and she had to 
 manage the house herself and look after her 
 dear Father. For many years her only sorrow 
 was when her foster-sister married and moved 
 to another parish. And if at that time anyone 
 had told her that her Father would turn against 
 her, I think she would only have laughed 
 aloud. How could dear Father and she ever 
 quarrel ? Not even in her dreams could she 
 imagine such madness." 
 
 " And certainly no one else either would have
 
 Snow- White 4 1 
 
 believed it could happen," said Anna Brogren 
 in the same serious tone as before. 
 
 ' And Snow- White was never farther from 
 thinking of such a great misfortune than one 
 lovely morning last summer, when she went out 
 with her Father to see the hay-crop." 
 
 ' Was that last summer ? " interrupted Anna 
 Brogren. " I thought Snow- White lived a 
 thousand years ago." 
 
 " I have always heard that Snow- White is still 
 living," said the Pastor's daughter, " and the 
 day she went out with her dear Father, she 
 was just seventeen years old and he was fifty, 
 although he scarcely looked it. He wore a 
 peruke and no hat, his shirt-front was finely 
 frilled, and great buckles shone on his shoes. 
 In Snow- White's eyes he was very handsome, 
 for she had on her old cotton frock and big sun- 
 bonnet, and seemed of no importance beside 
 her Father." 
 
 " I have always heard that nobody was so 
 beautiful as little Snow- White," interrupted 
 her foster-sister, but the Pastor's daughter 
 went on without heeding her. 
 
 " The sun-bonnet, however, was very con- 
 venient, as it hid her face, for otherwise her dear 
 Father, might have seen that she looked any- 
 thing but pleased. 
 
 " Alas, alas ! I am thinking why Snow- White 
 was vexed at having to go out with her Father 
 just then. She had wanted to stay at her loom 
 and get on with her linen- weaving. But when 
 he had come himself to the bedroom window to 
 call her she could not possibly say 'no',"
 
 42 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 " I do not believe she could ever say 'no' to 
 dear Father," said her foster-sister. 
 
 ' They went past the dairy and calf-pasture, 
 for they were on their way to the south field 
 where Long-Bengt and the Vetter-lads were 
 busy mowing grass. It was not far, but it 
 always meant plenty of time to go out with her 
 Father. 
 
 " He stopped to look at the cows and he 
 stopped to talk to the dairy-maid. When they 
 came to the birches on the hill, he stopped again 
 to prop up a young fir tree that had been blown 
 down. 
 
 " But now I must tell you that Snow- White 
 could never be cross very long when she was 
 with dear Father. She was always so full of 
 wonder that he was just what he was. 
 
 " And, in my opinion, Snow- White was not 
 wrong in thinking it noble and kind of Father 
 to stay all his life as assistant-pastor in a poor 
 little far-away parish of far-away Varmland. 
 With his learning and irresistible eloquence, 
 added to his dignity and charm of manner, he 
 could surely have become a dean or a bishop 
 if he had only been willing. Don't you think so, 
 too ? " 
 
 " It is not easy for me to say anything about 
 Snow-White's Father," said Anna Brogren. 
 " But I should certainly think he could have 
 risen to any post he wished." 
 
 " I cannot be certain of Snow- White's feelings, 
 but I fancy she said to herself, ' You, Snow- 
 White, who know nothing, who are nothing, 
 and who have seen nothing, are you not ashamed
 
 Snow- White 43 
 
 to go about in a bad temper ? Just think of 
 Father who never complains, never wants 
 anything for himself, and always carries a 
 bright face ! ' Snow- White made excuse that 
 she would so have liked to finish her weaving 
 before she left home. For she had no choice 
 but to go that summer to Loka Wells with her 
 Grandmother. Last winter had plagued her 
 terribly ; it broke one's heart to see how her 
 hands suffered. All spring, Snow- White had 
 urged her to go for a change, but she knew her 
 Grandmother would never go without her. 
 
 " She knew she ought to ask her Father to 
 fix a day for their journey. But she shrank 
 from doing it. Did she not know that dear 
 Father was sorry to lose her for six whole weeks, 
 and put it off as long as he could ? 
 
 " So she walked along making conditions 
 with herself : if there was a fine hay-crop on 
 the south field, so that Father was really pleased, 
 then she would pluck up courage and speak 
 about the journey. 
 
 " And it really looked as if she would soon 
 have to go, for when they reached the south 
 field the crop was an uncommonly fine one. 
 Snow- White at once noticed how pleased dear 
 Father was, for he began to joke with Long- 
 Bengt, the tallest man in the parish, and say 
 he ought to grow a little more. The grass was 
 taller than he. 
 
 " Long-Bengt was at no loss for an answer. 
 He said that if the Pastor was going to keep 
 on working his land in that way, he would soon 
 get no one to mow his grass. It was a misery
 
 44 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 to have to cut through such a wall. And the 
 two Vetter-lads backed him up and said they 
 would rather fight with all the West Goths in 
 Broby fair than mow grass like that another 
 year. 
 
 " Dear Father had to give as polite an answer 
 back again, and they all stood round in silence, 
 waiting for it. 
 
 " Ah, I think Snow- White will always re- 
 member Father as he stood there, so pleased and 
 friendly in the midst of his men, pretending 
 that he was wondering what he could answer 
 so that it might make the better impression 
 when it came. 
 
 " But look at that now ! They never heard 
 dear Father's answer, for something unexpected 
 happened and turned their thoughts in another 
 direction. 
 
 " Whatever could it be coming towards them 
 through the high grass ? What could it be, not 
 walking quietly, but reeling along, screaming 
 and talking to itself ? 
 
 " I am sure Snow- White had never seen any- 
 thing that moved her so deeply. 
 
 " Ah, to see a woman in such a dreadful state ! 
 Her clothes wet and muddy clung tightly round 
 her. Her hair had fallen loose from the comb 
 and hung in wisps down her back, and, most 
 terrible of all, there were bloodstains on both 
 hands and face. 
 
 " Long-Bengt and the Vetter-lads turned aside 
 and spat three times as though they had seen 
 an evil spirit. A very little more and dear 
 Father would have done the same.
 
 Snow- White 45 
 
 " But suddenly Snow- White seemed to recog- 
 nise the new-comer's face, and she hastened to 
 whisper to dear Father that it must be the lady 
 who kept house for Countess Borg. 
 
 " Father agreed, and went up to the lady and 
 asked her what had happened that she was 
 coming to him so early in the morning. But 
 she was so excited that she did not know him, 
 but only called out that she could bear it no 
 longer at the Countess's, and was on her way 
 to get help at the Parsonage. 
 
 " They took her home with them, and after 
 a time she grew calm enough to tell them what 
 had happened. 
 
 " The Countess had worried and plagued 
 her until she could bear it no longer, and had 
 run away from Borg at two o'clock in the 
 morning. 
 
 " She had been so confused that she never 
 thought where she was going until she was 
 out of the house. Then she had decided to 
 go to the Parsonage as she had heard they had 
 kind hearts there. But the poor thing had 
 taken a short cut over the meadows, could not 
 get over the footbridge, but had tumbled into 
 the brook, hit her head and destroyed her 
 clothes. This had so upset her that she could 
 not find the right road, but had wandered to 
 and fro the whole morning over the pastures 
 and cornfields. 
 
 " Now she asked so nicely for leave to stay 
 at the Parsonage until she had dried her clothes, 
 washed away the bloodstains, and thought a 
 little what she should do next.
 
 46 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 " Of course she could do that. Ah, I wonder 
 who would have refused any human being in 
 such distress ! 
 
 " But how Snow- White and her Father 
 blamed the Countess. Beautiful and gay as 
 she was and yet to be so cruel to those beneath 
 her ! And it wasn't the first time either that 
 they had heard a like tale of her. I can tell 
 you it was a good thing the Countess didn't 
 meet Snow- White that day. She would have 
 asked her if she wasn't ashamed of herself. 
 This lady now what shall I call her ? " 
 
 " You can call her Mamsell Vabitz," sug- 
 gested her foster-sister. 
 
 " Well, this Mamsell Vabitz was such an 
 excellent person and so well spoken of, that 
 the Countess ought to have known better 
 than to frighten her out of her wits. 
 
 " But that very same day Snow- White hit 
 upon a plan which gave her great pleasure. 
 She would ask Mamsell Vabitz to stay and 
 keep house at the Parsonage whilst Grand- 
 mother and she went away for their change. 
 If only that could be arranged, she would be 
 sure that everything would be just as com- 
 fortable as if she were at home herself." 
 
 " But, dear heart," said her foster-sister, 
 " was that your idea ? I mean was it Snow- 
 White's?" 
 
 " Yes, indeed it was hers and no one else's, 
 and she was so glad that she had had such a 
 happy thought. She asked Mamsell at once if 
 she would stay, and she answered without 
 hesitation that she would be glad to do her that
 
 Snow- White 47 
 
 service. But, she added, that she would like 
 to say if she could get a post in a gentleman's 
 house, she should leave at once. She was a 
 poor woman and had to put her own interests 
 first. 
 
 " But it was not so easy to persuade dear 
 Father. Was he to have Mamsell going about 
 the house for six whole weeks and be compelled 
 to sit at meals with her ? 
 
 " You have no idea what a business it was 
 before Snow- White and her Grandmother were 
 successful. Father and Mamsell Vabitz couldn't 
 get on at all well together. He liked to joke 
 and tease everybody, but Mamsell was strait- 
 laced and serious and very mindful of her 
 dignity. 
 
 " Snow- White generally managed to keep 
 them apart until meal-times, but no sooner 
 had Father sat down to table than he chose 
 for his subject whatever he thought would 
 tease Mamsell. Best of all he liked the talk to 
 be about love and marriage. 
 
 " ' He was so glad,' he said, * to have Mam- 
 sell in his house to give him good advice. He 
 had long been thinking of marrying again. 
 What would she say to Countess Borg ? ' 
 
 " But no sooner were the words said than 
 Mamsell grew stiff with horror. She laid 
 down her knife and fork on her plate and stared 
 at him." 
 
 Anna Brogren began to smile. " How he 
 would enjoy that," she said. 
 
 " Yes, dear Father was plainly in his element 
 then. It was not every day he found anyone
 
 48 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 who did not understand his jokes. Now he 
 declared he really could not comprehend why 
 Mamsell should look so astonished. Did she 
 think that the Countess would not have him ? 
 But he knew for a fact that the Countess 
 thought him a handsome man. She always 
 came to church every Sunday when she was 
 at Borg, and she had told him with her own 
 lips that she never went to hear an ugly 
 preacher. 
 
 " It was really too funny ! When Snow- 
 White's Father said this two bright red spots 
 appeared on Mamsell's cheeks. She had evi- 
 dently been silent as long as she possibly could, 
 but now she had to give vent to her anger. 
 ' And this man is supposed to be a Pastor and 
 servant of God/ she burst out. 
 
 " And Mamsell had such a coarse, rough 
 voice. She was a little woman with a small, 
 refined face and snow-white hair, although she 
 was not more than forty years old. She looked 
 as gentle as a dove, and for that very reason 
 it was more of a shock when she began to 
 speak. 
 
 " Now when Mamsell had in her deep, 
 hollow voice pronounced judgment on dear 
 Father, he began to laugh aloud. But not 
 another word did she utter all dinner-time." 
 
 Anna Brogren began to laugh too, but Snow- 
 White only sighed before she went on. 
 
 " I expect I need scarcely say how Snow- White 
 begged and prayed her Father and how really 
 distressed she was when her entreaties were of 
 no avail. She lived in continual anxiety lest
 
 Snow- White 49 
 
 Mamsell should run away from them as she 
 had run away from Borg." 
 
 " I rather fancy she stayed," said her foster- 
 sister. 
 
 " Yes, she stayed, and how glad Snow- White 
 was. Mamsell even began to help in the 
 housekeeping. She would not stay with them 
 and do nothing, it wasn't likely she should. 
 
 " Of course such a cook as Mamsell was not 
 content with ordinary middle-class fare, but 
 she made French dishes as if for a nobleman's 
 table. And dear Father, who for several years 
 had been tutor in good families, lived his young 
 days over again, when he tasted made dishes, 
 fine pastry, and spicy sauces. It was plain he 
 would not go short whilst Snow- White was 
 away. It was reassuring, too, to notice that 
 his jokes with Mamsell lost a good deal of their 
 sharpness when she had served a really good 
 meal. 
 
 " And it was pleasant, too, that he and 
 Mamsell both took such an interest in gar- 
 dening. He might talk as long as he liked of the 
 botanists, Linne and Hammarby, and of the 
 Botanical Gardens in Upsala, without Mamsell's 
 ever being tired of listening to him. 
 
 " Ah, no doubt it was the gardening that 
 reconciled Father to the thought of keeping 
 Mamsell. Otherwise he would never have done 
 it. Snow- White had that to thank for her ease 
 of mind when she started. She almost dared to 
 hope that Mamsell Vabitz and dear Father 
 would put up with one another till she came 
 home again.
 
 5O Liliecrona's Home 
 
 " But she was not really happy all the time 
 she was away, for her thoughts were always 
 at home, wondering if Father was teasing poor 
 Mamsell. 
 
 ' When Snow- White had been away two 
 weeks, dear Father wrote her such a gay letter, 
 full of fun from beginning to end, telling how he 
 and Mamsell were getting on. One evening he 
 had had a visit from Lieutenant Christian Berg 
 and Herr Julius, and they had all played cards 
 and sung Bellman. Next day Mamsell would 
 not speak to him, and all the week he had had 
 nothing for dinner but black puddings and 
 bacon or carrots and salted herrings. But the 
 day before he wrote, he had had grilled salmon 
 and game pie, so that he knew he had been 
 taken into favour again. 
 
 " Snow- White could not help laughing at 
 dear Father's nonsense, although that letter 
 did not altogether reassure her. But the next 
 was better, when he told how Long-Bengt had 
 given out that he was now going to marry 
 Merry Maia, his old sweetheart, and that 
 Mamsell Vabitz had been the means of per- 
 suading him. She had kept on telling him 
 how wrong it was to keep a woman waiting 
 fourteen years, and at last her words had taken 
 effect. 
 
 " It was plain that dear Father was very 
 pleased. He did not write ' Vabitza ' in this 
 letter as he usually did, but Mamsell Vabitz 
 a sure sign that he recognised what an excellent 
 person he had to do with. After that Snow- 
 White got no more letters from dear Father,
 
 Snow- White 5 1 
 
 but only short cards to say that he was too 
 busy to have much time for writing. Not one 
 word did he say of Mamsell, which must mean 
 that he had got used to her and thought no 
 more about her than about the other ser- 
 vants. 
 
 " But Snow- White still felt a little uneasy, 
 and I cannot describe how glad she was when 
 she got into the carriage to drive home. She 
 had written in good time to tell him when 
 to expect them, and in the same letter had 
 praised him for putting up with Vabitz. But 
 now he need not have any more strangers in 
 his home, for Snow- White would never leave 
 him again." 
 
 " Did she really write that ? " asked her 
 foster-sister ; " she must be amused now to 
 remember it." 
 
 " There is a good deal that is amusing in 
 this story," said the Pastor's daughter. " It 
 is almost laughable to think how pleased Snow- 
 White was as she drove along the road, so happy 
 indeed, that all she met brightened up at the 
 very sight of her. At least it was so at the 
 beginning of her journey, but when she came 
 nearer home, where people, even at a distance, 
 recognised the carriage and its occupants, she 
 thought that everyone they met was thinking 
 of something sad enough to make their faces 
 drawn and wrinkled. 
 
 " I tell you Snow- White grew quite puzzled. 
 When she came to the last inns where she knew 
 the innkeepers, she asked after dear Father, 
 and they told her he was as active as when she
 
 52 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 went away. Yet she could hear by their tone 
 that they knew something they would not tell. 
 Neither would she ask. It was indeed rather 
 sad if Mamsell had run away at last, but Snow- 
 White was not going to spoil the joy of her 
 home-coming by thinking about her." 
 
 " That is ridiculous beyond words," said her 
 foster-sister, with a laugh, "if it were not so 
 sad." 
 
 " At the last stage Long-Bengt came to meet 
 them with their own horses. And there was 
 no doubt about it, he was strange, too. As a 
 rule words had to be literally dragged from 
 him, but now they came in an endless stream. 
 And Snow- White noticed, too, that he talked 
 about everything else, but not a word of her 
 Father and Vabitz. And she dared not ask. 
 If anything was wrong she would, no doubt, 
 hear it from dear Father himself." 
 
 " And so she knew nothing before she got 
 home ? " exclaimed her foster-sister. 
 
 " No, she knew nothing nothing at all. 
 And I will tell you what was the saddest part 
 of it all for her, and that was that dear Father 
 thought he had acted with such wonderful 
 prudence, and expected her to be pleased at 
 what he had done. And no wonder he did. 
 For had she not praised Mamsell and said he 
 ought to be happy to have such an excellent 
 person in his house ? It was her own words 
 perhaps that had led him to think that Mam- 
 sell 
 
 " You certainly can never understand how 
 pleased Father was, as he stood upon his
 
 Snow- White 5 3 
 
 threshold to welcome her, and how pleased 
 Vabitz was as she stood beside him. Dear 
 Father's only wish was to tell the great 
 
 news. 
 
 
 But he did not need to tell anything, foi 
 she saw it herself, knew it indeed before she 
 got out of the carriage. And now I must tell 
 you how upset she was. She grew so angry 
 that she lost all self-control. Never in her life 
 had she felt like that before. She did not 
 indeed fly at them with cuffs and blows, much 
 as she would have liked to do it. 
 
 " Her tongue, however, she could not control, 
 and she said the very worst she could think of. 
 Never would she call Vabitz ' Mother ' was her 
 first speech, and the second that she was no 
 fitting wife for her Father, she who was but the 
 daughter of a poor German trumpeter, whilst 
 her Father could have married the best-born 
 lady in the land. And, she continued, they knew 
 well enough themselves that they had acted 
 wrongly or they would never have married on 
 the sly. 
 
 " But now Grandmother came, seized her 
 wrist, and told her sternly to come with her to 
 her room. She did not refuse to obey, but first 
 she turned to Vabitz once more and told her 
 she had curried favour with Father by her good 
 food, and that he had only married her for her 
 fine dishes. 
 
 " And when that was said her Grandmother 
 got her away." 
 
 " That was a pity," said her foster-sister ; 
 " I think they might have let her go on,"
 
 54 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 " No, her Grandmother carried her off, and 
 once in her room she burst into tears. That, 
 too, was something new, for never before had 
 she cried like that. On and on she wept for 
 hours before she stopped, and all the time she 
 felt as if something which hitherto had lain 
 asleep within her heart had now awakened and 
 overmastered her. 
 
 " She felt convinced that some old dragon 
 or horrible wild beast had its home in her soul. 
 Alas, alas, in her fear of this she almost forgot 
 the other grief, for indeed it was a sore trouble 
 to know there was anything so unruly and 
 dangerous in her very self ! It was true she 
 could not exactly help its being there, only she 
 must never again let it be seen." 
 
 " Oh, dear heart," said her foster-sister 
 tenderly, " had she never been angry before in 
 her life ? " 
 
 " At last she slept and forgot it all, and did 
 not wake until next day as the sun was rising 
 from behind the mountain and shining in her 
 face. She lay, feeling miserable, and wondering 
 what she should do. But she did not need to 
 wonder long, for in a few minutes the house- 
 maid came with a message from her mistress ; 
 she was to get up and go to her loom. 
 
 " It still wanted some minutes to four, and 
 she had not been in the habit of getting up so 
 early. And, although she had worked, it had 
 only been at her own wish, not at another's 
 bidding. She was getting angry again when 
 she remembered the wild creature inside and 
 feared lest it should lift its head again.
 
 Snow- White 55 
 
 " When she had been working at her loom a 
 couple of hours, she could better understand 
 how everything had happened. Vabitz had 
 not tried to curry favour with dear Father, 
 but had kept on telling him the truth, until 
 he had plainly seen that she would be an in- 
 valuable help for him and his daughter. And 
 when dear Father had seen that his daughter 
 had not appreciated his cleverness, he was, no 
 doubt, quite angry with her. 
 
 " At seven o'clock Snow- White was called into 
 her Father's room to be warned and scolded, 
 as indeed was to be expected. But he was so 
 terribly tactless, when he reproved her, that 
 she nearly grew angry again. Still she did 
 not, but begged both Vabitz and dear Father 
 very sweetly for forgiveness as she kissed 
 their hands. She could see how he rejoiced 
 to have it settled and peace in his home once 
 more." 
 
 " And things like that can happen whilst 
 someone else, but a few miles away, knows 
 nothing of them," exclaimed her foster-sister, 
 with a tearful voice. " If only I had been 
 there." 
 
 " It was a good thing there was nobody there 
 to take Snow- White's part," said the Pastor's 
 daughter. " She was glad she had been ready 
 to make peace, for when she saw them together 
 she understood that she was not the most 
 unhappy. 
 
 " She was young and might get married and 
 have a home of her own, but it was another 
 matter with dear Father. He would never
 
 56 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 be rid of Vabitz, but must keep her to his life's 
 end. 
 
 " That indeed was a life in mid- winter with 
 never a summer sun. It was not she but dear 
 Father who was to be pitied. 
 
 " But, friendly as she wished to be, she could 
 not help being vexed with him, when he came 
 in a little while to her bedroom window, and 
 asked if she would not come out for a walk. 
 She replied that she could not possibly, for 
 dear Mother had ordered so many yards to be 
 woven before breakfast. 
 
 " In the first moment of irritation dear 
 Father insisted she should come in any case, 
 but then he bethought himself that it would 
 scarcely do to set dear Mother's orders on one 
 side the very first day. So dear Father went 
 away from the window and left Snow- White 
 at her loom. This she had never expected, and 
 her heart was ready to burst. She knew she 
 had lost dear Father." 
 
 Her voice shook with sobs and she stopped 
 short. Anna Brogren, too, did not speak, but 
 wept aloud. 
 
 And Little-Maid would have cried, too, if 
 she had not been so afraid that the others 
 would hear her. 
 
 The next night was not a scrap better for 
 Little-Maid than the last. Anna Brogren had 
 not gone as she intended, but had put off her 
 journey home, and no sooner had the Pastor 
 and his wife said good night than down she 
 crept from the guest-chamber into the kitchen 
 bedroom to talk to her foster-sister.
 
 Snow- White 57 
 
 This time they did not trouble about waiting 
 until Little-Maid was asleep. Anna said at 
 once that she had only stayed to hear the end 
 of the pretty tale that Maia Lisa had begun the 
 night before. And she begged her to go on at 
 once so that they might finish it, for she could 
 not possibly stay over the next day. 
 
 And so the Pastor's daughter began again. 
 
 " If I remember right," said she, " Snow- White 
 had not been at home more than a week before 
 Sexton Moreus with his wife Ulla came on a 
 visit. I cannot tell how pleased she was when 
 they came. Everything was going smoothly 
 between dear Mother and her, it is true, but 
 how she had to work ! She sat all day long 
 weaving her diaper patterns until at night she 
 went to bed with an aching back. It was a 
 mercy when a visitor came to give her a moment's 
 leisure. 
 
 " Ah, dear, dear ! Snow- White thought to 
 herself that she would certainly never get 
 dear Mother's love of work, nor would she ever 
 get such quick and clever fingers. Mother 
 could weave a beautiful damask with all the 
 animals out of the Ark worked into the border. 
 Snow- White saw plainly enough that Mother 
 looked upon her as a bungler, but she thought 
 she surely must see, too, that she tried her best 
 to please her. 
 
 " Ulla Moreus knew dear Mother from the 
 time when she was housekeeper at Borg and 
 understood her well. Besides, she had lately 
 been with her mother-in-law to help at Borg 
 with the autumn baking, so she had plenty
 
 58 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 to tell about the Countess. Snow-White 
 noticed that dear Mother enjoyed hearing of 
 all the mad things her ladyship had been doing 
 lately. 
 
 " But to tell the truth, I think no one was 
 so pleased at the visit as dear Father. Snow- 
 White sat and watched how he threw off the 
 great dignity he had assumed ever since his 
 marriage, and became his old self once more. 
 And she said to herself, ' I cannot think how 
 dear Father has held out lately. I have not 
 known him since we went to the south field to 
 see the hay-crop.' 
 
 " Snow-White knew so well that it was on her 
 account that dear Father no longer dared to 
 laugh or joke. He was filled with remorse 
 that he had brought her up so badly. For he 
 thought that she would never have broken out 
 as she did against him and dear Mother if he 
 had not spoilt her. But Father had made up 
 his mind now that she should be kept in check, 
 and had it so upon his conscience that he never 
 dared be anything but stern and serious when 
 she was in the room. 
 
 " Only a few months ago her Father had 
 thought she was everything she should be, 
 but now she was good for nothing. He would 
 certainly never be himself again until she was 
 a changed character. 
 
 " But when Sexton Moreus came, Father 
 forgot his heavy burden and was just as of old. 
 She could not help thinking that dear Father 
 must love her very dearly. What restraint 
 he laid upon himself every day for her sake.
 
 Snow- White 59 
 
 She was surely not so grateful to him as she 
 ought to be ! 
 
 " Dear Mother wanted to see to supper herself 
 to show Ulla Moreus that they had never had 
 such food in Lovdala as now. She knew that 
 Ulla was the cleverest cook in the parish and 
 continually went to prepare wedding and 
 funeral feasts, so that it was worth while 
 to make a show for her. And whilst dear 
 Mother stood over the kitchen stove Ulla 
 proposed that Snow-White should go down 
 with her to Grandmother's for a little. 
 
 " In Grandmother's room Ulla undid a 
 parcel that she had brought with her to amuse 
 them. It was such a handsome present that 
 she had got from her ladyship the Countess. 
 How they laughed as Ulla told how high she 
 stood in the Countess's favour and what 
 beautiful presents she got from her. Once she 
 gave Ulla a lapdog which could only be fed on 
 cream. That indeed was a generous gift to a 
 poor Sexton's wife who by no means always 
 had a cow to milk. 
 
 " I fancy Ulla would have been almost sorry 
 if the Countess had ever given her anything 
 that was any good. How gay she was as she 
 unpacked the last present. 
 
 " ' Look at that now/ she said ; ' see how 
 well provided I shall be when I drive off 
 to peasant houses to get the wedding-feast 
 ready.' 
 
 " The Countess thought, no doubt, that she 
 had robbed herself when she gave Ulla her 
 riding-dress the English one that she had
 
 60 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 worn herself the last few years, with a black 
 cloth habit, a tight-fitting red coat, and a small 
 top-hat. It was of beautiful stuff and cer- 
 tainly not worn out, but quite ridiculous all 
 the same. It was of such a length that Ulla 
 could not take a step in it, and it was ludicrous 
 beyond words to see her in the red jacket. Ulla 
 wanted Snow- White to try it on too, and when 
 she did both Ulla and Grandmother Beata were 
 quite delighted. ' There now,' said Ulla, ' what 
 a pity the grand present didn't come to you ; 
 it fits as though it were made for you.' 
 
 " Ulla put her in front of the looking-glass, 
 puffed out her hair a little and put on the 
 hat. 
 
 " ' Look at her,' she said to Grandmother. 
 ' Isn't she like a little noble Countess ? Have 
 you ever seen her look so sweet ? ' 
 
 " Ulla wouldn't hear of her taking off the 
 riding-dress until dear Father and Sexton 
 Moreus had seen her in it. 
 
 " I must just say one thing. Snow- White 
 never ought to have dressed up. She entered 
 into it so heartily and at once thought she was 
 someone else. 
 
 " Grandmother and Ulla bent double with 
 laughter when she began to walk and talk 
 like her ladyship the Countess. And Ulla 
 again repeated that she would never forgive 
 her if her husband did not see her, and insisted 
 that they should go back to the house. 
 
 " Snow- White thought to herself, ' Perhaps 
 dear Father may not like me to dress up when 
 he is so strict with me. Before I might do it
 
 Snow- White 61 
 
 as often as I liked, but everything is different 
 now.' 
 
 " But as Ulla was with her she took heart 
 and encouraged herself by thinking, ' It will 
 never do to let yourself be quite cowed. Dear 
 Father is himself again to-day and he cannot 
 find any fault with your putting on theCountess's 
 dress/ 
 
 " Another thought too gave her a little 
 comfort. She believed dear Mother would not 
 at all object to their having a little joke about 
 her ladyship. 
 
 " When they were out on the stairway Ulla 
 Moreus had a fresh idea. She took Snow- White 
 away to the stable and then persuaded Long- 
 Bengt to saddle Blackie. Blackie was small and 
 stumpy, not much like the high riding-horses 
 in Borg, nor was the saddle with its great stuffed 
 seat and high wooden back very similar to the 
 one her ladyship used. 
 
 " When Blackie was ready with Snow- White 
 on his back, Ulla ran on and called into both 
 kitchen and drawing-room that Countess Marta 
 was riding down the Avenue. 
 
 " Oh, oh, what a commotion there was ! Dear 
 Mother tore off her apron so that her cuff came 
 with it, and rushed out to the porch ; dear 
 Father sprang out, too, with his wig all on one 
 side and stood by her side on the top step ; Ulla 
 and Sexton Moreus took their place behind 
 them, whilst the housemaid stood curtseying 
 on the lowest step. 
 
 " Snow- White had her riding- whip, of course, 
 and touched up Blackie, but it was impossible
 
 62 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 to rouse him out of his jog-trot. Not that that 
 troubled her, for she never dreamt but that 
 her Father and Mother would recognise her 
 at once. 
 
 " But it was too ridiculous ! 
 
 " Mother had so constantly seen the red 
 riding-habit that the Countess had worn for 
 several years that she noticed nothing else. 
 And no sooner had Snow- White saluted with 
 her riding- whip and called out ' Bonjour, Mon- 
 sieur le Pasteur,' just as the Countess used to 
 do, than dear Mother rushed down the steps 
 and curtseyed to the very ground itself. How 
 can I find the right words to tell it all ? Snow- 
 White certainly knew that dear Mother was a 
 little short-sighted and that it was quite late 
 and dusky, but she could not possibly believe 
 that she was not recognised. She thought 
 ' Dear Mother likes me to make fun of the 
 Countess/ She knew, of course, how angry 
 dear Mother was with her old mistress, and it 
 never occurred to Snow- White that she would 
 stand and curtsey to her. And Mother's face 
 was aglow with joy, brighter than ever in her 
 life before. 
 
 " Snow- White jumped from the saddle with- 
 out help, just like the Countess, and threw the 
 reins to Long-Bengt. Then she turned to dear 
 Mother with outstretched hand and said, ' Eh 
 bien, Raklitz, how are you getting on in your 
 new position ? ' And just think of it ! No 
 sooner had Snow- White said this than dear 
 Mother bent over her hand and kissed it. 
 
 " Then at last Snow-White understood that
 
 Snow- White 63 
 
 her Mother's eyes had deceived her and that 
 she thought the Countess had come to call on 
 her. And in her consternation Snow-White 
 cried out, ' Dear Mother, it is only I ! ' 
 
 " Mother drew herself up and flung away 
 her hand. She just gave one look at her step- 
 daughter, then turned and rushed up the steps 
 and into the kitchen. 
 
 " Dear Father, Sexton Moreus, and Ulla came 
 round Snow-White now and laughed at her dis- 
 guise. Alack, alack ! She had to keep on acting 
 a little while, because her Father looked so 
 amused. But her heart was like lead within 
 her at the remembrance of that one look. She 
 thought to herself, ' Now I have made an 
 enemy of dear Mother. She does not trouble 
 about downright abuse, but she will never forgive 
 anyone who makes a fool of her/ ' 
 
 The Pastor's daughter paused a moment 
 as if to hear what the other thought of her 
 tale. 
 
 "It is really something to laugh at," said 
 Anna Brogren, " but I cannot do it. It fills my 
 heart with such anxiety. You had better go 
 on at once so that I may hear what misery 
 you I mean Snow-White brought upon her- 
 self." 
 
 And so the Pastor's daughter began again. 
 
 f< I really must tell you of something funny 
 that happened one day in the end of September. 
 You will see, dear foster-sister, that it was 
 nothing very important, but I think it gave 
 Snow- White a little courage. Afterwards, when- 
 ever she remembered the incident, she used to
 
 64 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 say to herself, ' After all, it is a good thing there 
 is someone belonging to the house who is not 
 afraid of Mother/ Otherwise she would have 
 had to confess that everyone stood a little in 
 dread of her, her Father not excepted. She 
 could not in the least deny that Mother was 
 very careful of him and so attentive that he 
 scarcely dared to move. But ah, how frightened 
 dear Father was to say 'no,' when dear Mother 
 wanted anything. That was evident every day, 
 but never so clearly as when Mother insisted on 
 making brandy. Everybody said that dear 
 Father would never have allowed it if she had 
 not begged and prayed, for he had always been 
 against it. In former times, whenever anyone 
 suggested it, he had answered sharply that in 
 a Pastor's house grain should be used for 
 baking bread and boiling porridge, not for that 
 fatal drink that only brought people to ruin. 
 And he said exactly the same to dear Mother. 
 She was not to be put off, however, and answered 
 that if he wanted to put an end to all dram- 
 drinking in the house she was quite agreed, but 
 if anyway there must be brandy to offer to 
 strangers, and for the servants, then she thought 
 they might just as well make it themselves'. It 
 would cost only half as much, Mother said, and 
 she worried and worried until he let her have 
 her way. 
 
 " For the first distilling Mother borrowed a 
 brandy vat with lid and pipe from a big house 
 near, and as soon as it came she set to work and 
 attended to it with the greatest care. What 
 between soaking and fermentation she left the
 
 Snow- White 65 
 
 brewing-maid no peace and was in the brew- 
 house all through the process. Certainly no 
 one could reproach Mother with sparing her- 
 self. Dear Father, on the contrary, shut himself 
 up the whole time and did not once honour 
 Mother by peeping in at the brewhouse door 
 and asking for a taste of the brew. She knew 
 well enough that he still disapproved, and she 
 knew that if only one of the workpeople took 
 a little too much to drink, dear Father would 
 seize the opportunity to forbid the whole per- 
 formance. So dear Mother was most particular 
 that none of her helpers should get too many 
 sips, and such was her authority that she 
 managed to keep good order all the time. 
 
 " Only one little misfortune happened. 
 
 " Dear Mother had quite finished the clearing 
 and had not much else left to do, except to 
 draw off the brandy in casks and bottles. She 
 had also to dispose of the lees, but they were still 
 warm, so she put them in a bucket outside the 
 brewhouse door to cool. No sooner had they 
 been put down than Long-Bengt went by. The 
 bucket pulled and pulled him, but Mother, 
 standing in the doorway, called out : ' Why, 
 friend Bengt, you are surely not thinking of 
 drinking that ! It is not fit for human beings, 
 only distiller's wash as it is/ 
 
 " Long-Bengt put on an innocent look and 
 went his way. He was going to the dairy, of 
 course, and there was surely no harm in passing 
 the brewhouse door. Sure enough he went to 
 the dairy to fetch the hay fork that the dairy- 
 maid had lent him and started off to take it back
 
 66 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 with him to the stable. But when Long-Bengt 
 opened the gate to the backyard, he came upon 
 Big Billy standing with his nose between the 
 palings sniffing away in the direction of the 
 brewhouse. It was a fine day, so all the goats 
 were out. But the others were on a wood pile, 
 and Big Billy stood alone by the gate. 
 
 " No one can understand how Long-Bengt 
 could be so clumsy, but he opened the gate so 
 wide that Big Billy managed to push out past 
 him. And he never even troubled to drive the 
 creature back again as he ought to have done, 
 but only just looked to see that the orchard 
 gates were shut, to keep Big Billy from dear 
 Father's apple trees and dear Mother's cabbage 
 beds. Very likely he thought it wouldn't 
 matter if he did get on to the lawn and crop 
 a mouthful of grass. But you must know that 
 Big Billy did not so much as glance at the good 
 grass, but trotted away towards the brewhouse. 
 He came tripping along so daintily and quietly 
 that Mother never heard a sound, although the 
 brewhouse door stood ajar. 
 
 " The creature had always had such refined 
 manners. When he was thirsty, he neither 
 lapped the water like a dog nor sucked it up 
 like a horse, but drank so quietly that no one 
 knew what he was about. Many a milk-can 
 had Big Billy emptied behind the dairymaid's 
 back, and now he managed to sup up all the 
 brandy lees in peace and quiet without Mother 
 having the least idea of what was happening. 
 But when it was all gone, Big Billy began to 
 bleat, as he always did, for he thought mischief
 
 Snow- White 67 
 
 lost all its pleasure unless he was there to see 
 how vexed and angry everyone was at his mis- 
 deeds. And in a moment Mother was on the 
 threshold and saw the empty bucket. 
 
 " She seized the long, black stove-rake which 
 always stood in the corner by the door and 
 aimed a blow at Big Billy. But after all Billy's 
 days of petting, he could not possibly believe 
 that dear Mother was angry in good earnest, 
 so up he got on his two hind legs and danced 
 about before her. Now Big Billy was both 
 strong and old and it was not always a joke to 
 tackle him. Dear Mother struck out with the 
 rake, and those who knew his temper felt that 
 no good would come of it. So they all came, 
 Father, Snow-White, and the maids running 
 out of the house to help Mother. But Big Billy 
 was doing her no harm, only hopping to and fro, 
 so that Father told the others not to stop his game 
 and at the same time he called out to Mother to 
 hurry into the brewhouse and shut the door 
 before play had become earnest. 
 
 " But Mother paid no heed to the warning 
 and at last managed to give Big Billy such a 
 hard knock that he felt it. Down he came on all 
 fours, not that that made it any better, for now 
 he rushed into the brewhouse and used his horns 
 to crash down every bottle and jug he could 
 reach. And no sooner had dear Mother got in 
 after him than he was out again. 
 
 " Now Big Billy knew that he had given 
 Mother enough to do with picking up what he 
 had knocked down to keep her out of the way 
 for a little, whilst he went on with his joke. So
 
 68 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 he stood a few seconds outside the brewhouse 
 door looking round, and then began to climb 
 quietly up the hill to the big house. 
 
 " Big Billy generally had something grave 
 and dignified about him, a gift by no means to 
 be despised, for who could possibly suspect such 
 a stately creature of even a thought of mis- 
 chief ? And never had he looked so splendid as 
 now when up he went stepping slowly along, 
 lifting each foot high and throwing his head back 
 with his nose up in the air, as if to show off his 
 great beard and long horns. Yet that it was 
 not quite all in earnest was plain enough by his 
 dancing eye and the sideward twist of his hind- 
 quarters. 
 
 " Father thought that Big Billy was off to 
 the other goats behind the house, so he called 
 out to Snow- White and the other womenkind 
 to get out of the great goat's way and not irri- 
 tate him. But if that had been Big Billy's 
 intention, he changed his mind as he passed the 
 porch and saw that the door had been left wide 
 open when they had all rushed out to drive him 
 away. And just as he was walking along with 
 his most dignified step he gave one spring up 
 the steps and ran into the house. 
 
 " The maids rushed after in a body to drive 
 him out. Then he took refuge on the garret 
 steps and when they followed him up to the 
 garret, out he jumped through the window 
 without troubling to look first how far it was 
 from the ground. 
 
 " But his usual luck did not forsake him, 
 and so it happened that he hit upon the very
 
 Snow-White 69 
 
 window which was exactly above the porch 
 roof. 
 
 " It was a little, steep roof with a narrow 
 ridge upon which Big Billy alighted. He could 
 not move an inch to right or left without falling 
 and it did not seem possible either for him to 
 turn back into the garret again. 
 
 " ' Get in with you, Big Billy,' cried dear 
 Father as he shook his cane at him. But Big 
 Billy did not budge. The maids had come out 
 again and were in despair over what might 
 happen to him. But Big Billy looked quite 
 pleased. As he turned his head and winked 
 at them, it was plain how greatly he enjoyed 
 their terror. 
 
 " Mother had picked up her bottles and was 
 coming, rake in hand, to chastise Big Billy. 
 When he caught sight of her he winked more 
 wickedly than before ; evidently he hadn't the 
 slightest respect for dear Mother. 
 
 " Once more she struck at him with the rake 
 and as she did it he gathered his feet together, 
 flew through the air like an arrow and came 
 down on the ground just in front of her. 
 
 " And no sooner was he there than he got 
 on his hind legs and gave Mother a tap that 
 knocked her down. Then away rushed Big 
 Billy to the back garden, bounded over the 
 gate and spent the next few hours dancing to 
 his wives. 
 
 " But no one troubled about him just then. 
 They had all rushed forward to help Mother, 
 and the first to reach her was Snow-White. 
 But Mother pushed her violently away. * Don't
 
 70 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 touch me,' she snapped. ' I know your feelings 
 towards me, and can see this just pleases you. 
 Laugh away whilst you can. I know something 
 that will make you cry/ 
 
 " And it was true enough that Snow-White 
 had not looked very much upset, for she had 
 laughed so much at the great goat that she could 
 not be serious again in a moment. But Mother's 
 words made her sad enough all day long. 
 
 " And my dear foster-sister will easily under- 
 stand that it wasn't this that gave Snow-White 
 fresh courage, but a little dream that she 
 dreamt the night after. For then Snow-White 
 saw a great goat standing again on the porch 
 roof, but it was no longer a real goat, but all the 
 gaiety and good temper that had lived in this 
 home of old, which had crept out on the roof 
 and was up there openly defying Mother. The 
 creature could talk too, and told Mother that 
 she would never be able to work her will and 
 turn this house into a hard, cold prison. There 
 was too much of its former spirit still left in it 
 to fight against her. 
 
 " And when Snow- White awoke she thought 
 it had all been true and felt no longer quite so 
 lonely in her struggle with dear Mother." 
 
 " You may be very sure I shall take some 
 slices of bread for Big Billy the next time I go 
 to see Snow-White," said Anna Brogren as the 
 Pastor's daughter paused for a moment. 
 
 " I am afraid the kind thought comes too 
 late," said her foster-sister. " For Snow-White 
 tells me in her last letter that dear Mother has 
 sent him to the butcher."
 
 Snow- White 7 1 
 
 " Look at that now," said Anna Brogren 
 thoughtfully, " look at that now ! And Snow- 
 White's father let him be killed without a 
 word ! I tell you, I begin to think Snow- 
 White's stepmother will do her a mischief." 
 
 But the Pastor's daughter broke in with a 
 hasty : " Oh, it is not the stepmother who hurts 
 Snow- White. On the contrary, she says Snow- 
 White's one thought is to do her some ill." 
 
 " She might know better." 
 
 " Everything goes wrong for Snow- White. 
 I will just tell you one thing more to show you 
 how unfortunate she is." 
 
 " I should like to hear the whole of the 
 tale," said Anna Brogren, " but indeed I can 
 see well enough that it is Snow- White who is in 
 danger and not her stepmother." 
 
 " There is no need to tell my dear foster- 
 sister that it was Snow- White's Father who had 
 planted all the Parsonage grounds. They had 
 to thank him for the gooseberries, the currants, 
 the rare strawberries, the great kitchen garden 
 and the little rose-bed to the west of the house. 
 But the very best in dear Father's orchard was, 
 after all, the apple trees. He had planted and 
 grafted them with his own hands, and I think 
 you might go a long way before you would see 
 the like of the fruit they bore. Whenever 
 Snow-White ate any of Father's apples she 
 always thought they tasted as though they 
 were made of nothing but sunshine and summer 
 warmth. Never had Snow-White seen such 
 beautiful apples in the orchard as this summer. 
 Such pearmains, astrachans, golden pippins,
 
 72 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 Tom Putts, codlins, reinettes and winter apples ! 
 Perhaps the trees were not so heavily laden as 
 sometimes, but their fruit was all the finer for 
 it. Not a single apple was worm-eaten, they 
 were all alike big and beautiful. How trans- 
 parent the skin of the Tom Putts, how golden 
 the pippins, whilst every pearmain blushed a 
 dark crimson and not an astrachan but had 
 a bright rosy cheek. The apples were really 
 such a splendid crop that they were the talk of 
 the whole country-side. They were so big and 
 fine that they brightened up the road and 
 passers-by used to come down to the house and 
 ask for leave to go into the orchard and look 
 at them. 
 
 " But I must just say that nice and beautiful 
 as apples are, they bring a great deal of worry. 
 It is useless to deny that in former years a great 
 quantity of the Parsonage apples had been 
 stolen, but this year scarcely one was lost in this 
 way, for Mother never wearied in her watch 
 over them. Ever since the end of August, 
 when the apples began to ripen, she had been 
 in the orchard every evening on guard. 
 
 " But Mother did more than this. She pro- 
 tected the apples from the home people too, 
 for she had padlocks put on the orchard gates 
 and always kept the keys in her pocket. If 
 she found a specially big shiny nonesuch, she 
 might perhaps gather it for dear Father, but 
 neither Grandmother Beata nor Snow-White 
 ever got so much as a bite. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, in other years the apples may 
 not have been so fine, but they had given more
 
 Snow- White 73 
 
 pleasure, for there had been no one about the 
 house who had not eaten their fill of them. And 
 not only that, but everyone who came to the 
 Parsonage got a taste, and most carried home 
 a little basketful as well. Even when the 
 gathering-time came, not an apple was eaten, 
 for Mother saw to the work herself. She put on 
 gloves and plucked each apple slowly and care- 
 fully, so that they should not be pinched or 
 bruised. 
 
 " Snow- White did indeed think it was a little 
 hard not to have the apples whilst they still 
 had their fresh summer flavour, but she con- 
 soled herself with the thought of how nice it 
 would be to have them to eat all the autumn 
 and winter. For no doubt Mother knew how 
 to keep them so that they would not decay. But 
 she soon learnt that dear Mother had other plans. 
 Not for one moment had she thought of letting 
 the Parsonage people sit and eat her apples. 
 
 " Dear Father, of course, would have liked 
 to keep his apples in his house as he had always 
 done, but dear Mother reckoned they could 
 make money by them. She meant to sell all the 
 beautiful fruit at Broby fair. And, of course, 
 Mother had her way. She drove to the fair with 
 two carts full of apples, and a man and maid to 
 help her sell them. 
 
 " When she came to the market-place she 
 put up her stall, opened her boxes and barrels 
 and laid out the apples. Mother was not afraid 
 of any kind of work and stood before her stall 
 with great gloves on her hands and a thick 
 shawl knotted round her waist to sell her fruit
 
 74 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 herself. She was not going to trust this work 
 to anyone else. And she might well be proud 
 of such wares as she had to offer. 
 
 " Her stall shone so with red, white, green 
 and yellow that people crowded round just for 
 the pleasure of looking at it. Now at the big 
 Broby fair there were always fruit growers from 
 the Sormland mansions and from the country 
 estates in Naset, but not one of them had such 
 fine fruit as Mother. 
 
 " As soon as she was ready to sell, everyone 
 hurried up and asked what she wanted for her 
 apples. But Mother asked so much that they 
 were amazed and refused to buy. 
 
 " So she had to sit there with her treasure 
 and see how the market people bought instead 
 from her neighbours. But she would not yield, 
 nor lower her prices by a single farthing. She 
 asked just double the price of anyone else. No 
 doubt she thought she would sell them later on 
 when the strangers had got rid of all theirs. 
 
 "Perhaps, too, Mother reckoned on some- 
 thing else as well. She knew well enough how 
 much brandy was generally drunk at Broby 
 fair, and that after twelve o'clock there was 
 scarcely a sober man to be found, so maybe she 
 thought that by afternoon the peasant folk 
 wouldn't be so careful of their money. It 
 looked, too, as though Mother might be right. 
 The later it grew, the more people gathered 
 round her stall, at first, all the small boys and 
 girls at the fair with their fingers in their mouths 
 and such pathetic longing in their faces for the 
 apples they had no money to buy ; but after-
 
 Snow- White 7 5 
 
 wards grown-up people too stood hanging 
 about, as though they could not keep their 
 eyes off the fruit. From time to time one and 
 another came and asked the price, but Mother 
 stuck to her first answer and asked as much 
 as in the morning. She was not going to sell 
 for less, when everyone else's apples were all 
 gone ; her turn was coming now, no doubt ! 
 
 " Dear Mother saw the desire for apples in 
 every face, and thought with every passing 
 moment : ' It will soon be too much for them, 
 they only want someone to make a start.' 
 
 "But time went on and on, and even Mother 
 must have begun to think that she would have to 
 go home with all her apples unsold. So she deter- 
 mined to make a last effort and sent her maid 
 to look for Snow- White, who was away amongst 
 the stalls buying presents for all at home who 
 had not been able to get to the fair. 
 
 " When Snow- White came back to Mother 
 she ordered her to take her place for a time 
 ..and sell the apples. Mother had been standing 
 on the same spot all day long and her feet were 
 so frozen that she felt she must move about a 
 little. 
 
 " It was not with the best will in the world 
 that Snow- White took her place to sell at Broby 
 fair, but as she did not dare to say ' No ' to 
 Mother, she tied the shawl round her shoulders, 
 drew on Mother's gloves, and stood instead of 
 her before the stall. And with many a warning 
 to Snow- White not to lower the price for any- 
 one who wanted to drive a bargain, nor to eat 
 the apples herself, Mother went her way.
 
 7 6 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 " But if she thought people would buy from 
 her stepdaughter more readily than from her 
 she was mistaken. 
 
 " Snow- White just had to stand there in the 
 same way, guarding the apples without selling 
 a single one. Old and young still gathered in 
 a close ring round her, but no one offered to 
 buy. 
 
 " Then a couple of half-tipsy young peasants 
 came along with their sweethearts on their 
 arms and forced their way through the crowd. 
 They were excited and talking in loud voices 
 and rattling their money as though it burnt 
 their pockets. Snow- White was so frightened 
 of them that she would have liked to run away, 
 but she stuck to her post in the hope of at last 
 selling something. 
 
 " But they came up to her and the first of 
 them, without ever asking the price, straight- 
 way put his great fist over a heap of the best 
 apples. At the same time he glanced at Snow- 
 White and tried to look as sober and honest 
 as possible, whilst he asked, ' Where do these 
 apples come from ? ' Snow- White answered 
 that they were from her own home. 
 
 " ' Yes, I have been there many a time,' 
 said the young fellow, ' and I know you and 
 your Father ; a nice man the Pastor is too.' 
 
 " Snow- White gave a friendly answer, she 
 liked him for speaking well of dear Father. 
 
 " ' I know you and he are both kind folk,' 
 went on the farm man ; ' kind enough to let a 
 poor servant taste your apples without paying 
 for them.'
 
 Snow- White 77 
 
 " And before Snow- White knew what he was 
 about, he had snatched a great handful of the 
 beautiful apples and rushed off. And the 
 sweetheart on his arm took some too as she ran 
 after him and so did his friend and his friend's 
 sweetheart. 
 
 " But poor Snow- White had never dreamt of 
 such a thing and was in utter despair that they 
 had run off with so many apples and left no 
 money instead. She wanted to run after them 
 and get them back, but she did not dare, so she 
 sent the man and maidservant who were stand- 
 ing behind her to catch them up. As they went 
 she noticed the whole crowd moving close up 
 to the stall. ' Now they are coming to buy/ 
 she thought, and plucked up fresh courage. 
 
 " But not a bit of it ! They never thought 
 of such a thing, but ran up, ten at a time, and 
 took as many apples as they could, whilst they 
 cried out that she and her Father were far too 
 kind to ask poor folk to pay for a couple of 
 apples. And the little boys who had stood all 
 day with their eyes on the shining fruit, pulled 
 off their caps and filled them, whilst the little 
 girls, who knew what watering mouths meant, 
 rushed up and swept scores of apples into their 
 aprons. 
 
 " Snow- White threw herself over the stall 
 to protect it with her body. But what good 
 was that ? And she cried and entreated and 
 told them how miserable they made her, but 
 who paid any heed to her ? It was not only 
 the little boys and girls who snatched her 
 treasure, but grown-up folk as well. And how
 
 78 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 they laughed and joked and thought it was only 
 a little fair-day fun, as everyone who helped 
 himself called out to her that she and her 
 Father were far too kind to grudge them a 
 couple of apples. 
 
 " Snow- White struck out right and left and 
 screamed for help, but the apples were gone. 
 
 " The fair-folk cleared her stall before her 
 eyes, overturned her boxes and barrels, and took 
 all the fruit. There were plenty of wild good- 
 for-nothings at the fair who came to take their 
 part in the fun, which soon ended in fisticuffs 
 and blows, so that Snow- White had to leave her 
 wares to their fate and run away to escape being 
 trampled to death. 
 
 " Just then back came Mother and found her 
 stepdaughter robbed and weeping despairing 
 tears of mingled fear and anger. 
 
 " Dear Mother seized her by the arm and 
 shook her soundly. ' You wait till we get home 
 to-night,' said she, ' and I'll teach you to give 
 away my apples.' 
 
 " Indeed, it was no wonder that Mother was 
 vexed, still it was hard that she should think her 
 stepdaughter had done it on purpose. 
 
 " What a wretched home-going it was ! They 
 all sat in the carriage, Father, Mother, and Snow- 
 White, and at first Father tried to chat away as 
 usual. But Mother sat bolt upright in one corner 
 with tight-shut lips and would not utter a word, 
 whilst Snow- White did nothing but cry. Dear 
 Father couldn't take the loss of a few apples so 
 much to heart and he was amused at the folk 
 calling out that he was too kind to grudge them
 
 Snow- White 79 
 
 a couple of apples. He tried to keep up his 
 spirits by talking to all the other homegoers as 
 he passed them. He asked if they had got good 
 prices for their cows, what they had given for 
 their sheep, and if they had come across any of 
 his apples. 
 
 " But after a while he grew strangely silent. 
 He turned to Mother and sat for a long time 
 looking at her, then stared straight in front of 
 him, and his face grew all at once very old and 
 weary. 
 
 " A little later Snow- White noticed that dear 
 Father looked long and sadly at her, as though 
 he was trying to read the thoughts of her in- 
 most heart. 
 
 " Then he said, ' You grow very like your 
 Mother,' and taking her hand in both of his 
 he sat gently stroking it. It seemed as though 
 her Father wanted to comfort and help her. 
 Snow- White thought : ' Dear Father under- 
 stands that I did not do it on purpose. He 
 knows I am not like that.' 
 
 " Father held her hand all the way home, 
 but his head fell lower and lower, and when the 
 carriage stopped at the door he sank down 
 altogether. Nor did he stir when Mother 
 and Snow- White got up. They thought he was 
 dead. 
 
 " But it was not quite so bad as that, although 
 it very nearly was." 
 
 The Pastor's daughter stopped a moment. 
 Her voice shook, and she needed a little time 
 to steady it before" she could go on. 
 
 " Now you know how I am placed," she said.
 
 80 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 " Mother can do what she will to me and I can- 
 not complain to dear Father for fear he should 
 have another stroke as he had when he drove 
 home from the fair, thinking of the quarrel 
 between us." 
 
 " But can he not see it himself ? ''' 
 " Maybe he sees, but he can do nothing. 
 Father is supposed to be quite well again, but 
 I know how weak he is. He has no longer a 
 will of his own. Never again can dear Father 
 be what he was that fine morning when he and 
 I went together to look at the field of
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE PASTOR OF SVARTSJO 
 
 on New Year's Eve the Pastor 
 popped his head in at the kitchen door. 
 What had they done with little Stormwind ? 
 He hadn't seen her out with her toboggan on the 
 hill. Surely they didn't mean to keep her sitting 
 indoors from morning to night like the other 
 womenfolk. 
 
 It was Little-Maid he was asking for. On 
 her very, first day in Lovdala he had taken her 
 with him to the tool-house and looked out a 
 sleigh for her. And every morning since he 
 had come to remind her to go out and coast. 
 
 At the same time he used to take the oppor- 
 tunity of teasing the housekeeper and maids a 
 little by asking them if they really preferred 
 sitting shut up in the kitchen all day. 
 
 But this time he quickly got his answer that 
 the child had meant to go out as usual, but her 
 mother had just come to see her. So Little- 
 Maid had taken her to the dairy to look at the 
 cows. 
 
 The Pastor stepped back and shut the door. 
 He stood still for a minute or two thinking, then 
 turned his steps to the dairy. 
 
 The kitchen-folk followed him with their 
 
 G 81
 
 8a Liliecrona's Home 
 
 eyes as he went. He looked old and weak after 
 his illness in the autumn, but it was an under- 
 stood thing that he must speak to everyone 
 who came to the house, so it was some time 
 before he could get as far as Marit of Koltorp. 
 To begin with, Long-Bengt called out to him 
 that a man had just brought a sick horse to ask 
 if the Pastor knew of any remedy. And as soon 
 as he had attended to the horse, up came two 
 peasants who had to divide an inheritance and 
 wanted him to say how much each ought to 
 have, so that they need not take the matter 
 into court. And it took a good hour before 
 he could settle the matter sufficiently to offer 
 them a drink to seal their agreement. 
 
 Meanwhile Little-Maid was sitting in a dark 
 corner of the dairy talking to her mother, each 
 of them on a milking-stool, and Little-Lad on 
 his sister's lap. He had been so pleased to see 
 her again that there was no getting him away. 
 
 Mother and her little son had stayed on a 
 few days at Nugord, but now they were going 
 home and had taken the longer road past 
 Lovdala to see how Little-Maid was getting on. 
 
 Little-Maid had surely never before felt such 
 happiness as when she saw her mother step into 
 the kitchen, coming as she did in the very nick 
 of time to help her in her great trouble. 
 
 When they got down to the dairy Mother 
 had, first of all, to say what she thought of the 
 new tale of Snow- White that Little-Maid had 
 been lying listening to for the last two nights. 
 Was it possible that the Pastor's daughter had 
 been talking of herself ?
 
 I 
 
 The Pastor of Svartsjo 8 3 
 
 When Little-Maid had told it all as well as 
 she could, her Mother was silent for a long 
 time, but at last she said : "I expect they did 
 not think you were wise enough to understand 
 what they said. But as you were, you must 
 just show you are wise enough too, not to re- 
 peat it." 
 
 But that was not all. Little-Maid had some- 
 thing else upon her mind as well. Yesterday 
 morning the Pastor's wife had come to her and 
 asked so gently and kindly if she was happy, 
 or if she felt homesick. No, indeed, of course 
 she was happy and so comfortable. And she 
 did so love the hens. 
 
 " Oh, yes," laughed the Pastor's wife ; " and 
 is there no one else you love besides the hens ? " 
 
 Indeed, yes ; Little-Maid loved the Pastor's 
 daughter as well. 
 
 And the Pastor's wife had laughed again. 
 Why was it that she loved Mamsell Maia 
 Lisa ? 
 
 " Because she talked so beautifully." 
 
 " Well now," said the Pastor's wife. " Can 
 you understand how she knows all she tells 
 you ? " 
 
 " I expect she finds it in the books that she 
 sits reading at night," was Little-Maid's answer. 
 
 " Oh, she sits reading at night, does she ? ' 
 asked the Pastor's wife in the same gentle tone. 
 " Then I suppose she has a candle." 
 
 " She reads by some light, I know," answered 
 Little-Maid. 
 
 Now that night no sooner had the Pastor's 
 daughter and Little-Maid eot into bed than
 
 84 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 the Pastor's wife came in as usual and took away 
 their candle. 
 
 But when the house was quiet, the Pastor's 
 daughter got up and fetched the tallow candle 
 which she had hidden in the great grandfather 
 clock, crept out into the kitchen, blew up the 
 embers in the grate to get a light and sat down 
 to read. She had a brother away in Upsala who 
 used to write verses and send them to her, for 
 he knew she was desperately fond of such 
 things. And to-night she was learning them by 
 heart. She must have been reading something 
 very beautiful for she did not hear the door 
 open, and never lifted her head until the Pastor's 
 wife stood over her and stretched out her hand 
 to take the light from the candlestick. 
 
 " I suppose you want to bring us all to the 
 poorhouse," said her stepmother, " sitting here 
 burning a light all night. Where did you get 
 it from ? " 
 
 "It is not dear Mother's candle," said the 
 Pastor's daughter. 
 
 " Whoever it belongs to, I'll see to it that you 
 don't sit here bringing us to poverty," said her 
 stepmother. "I'll teach you to waste the 
 candles, I can tell you." 
 
 With this she went away, but soon came back 
 with a great piece of linen over her arm. 
 
 " Since you like sitting up at night," she said, 
 " you can at any rate make yourself useful. See 
 to it that this sheet is seamed up by to-morrow 
 morning." 
 
 And then she did go, but her stepdaughter 
 had to sit up all night over her sewing.
 
 The Pastor of Svartsjo 85 
 
 And someone else had no sleep either, and 
 that was Little-Maid, who lay there reproaching 
 herself for having ever said that the Pastor's 
 daughter used to sit up reading at night. 
 
 And this was why she had been so glad to see 
 her mother. 
 
 She could picture no greater misfortune than 
 that Mamsell Maia Lisa should get to know 
 what she had done, and she begged her mother 
 to take her home. She could not stay at the 
 Parsonage. 
 
 Mother reminded her how comfortable she 
 was, but Little-Maid did not mind being cold 
 and hungry if only she could get away before the 
 Pastor's daughter was angry with her. But 
 Mother insisted she should stay. " Raklitza 
 shan't go on domineering like this long," she 
 said. " I will speak to the Pastor myself. I 
 have known him many a long day and I think 
 he'll believe me." 
 
 At that moment Little-Lad pointed to the 
 door. " There's someone standing there," he 
 said. 
 
 Little-Maid and her mother turned round at 
 once. There stood the Pastor in the shadow 
 a few paces from them, leaning motionless 
 against the wall. They were so terrified that 
 they did not venture to get up and say good 
 morning. When had he come and how much 
 had he heard ? 
 
 " Marit, come along with your milking- 
 stool," he said in a weak voice. 
 
 She hurried up with the little stool, and he 
 sank down on it.
 
 86 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 " Don't fetch anyone," said the Pastor ; 
 " it is only a giddy turn ; you know I have 
 had them all my life." 
 
 They stood helpless before him. Marit of 
 Koltorp was astounded to see how old he had 
 grown. She had not noticed it so much at her 
 brother's Christmas dinner, but now she saw 
 how thin and shrunken he looked. 
 
 " It isn't dangerous," he went on ; " but it 
 comes pretty often nowadays. You see, Marit, 
 I am about done for." 
 
 Very soon after he got up. " Don't say any- 
 thing about it up at the house," he said, as he 
 went out of the dairy with bent head and falter- 
 ing steps.
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE MAGIC PANCAKE 
 
 TATE on New Year's Eve the Pastor's 
 L/ daughter came walking down the hill- 
 side to the brewhouse room where her Grand- 
 mother, Fru Beata Spaak, had lived for many 
 a long year. 
 
 She was leading Little-Maid by the hand, and 
 you could hear them coming, a long way off, 
 by the little shrill screams they uttered every 
 time they lost the path and stepped into the 
 snow-drift at the edge. It was foggy and pitch 
 dark, without the least glimmer from moon 
 or stars, and, but for the tiny glint of light 
 through Grandmother's shutters, they could 
 scarcely have groped their way to the brew- 
 house. 
 
 That Christmas there had been so dreadfully 
 many feasts both for rich and poor that the 
 days had been only too short for them all. 
 The Pastor and his wife had even been obliged 
 to go away on New Year's Eve, but Mamsell 
 Maia Lisa had not gone with them as she 
 usually did. 
 
 She had been ordered to stay at home and 
 see that the men and maids were property pro- 
 vided with the same quantity of fish and 
 
 87
 
 88 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 porridge as on Christmas Eve, just as if the old 
 housekeeper could not have managed it all 
 quite well. 
 
 But, in spite of this, the Pastor's daughter 
 was in very good spirits. A good part of the 
 afternoon she had been telling tales and singing 
 folk-songs to Little-Maid, who had surely never 
 enjoyed herself so much before. After supper, 
 Mamsell Maia Lisa had point-blank refused to 
 go to bed. She said, on New Year's Eve, she 
 would, at any rate, try to peep a little into the 
 futuie before she went to sleep. Wouldn't 
 Little-Maid like to help make a magic pan- 
 cake ? 
 
 Little-Maid had no idea what a magic pan- 
 cake was, but she said " yes " at once, and she 
 would have said the same even if Mamsell 
 Maia Lisa had invited her to help make a 
 viper soup. 
 
 " But you mustn't speak nor laugh all the 
 time we are making it," said the Pastor's 
 daughter, " and you mustn't spill on to the 
 floor the least drop of water or grain of flour or 
 salt." 
 
 " What is there hard in that ? " said Little- 
 Maid. She could keep from talking or laughing 
 as long as ever she wanted. 
 
 But then came the difficulty that there 
 must be three to help in the making, and the 
 Pastor's daughter had no idea where she was 
 to find the third. 
 
 They went into the kitchen and asked if 
 there was anyone there who would help make a 
 magic pancake, But the maids only threw
 
 The Magic Pancake 89 
 
 up their hands and declined when they heard 
 the question. 
 
 They had done enough of that in their day. 
 After they had eaten the magic pancake, they 
 had had neither sleep nor dreams, and they 
 were not going to be tempted to try such a dish 
 again ! 
 
 The Pastor's daughter stood and thought 
 and thought. 
 
 " We shall have to go down and ask Grand- 
 mother to help us," she said. 
 
 And this was why they were out on that dark 
 New Year's Eve picking their way amongst 
 the snow-drifts. But the Pastor's daughter 
 thought it only fitting that a New Year's 
 Eve should be pitchy dark, a true picture of 
 that future which no eye can pierce. 
 
 Grandmother lived in a garret room above 
 the brewhouse. How hard it was to climb 
 the stairway, built out, as it was, from the wall, 
 with its narrow steep steps so slippery now with 
 trampled snow that to tread on them was 
 almost to risk one's life. 
 
 But everyone had to get used to the dark at 
 Lovdala, for the Pastor's wife allowed no 
 lights except in the dairy and stable. However, 
 Grandmother must have heard them coming, 
 for when they were half-way up the stair she set 
 the door wide open. And she had her branched 
 candlestick alight on the table before the sofa 
 and the fire crackling in the stove. 
 
 Grandmother was tall and thin and looked 
 delicate. She was not at all like the Pastor's 
 daughter in face, nor could she very well be,
 
 go Liliecrona's Home 
 
 for she was only her Mother's stepmother. But 
 she was just as fond of her as if she had been her 
 own flesh and blood. It seemed as though Fru 
 Beata had some special art of her own, for 
 whatever it might be like in other places, in her 
 home it was always warm, bright, and tidy. 
 She had but the one room, where she lived and 
 slept ; but her bed, with its white curtains 
 hanging down from a gilded curtain-rod, was 
 an ornament in itself, and the same might be 
 said of her bright little copper pans and china 
 plates and dishes in the corner cupboard. 
 She was refined and graceful herself ; but her 
 hands were so tortured with gout, that her 
 fingers were twisted and stiff; so twisted, 
 indeed, that it was no easy matter to shake 
 hands with her, for it was almost impossible 
 to get a firm hold of them. 
 
 The Pastor's daughter told their errand, and 
 Grandmother, with a smile, promised her help. 
 There was someone she was just expecting, 
 and she would like to know if he was coming 
 next year. 
 
 It was best, of course, to stay in Grand- 
 mother's room and make the pancake there. 
 First they took down a dish out of the little 
 corner cupboard behind the stove, all three 
 holding on to the edge and putting it on the 
 little kitchen table. Then they must get a 
 wooden spoon, so all three went to the little 
 corner cupboard which served as Grandmother's 
 china pantry, all three held the spoon-handle, 
 and laid it on the dish. Next they poured in 
 three spoonfuls of water which all three fetched
 
 The Magic Pancake 91 
 
 from the great copper pitcher, and no one 
 spoke or laughed as they went about their 
 work. 
 
 That done, three spoonfuls of flour had to go 
 into the water. All three held the spoon as 
 they dipped it into the flour-tub, all three 
 lifted it up, and emptied the flour into the 
 water. No one left hold of the spoon, no one 
 spoke, no one laughed, and no one let the 
 least grain of flour drop to the ground. Then 
 they added three spoonfuls of salt, and again 
 not a word, nor a laugh, nor a single grain 
 spilt. 
 
 But will you believe that when they had got 
 as far as that Grandmother asked if it must 
 be put straightway into the frying-pan ! 
 
 The moment she asked the question, down 
 went the spoon, and the Pastor's daughter 
 threw herself on a chair and laughed and 
 laughed. Little-Maid kept her fingers on it 
 indeed, but was so overcome with the fun that 
 she had to fall on the floor and have her laugh 
 out there ! Grandmother's lips twitched a 
 little too ; perhaps the words wouldn't have 
 slipped out if she had not remembered of old 
 that there was no fun at all in making a dream 
 pancake, unless some such little misfortune 
 happened. And she liked to see the Pastor's 
 daughter forget all her troubles and have a 
 little laugh. 
 
 And when they had laughed their fill they 
 set about their work once more, for nothing 
 that they had prepared was of any more use, 
 and they had to begin again from the beginning.
 
 92 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 But that was not so easy when they were once 
 well overcome with laughter. 
 
 First they poured three spoonfuls of water 
 into the dish. They got no farther before 
 they burst out laughing again. The Pastor's 
 daughter was the worst. Little-Maid was not 
 nearly so bad as she. But for fully five minutes 
 more they were helpless with merriment. Then 
 the Pastor's daughter told the others that they 
 really must behave properly or the magic 
 pancake would not be ready till all hours of 
 the night. 
 
 " I fancy we shall manage," said Grand- 
 mother, " if only you can be serious yourself." 
 
 First they put in the water, then the flour 
 and then the salt, and stirred it all up into a 
 dough. All three held the spoon whilst they 
 stirred with never a word, never a laugh, nor 
 the least drop spilt on the floor. When they 
 had rolled it into a pancake they laid it in the 
 frying-pan. And it didn't look a bit tastier 
 than the mess of meal that fowls and pigs 
 get for their breakfast. It was really not so 
 good, for it was quite stiff and hard, and 
 glistening with all the salt they had put in. 
 
 They put it on the fire and let one side cook 
 and then turned it, all holding the spoon, all 
 helping to turn, and no one dropping it in the 
 cinders. At last it was ready and had to be 
 eaten. 
 
 The Pastor's daughter and Little-Maid were 
 by this time so eager that there was not the 
 least danger of their laughing. They were 
 too busy thinking that now they might perhaps
 
 The Magic Pancake 93 
 
 get a glimpse into the far future to be willing 
 to throw away such a great opportunity. 
 
 The dream pancake shone so with salt that 
 it needed some courage to taste it. But they 
 divided it into three portions, and then ate 
 them as best they could. Little-Maid ate up 
 her share, for she knew that was the proper 
 way, and she was very particular to carry out 
 all directions. Grandmother only tasted a 
 tiny, tiny bit, and it is not certain that she 
 swallowed it either. The Pastor's daughter 
 ate just one mouthful, for much as she wished 
 to know the future, she was really not able to 
 get down a single crumb more. The two girls 
 were both a little disappointed in the magic 
 pancake, but not a word did either of them say. 
 They only nodded good night to Grandmother 
 as she stood in the doorway silently lighting 
 them down the stair. 
 
 They tore at full speed over the path up the 
 garden, for the night no longer seemed so dark 
 and impenetrable as before, but rather as if it 
 was waiting to draw aside the veil, and show 
 them all its hidden secrets, but they dared not 
 stay to look. 
 
 The maids were already in bed when they 
 crept through the kitchen, but, of course, 
 they all asked them how they had got on, if they 
 had dreamed yet, and whom they had dreamt 
 about. But all to no purpose, for not a word 
 was to be got out of them. 
 
 Little-Maid's eyes closed as she lay down, and 
 she slept till next morning. When she did 
 awake she had a salt taste in her mouth, but
 
 94 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 try as she might she could not remember any 
 dream at all. Grandmother did not sleep at 
 all, but next day she sat quiet and silent as 
 thonigh still in a dream ; it seemed as if she 
 rea ly must have learnt something. Neither 
 was the Pastor's daughter able to get much 
 sleep, for she had been so parched with thirst, 
 and yet it would never have done to drink 
 anything before she fell asleep even a single 
 drop would have spoilt the whole charm. 
 When she awoke in the morning she could not 
 clearly recollect if she had dreamt anything. 
 
 But, later in the day, she chanced to go out 
 into the porch. And then she stopped short, 
 for she remembered that the night before in 
 her dream she had stood just on the same spot. 
 And as she stood there two strangers an old 
 man and a young had come walking up the 
 gravel path. And the old one had said that 
 he was Pastor Liliecrona, and had come with 
 his son to ask if she was thirsty and would like 
 a drink of water. And the young man had 
 stepped forward at once with a glass of clear 
 fresh water in his hand, and offered it to her. 
 
 But when the Pastor's daughter remembered 
 this she was so filled with amazement that she 
 trembled in every limb. For if one thing is 
 sure and certain it is that he who steps forward 
 and offers you water in your dream after the 
 magic pancake, he and he alone will in time to 
 come be your wedded husband.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE BRIDE'S DANCE 
 
 ON Twelfth-Night the Pastor and his wife 
 had been to church, and were now on 
 their way home after the service. She was half- 
 frozen in the sleigh after sitting still for two 
 hours in the cold church. How glad she was 
 to know that they did not need to drive all 
 the way home to Lovdala, but could break their 
 journey at Lobyn, where they were bidden 
 to the wedding feast of a well-to-do peasant. 
 They would be saved at least a quarter of their 
 cold drive. She could think of nothing else, 
 but how annoying it was that the Parsonage 
 lay away at the far end of the parish, all but 
 six whole miles from the church. The church 
 itself was well situated in the middle of the 
 parish, and was easily reached from every 
 direction. Not so the Parsonage, which was 
 a good twelve miles from all the houses lying 
 far away to the south of the parish. And how 
 difficult it was for the Pastor's wife to get to 
 church every Sunday, as was but fit and proper ! 
 It took a good four hours before she could get 
 home again ; and on Communion Sundays 
 maybe even five or six. And when she got 
 home she was quite certain to find the old 
 
 95
 
 g6 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 housekeeper had cooked the dinner too soon, 
 so that it had been waiting several hours and 
 everything was dried up and burnt. 
 
 The same thoughts filled her mind every time 
 she had to drive home from church cold and 
 hungry. If she could only manage by some 
 means or other to get a shorter way to church. 
 If it had only been a question of inducing the 
 parishioners to sell the old Parsonage and 
 build a new one nearer the church, that in 
 itself would have been difficult enough. But 
 it was a much more intricate matter than that. 
 
 Good gracious, how vexatious it was that 
 Svartsjo was, to begin with, only an offshoot 
 of the great Church of Bro ! From very early 
 times it had been ordained that the rural dean 
 of Bro should also be the rector of Svartsjo, 
 and get half the stipend, and, of course, no 
 change was possible in such an old-established 
 custom as that. Or else, it really did seem 
 as though her husband who had all the work 
 ought also to have all the stipend. But he 
 was only an assistant pastor, and had to be 
 content with the usual assistant stipend. And 
 the congregation was but a small and poor one, 
 so that if their Pastor had only had what they 
 gave him to live on, he would have been a 
 pauper indeed. 
 
 If the Pastor of Svartsjo happened to be a 
 little better off than other assistant ministers 
 it was only because he not only had a house 
 of his own, but enough land to give him his 
 living. If he had not had that, he would have 
 been in a poor case indeed. Of course she was
 
 The Bride's Dance 97 
 
 glad that he owned Lovdala ; indeed she 
 would be the last to grumble about it. It was a 
 fine property with a nice house and good land. 
 Its only fault was that it lay so far from the 
 church. Yet not quite the only fault ! There 
 was just one more. Those who lived on it 
 seemed to think themselves a little better 
 than other folk. She, who had seen really 
 great places, could only laugh at the very idea, 
 but in the parish it was reckoned quite a 
 distinction to live at Lovdala. Even the 
 Countess at Borg was not thought so much 
 of as the Pastor's family. 
 
 For her part she could never understand how 
 that had come about. 
 
 A hundred years ago the whole of Lovdala 
 had been nothing but a peasant-holding. It 
 may have been large and rich enough, for no 
 doubt they had splendid pasture lands on the 
 bed of the old lake. But all the same it had 
 been a peasant-holding and nothing more, 
 and she would almost have said it was nothing 
 more even now. Up there in Varmland, of 
 course, there was nobody who knew what a 
 real gentleman's country-seat looked like. 
 
 It was nothing remarkable that the rich 
 peasant's son should manage to study and pass 
 a contemptible priest's examination, and become 
 assistant pastor of Svartsjo. Neither was there 
 anything astounding in his marrying one of the 
 rural dean's daughters. After all, he had never got 
 any farther than Lovdala, but had stayed there 
 all his life. He was said to have been a clever 
 man, but that was hard to believe, or else he
 
 98 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 would surely have been made Pastor of some 
 larger place. 
 
 No doubt he had been very comfortably off, 
 for he had inherited Lovdala from his parents 
 and could live there. He had not needed to 
 go, hat in hand, to the peasants for their 
 tithes and offerings. He lived on his own 
 property, was quite independent, and as good 
 as any one of them. And that, no doubt, had 
 been as much to their liking as to his. 
 
 During the lifetime of this first Lovdala 
 pastor there had been indeed no parsonage 
 belonging to the parish, but there was one now, 
 a small property adjoining Lovdala. 
 
 It seemed to her pure stupidity of the 
 peasants to build the Parsonage there. They 
 had not troubled the least that the Pastor had 
 so far to go to the church. They had had quite 
 another object in view, and that they had 
 achieved. The second Pastor had married the 
 first's daughter, and inherited and lived in 
 Lovdala. In this way he too had become a 
 well-to-do peasant-holder of independent means, 
 and not simply a poor assistant minister. And 
 he too had stayed all his life in Svartsjo. He 
 was said to have been a remarkable preacher, 
 but she did not believe that either. She 
 imagined that it was only because he had 
 married one of their own Pastor's daughters 
 and lived at Lovdala that the Svartsjo folk 
 insisted upon his great gifts of oratory. 
 
 The Pastor's wife raised her muff and covered 
 her face. The road went straight over the old 
 lake-bed, and the cold breeze always blowing
 
 The Bride's Dance 99 
 
 there nipped her ears. But her thoughts only 
 travelled the faster. 
 
 It was plainly enough only the fact that the 
 pastors of the parish must of necessity live at 
 Lovdala, which made it so impossible to get 
 a shorter road to church. Her husband was 
 now the third Pastor in succession who lived 
 there. He had acted in the same way as his 
 predecessors, married the Pastor's daughter 
 and inherited the estate. He had made his 
 home in Lovdala, but the Parsonage ground 
 was so close that he could quite well manage 
 that too, and with his two properties he was a 
 well-to-do man. This was such a good arrange- 
 ment that there was not a soul in the parish 
 but wished its continuance as long as Svartsjo 
 had a pastor and people. She could not deny 
 that it had been a capital thing for the other 
 Lovdala pastors, for she did not believe that 
 they had been fit for anything better than 
 to stay here all their lives. But it was a never- 
 ending pity that her husband had lost his 
 heart to both property and parish and was 
 still here. For she would wager her life that 
 he could have had the best living in the diocese 
 any day if he had chosen to take it. She knew 
 exactly why he liked Svartsjo so much. Since 
 the same family had been pastors of the parish 
 for so many years, and since both Pastors and 
 Pastors' wives had been so much beloved, they 
 had got into a position of great authority. 
 No one undertook anything at all without first 
 going to the Parsonage for advice, and that 
 was what he liked. Once she had mentioned
 
 ioo Liliecrona's Home 
 
 to him that he might have had a larger church. 
 Yes, he agreed, but then perhaps he would not 
 have had so much influence. Here he thought 
 he ruled over the whole parish. 
 
 It was, Indeed, no easy matter to change all 
 this. No doubt it was a capital thing for a 
 young minister to marry one of the daughters 
 of the Lovdala Pastor. He got a competence 
 at once, an easily worked parish, and, for the 
 rest, did not everyone say that to get a wife as 
 beautiful and capable as any of the daughters 
 of the Lovdala Parsonage was a fortune in 
 itself ? That might be true enough of those 
 who had lived there before her time, but as 
 far as Maia Lisa was concerned, it certainly 
 was not a fact. The Pastor's wife saw no beauty 
 in her long face, nor could she see that she was 
 fit for anything either. Of course she was 
 doing her best now to improve her, but she got 
 no help in that from anyone, scarcely even 
 from her Father, who ought to have been the 
 first to wish his daughter to grow into a sensible 
 creature with thoughts for something besides 
 play. All the same she meant to do her duty 
 by her. There were not many who would 
 venture to correct the heiress to Lovdala and 
 to the whole parish. 
 
 The air round them resounded with the tink- 
 ling of bells, for here in Lobyn there were four 
 cross-roads, and sleighs were coming from all 
 directions bringing guests to the wedding. 
 It was evidently going to be a grand affair. 
 What a mercy she had managed to prevent her 
 stepdaughter from coming with them ! It was
 
 The Bride's Dance 101 
 
 just in these old peasant-houses that they 
 made the most fuss of her. It was only to be 
 expected that she should grow idle and haughty, 
 and begin to think she could do whatever she 
 chose. Yes, indeed, she was the best judge 
 of what was good for her. But for the present 
 she was not going to say so, not even to herself. 
 Perhaps, however, she might be able to kill 
 two birds with one stone ; might get, maybe, 
 a shorter road to church and, at the same time, 
 teach her stepdaughter that she was no princess, 
 but only a poor, insignificant Pastor's daughter. 
 . . . There now, had she not known that she 
 would have to put up with all this ? She had 
 not crossed the threshold before everyone 
 began asking why the Pastor's daughter had 
 not come too. Before she had unbuttoned her 
 fur coat she had to explain, at least ten times, 
 how tiresome it was that Maia Lisa would not 
 leave her old Grandmother alone at home. 
 Most inquirers were satisfied with this answer, 
 but the givers of the wedding-feast wanted a 
 better reason than that. Old Biorn Hindriksson 
 and his wife had had to work away for many a 
 long year before they could persuade their 
 youngest granddaughter, who was to have 
 their house and land after them, to marry the 
 man they had chosen for her. And as a reward 
 for her consent they wanted now to give her 
 the finest wedding in their power. 
 
 Biorn Hindriksson was so old that he re- 
 membered Herr Olavus, the first Lovdala 
 Pastor, and his wife, Fru Katrina Hesselgren, 
 and he had never lost the respect he had for
 
 IO2 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 them. As long as there was still a descendant 
 of Herr Olavus in the parish she must come to 
 the marriage-feast if it were not to be shorn 
 of half its glory. He would not accept the 
 excuse that the Pastor's daughter could not 
 leave home on her Grandmother's account, 
 and asked at once if one of the maids could 
 not have given an eye to Fru Beata for that 
 day at least. Besides, she was not on her death- 
 bed ! 
 
 His tone of voice showed plainly enough that 
 he was really sorry, and not speaking just for 
 form's sake. Glad as he was to see the Pastor's 
 new wife, it could nevertheless not be denied 
 that she did not belong to the old Parsonage 
 family. 
 
 The Pastor's wife replied that she had been 
 of the same opinion as he, and said so too. But 
 there it was : the Pastor's daughter was so bound 
 up in the old lady that it was a sheer impossi- 
 bility to get her away if her Grandmother was 
 the least ailing. 
 
 Now the Pastor's wife had taken off her 
 wraps and knew in her own mind that she was 
 a fine-looking woman and well dressed too, so 
 that they might search the land for a more 
 dignified Pastor's wife. And yet these peasant- 
 folk seemed to have no eyes for her at all. 
 
 Biorn Hindriksson's wife wondered why Fru 
 Beata herself had not made her granddaughter 
 go. She must have known that not a wedding 
 had taken place in their time where one of the 
 old Pastor's family had not danced with the 
 bride.
 
 The Bride's Dance 103 
 
 The Pastor's wife drew herself up and 
 answered sharply that she had not known it 
 was a matter of such moment, or she herself 
 would have stayed at home instead. How- 
 ever, she would drive home, now at once, and 
 then Maia Lisa could come. 
 
 With that the Pastor's wife won the day. 
 The peasant hosts were terribly vexed that they 
 had offended her, and ended by begging and 
 praying her to stay. 
 
 But it was the same question and answer 
 over and over again when she went upstairs 
 to the large room where she had to go round 
 shaking hands with all the guests, who stood 
 leaning against the walls, waiting for the 
 marriage ceremony. She had been cold all 
 day, but she was soon warm enough now. 
 There was no end to their questions about 
 Maia Lisa until she took her place on the sofa. 
 The two most important peasants' wives sat 
 on either side of her, and they were silent as 
 wax figures. They knew, indeed, that it was no 
 fitting time to chatter when they were sitting 
 and waiting for anything so solemn as the 
 marriage service ! 
 
 She felt that her cheeks were flaming red 
 How they had all attacked her ! They had not 
 plagued the Pastor with their questions. Did 
 they think that he no longer had any voice 
 in the matter ? 
 
 Ulla Moreus, the sexton's wife, appeared in 
 the doorway and stepped forward to shake 
 hands with her. Of course there would be more 
 questions to answer now, for she was one.
 
 IO4 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 of Maia Lisa's best friends. However, she did 
 not seem to be thinking of Maia Lisa. She and 
 her Mother-in-law were there dressing the bride. 
 They had finished now, but they wondered 
 
 Indeed it would be such a help to them if 
 Fru Raklitz would kindly come to the garret 
 bedroom and see if the bride's dress was just 
 right. 
 
 The Pastor's wife was well aware that no one 
 in Varmland knew better how to dress a 
 peasant bride than Ulla Moreus and her Mother- 
 in-law. Still it was polite of them to wish to 
 hear her opinion. So she went with Ulla to the 
 bedroom where the bride stood ready, waiting 
 for the bridesmaids to come and fetch her. 
 They were thinking of nothing here but flowers 
 and finery. It was a real relief to answer ques- 
 tions as to whether the gold chain was hanging 
 as it should, whether they ought to put more 
 bead necklaces on the bride, or whether she 
 really admired the tall crown of cardboard that 
 Ulla Moreus had sat up all night to decorate 
 with red and green silk and gilt paper. They 
 had thought until the very last moment that 
 the old crown would have done again, but late 
 last evening Ulla had remembered that this was 
 the grandest wedding to be held this winter, and 
 then she had cut a new foundation and decor- 
 ated it. 
 
 The Pastor's wife praised it and everything 
 else as well. But old Mother Moreus still 
 looked troubled, and in a little while she con- 
 fided to the Pastor's wife what was worrying 
 her.
 
 The Bride's Dance 105 
 
 It was very nice that Sister 1 Raklitz was 
 pleased with the wedding-dress, but she felt 
 herself that everything was a failure if they 
 could not induce the bride to look a little 
 happier. There was not much pleasure in deck- 
 ing up anyone who looked after all as if she were 
 going to the gallows. 
 
 The bride turned sharply away from them, 
 muttering a few scarcely audible words. All 
 the fine things she wore were nothing to her if 
 Mamsell Maia Lisa was not coming to the 
 wedding ! Had she not promised thousands 
 of times that she would come and see her in 
 her wedding-dress ? 
 
 Then Ulla Moreus put in her word, speaking 
 in the bright, pleasant voice of one who likes 
 to take a matter in hand and settle it all happily. 
 No doubt Maia Lisa could leave her Grand- 
 mother for a little while. They would willingly 
 send for her. It wasn't after all a long drive. 
 
 And even the old Mother-in-law added a 
 persuasive word as well : Maia Lisa and Britta 
 were schoolfellows, and had been good friends 
 ever since. 
 
 The Pastor's wife answered in no very friendly 
 tone. " No doubt, dear Sister, I should think 
 there isn't a single peasant girl in the parish 
 who isn't a good friend of Maia Lisa." She 
 tossed her head, and left the room. No one 
 ventured to say anything more to her. Her face 
 was flaming again by now. They needn't 
 think she did not see that they had only coaxed 
 
 1 An ordinary title of friendly respect amongst Swedish 
 peasants.
 
 106 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 her up into the garret to talk about Maia 
 Lisa. 
 
 The ceremony was over, and everything had 
 gone well. The bride knew that the guests were 
 all sitting now, talking in whispers of how she 
 had looked. For her parents' and grand- 
 parents' sake she could have wished her face 
 had not been quite so tear-stained. If only 
 Mamsell Maia Lisa had come she would have 
 gone through it all with a bright face. The 
 Pastor's daughter had so often said how she 
 would like to see her as a bride ; perhaps it was 
 only to encourage her, but now she thought 
 that the one piece of brightness that she had 
 promised herself to-day had been snatched 
 from her. Whilst the service was going on she 
 had turned her head several times and glanced 
 towards the door, for, in spite of all, she had 
 been so sure Maia Lisa would come that she 
 could not help looking for her. How could 
 anyone be so hard-hearted and refuse her on 
 such a day, the only thing she asked ! Her 
 eyes filled with tears at the very thought. 
 
 When they had laid the great table, shaped 
 like a horseshoe, and the guests sat down to 
 eat, they began to be very merry and talkative 
 all round her. The others could eat, drink, 
 and joke, but she felt all the time the same sense 
 of oppression. She could not even think of food. 
 She sat crumbling a slice of bread, so that they 
 might think she was eating something. " If 
 only Mamsell Maia Lisa had come to-day," 
 she thought, " it would have been a different 
 matter. She would have made it easy for me."
 
 The Bride's Dance 107 
 
 She looked up at her bridegroom beside her with 
 some confusion, wondering if he had heard 
 anything, for it struck her that she had been 
 thinking aloud. And in a moment she really 
 did ; she noticed she was sitting there murmur- 
 ing : "Oh dear, dear, to think that Mamsell 
 Maia Lisa has never come to my wedding ! ' : 
 
 " What are you sitting there, saying to your- 
 self ? " asked the bridegroom. 
 
 She answered almost against her will, " Oh 
 dear, dear, to think that Mamsell Maia Lisa has 
 never come to my wedding ! " The bride- 
 groom remembered very well how he had had 
 to beg and pray before this rich peasant's 
 daughter had consented to take him. Already 
 people began to whisper that she had been 
 forced to it by her grandparents, and if his bride 
 was going to sit at the wedding-feast with such 
 a sad face, the report would soon spread far 
 and wide. He began to reprove her. It wasn't 
 fitting to take it so to heart. She could have 
 the Pastor's daughter another day. 
 
 The bride paid no heed to his words. She 
 sat crumbling her bread, and in a little she 
 sighed again : "Oh dear, dear, to think Mamsell 
 Maia Lisa should not see me as a bride ! " 
 
 Once more her husband tried to reason with 
 her " How foolish to make a fuss about such 
 a thing," he said. " What do you think Mam- 
 sell Maia Lisa troubles about you ? We all 
 know how much interest gentlefolk take in us 
 peasants ! " 
 
 But then the bride turned round sharply : 
 " You wouldn't say that if you knew what you
 
 io8 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 were talking about. You wouldn't be sitting 
 where you are if the Pastor's daughter had not 
 spoken well of you, and said that she believed 
 you would be good to me." 
 
 Now it was the bridegroom's turn to be 
 silent, so silent, indeed, that when the guests 
 sitting opposite wanted to speak to him, they 
 had to shout before he answered. 
 
 The other guests could not fail to notice it, 
 and they too grew silent, and did nothing but 
 look anxiously at bride and bridegroom. But 
 just when all were feeling most embarrassed, 
 the young peasant turned to his bride. " If that 
 is all you are troubled about," he said, " it can 
 soon be remedied. I think I am man enough 
 to manage to let Mamsell Maia Lisa see you as 
 a bride." 
 
 She looked at him in amazement and saw he 
 was in earnest. 
 
 " I will never forget that you cared enough 
 for me to help me in this," she answered. And 
 as she spoke her face brightened, and she 
 seemed a different creature. 
 
 The Pastor's daughter was sitting crying 
 before the stove in the kitchen bedroom at 
 Lovdala. The tears were pouring down her 
 cheeks. She simply could not keep them back, 
 although she tried hard to, for she did not want 
 the servants to think she was sitting there 
 crying only because she was left alone at home 
 whilst her dear father and stepmother were 
 away enjoying themselves.
 
 The Bride's Dance 109 
 
 For that wasn't why she was sad ; no, in- 
 deed; her trouble was that she had not been 
 able to keep her promise to Britta. How often 
 they two had spoken of this great wedding- 
 day ! It had never been possible to make Britta 
 quite happy about her bridegroom, but it had 
 always cheered her up when the Pastor's 
 daughter told her that she was looking forward 
 to seeing her in her wedding-dress. How could 
 she help but cry ? It was so hard to have had 
 to break her word to Britta. 
 
 But how strange it was ! She fancied she 
 could hear sleighbells, the tramp of horses' feet, 
 and unmistakable sounds of a violin. The 
 music grew plainer and plainer. Surely she 
 heard something, but where in the world could 
 it come from ? She got up and went to the 
 eastern window where she could see right down 
 the avenue. 
 
 When she had lit the stove an hour ago it 
 had been dark night outside, but now the wood 
 had burnt out it was dark in the room. And, 
 meanwhile, how light it had grown outside in 
 the clear, bright starlight. The snow on the 
 ground and the white frost on the trees were 
 doing their part too, so that when she reached 
 the window it seemed as though she were look- 
 ing into a brightly lighted room. 
 
 She saw quite plainly a bridal procession 
 coming out from the avenue, and on between 
 the old houses behind the Parsonage. In the 
 first sleigh sat the players with their fiddles 
 under their chins, fiddling away as fast as fingers 
 could go. In the next sat the bride and bride-
 
 no Liliecrona's Home 
 
 groom, and the bride had not even a shawl 
 over her head, but, instead, her crown shining 
 brightly in the white light of the snow. After 
 them came sleigh after sleigh filled with peasant 
 guests. She recognised Sexton Moreus' white 
 horse, the churchwarden's red sleigh, and 
 
 But as she looked she grew so dizzy that she 
 had to sit down on the chair by the window. 
 She could not make out what it was. Why 
 were the wedding-party from Lobyn driving 
 down here to the empty Parsonage ? Perhaps 
 she only saw such things because all day long 
 her thoughts had been busy with nothing but 
 this marriage feast. 
 
 She heard them stop before the steps, heard 
 the door open and people crowding into the hall. 
 But she sat on just as before. Not that she 
 was afraid, but alas ! how heart-breaking it 
 would be to go out to welcome them and find 
 no one there after all ! 
 
 Now they were in the drawing-room, and now 
 they opened the door into the room next the 
 kitchen. The players came first. Then Sexton 
 Moreus with Ulla on his arm. Next the bride 
 and bridegroom with two bridesmaids each 
 carrying a three-branched candlestick, and after 
 them a whole host of young folks, men and 
 maids. 
 
 When they had all come in, Jan Oster and 
 his friend stopped playing, and Sexton Moreus 
 stepped up to the Pastor's daughter and made 
 a little speech. Nothing would satisfy Britta of 
 Lobyn but that the Pastor's daughter should 
 see what a beautiful bride she was, and so she
 
 The Bride's Dance 1 1 1 
 
 and her husband had meant to drive over alone, 
 but then he and the others had thought that it 
 would not give her much pleasure to see the 
 bride unless she could see the bridal procession 
 as well, and so they had all come or, at any 
 rate, as many as were not too sleepy after the 
 wedding-dinner. 
 
 The Pastor's daughter was always badly 
 dressed since she had had a stepmother. But 
 both she and everyone else forgot all about that 
 in the joy that lit up her face at their coming. 
 
 It was true enough what report said of these 
 daughters of Lovdala Parsonage that they had 
 some magic power over people. No one could 
 really understand how she managed it, but 
 when she threw her arms round the bride and 
 shook hands with the bridegroom and all the 
 others, every one of them felt that the real 
 wedding joy had been wanting until that 
 moment. For the Pastor's daughter could 
 throw off her sadness, and be so gay that other 
 people too thought, " There is nothing so 
 beautiful as life ; it is untrue to say life is sad 
 and troublous, when it is nothing but unmixed 
 
 joy." 
 
 The Pastor's daughter only had to look at the 
 bride and praise her crown to open their eyes 
 too. They had not noticed before how pretty 
 she was in her wedding-dress. When she turned 
 to the bridegroom with a word of thanks for 
 his coming and congratulated him on his wife, 
 the same thing happened to him. He realised 
 that he had not only married into the largest 
 peasant-holding in Lobyn, but that he had
 
 ii2 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 also got the best peasant girl for his bride. No 
 one could hear what she said to Britta, but 
 Britta's face told plainly enough that it was 
 just what she needed to make her happy for all 
 the rest of the day. 
 
 They had brought refreshments which they 
 spread on the table, for they wanted her to 
 taste the wedding-feast. And it was evident 
 how delicious she thought it all was, but she 
 would not eat anything until after they had 
 gone again. She knew, of course, that they 
 could not stay long, the only marvel was that 
 they had managed to get away at all. 
 
 Ulla told her how they had watched their 
 opportunity, and crept away immediately after 
 the dinner. The old people had been sitting a 
 little drowsy, needing their after-dinner nap, 
 and had known nothing about it until the 
 young folk had got away. But they must 
 drive back as soon as the bride had danced one 
 turn with Mai a Lisa. 
 
 They went out into the drawing-room, and 
 took their places round the wall to watch the 
 dance. Fiddler Jan Oster tuned up a polka, 
 and off went the bride with the Pastor's daugh- 
 ter. But in the very first round, Maia Lisa 
 turned pale with anxiety. In her happiness she 
 had quite forgotten about the dance-money. 
 On the wedding-day everyone, old and young, 
 alike, had to dance with the bride, and every- 
 one who danced with her had to give her the 
 dance-money. But she, poor girl that she was, 
 did not possess a single farthing. 
 
 The bride had not been so forgetful of her
 
 The Bride's Dance 113 
 
 duty. Away on a table in the corner of the 
 drawing-room she had put a bottle of scent 
 and a bride's box of pastry, raisins and wedding 
 comfits to offer her after the dance. 
 
 The Pastor's daughter felt that never before 
 had fate treated her so badly. It would never 
 do to break the old custom, for everyone would 
 think that would bring bad luck. 
 
 Britta must have seen her anxiety, for in the 
 midst of the dance she whispered that Mamsell 
 Maia Lisa must just pretend to put something 
 in her hand. Of course she couldn't have any 
 dance-money ready when they had come upon 
 her so unexpectedly. 
 
 The Pastor's daughter owned a pair of gold 
 ear-rings and a gold brooch that had been her 
 Mother's before her. She would have liked to 
 give Britta one or other of them, but she did 
 not know if she dared. What would happen if 
 her stepmother chanced to hear of it ? It was 
 not unusual to dance more than one round with 
 the bride, but the Pastor's daughter danced two 
 or three, whilst she turned over in her mind what 
 she could do. Not that that quite expresses her 
 feelings, for she was in such terror that her 
 thoughts flew in the wildest confusion. 
 
 Whilst she was dancing as slowly as she could, 
 she thought of a silver spoon that had been 
 given to her at her christening. But she was 
 by no means certain that Raklitz would not go 
 to the bride's home the next day and ask for 
 it again if she gave away anything so valuable. 
 * The only thing I can do is to tell Britta she 
 will get her money another time," she said to
 
 H4 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 herself. But then something happened that 
 startled her, and off she went and finished 
 the round at a good pace. For someone had 
 watched her and slipped a coin into her fingers 
 as she was dancing past. When the dance came 
 to an end she had a whole bright silver thaler 
 to lay in Britta's hand. 
 
 The bride was so taken aback that she quite 
 forgot to offer the wedding comfits, and the 
 Pastor's daughter had to ask if she was not to 
 get any. Whilst she helped herself to scent, she 
 looked round to find out who it was that had 
 given her the thaler. She knew she had got it 
 just as she passed the stove. Then it must have 
 been the tall dark man standing between the 
 stove and the cupboard who had helped her. 
 
 She bent forward and took some pastry from 
 the box, and as she did so she whispered to the 
 bride that she thought she knew everybody in 
 the parish, but she could not quite recollect the 
 name of the man standing by the cupboard. 
 
 The bride answered under her breath that 
 that was not to be wondered at, for that was 
 a man from another parish. He was a smith 
 from the Henriksberg ironworks in Vastmarken, 
 and he had just come that day to buy some 
 hay from her Grandfather. She didn't really 
 know why he had come with them, for he 
 wasn't one of the wedding guests. He hadn't 
 even got on his best clothes. 
 
 And sure enough the stranger was dressed 
 in black sheepskin with a belt round his waist. 
 The Pastor's daughter wondered how she was 
 to thank him, but she had no chance then, for
 
 The Bride's Dance 115 
 
 the wedding-party were just coming up to say 
 good-bye. She thanked them for coming, 
 helped them on with their wraps, and waved 
 her hand to them from the porch. When she 
 came back to the drawing-room she was a little 
 astonished to find the tall stranger still standing 
 in the middle of the room. 
 
 But it soon occurred to her why he had stayed. 
 Of course he wanted to know when he was to get 
 back the thaler that he had lent. Who knows, 
 perhaps he has taken it from the money his 
 master gave him to pay for the hay ! 
 
 It seemed as though he would like to deny 
 having lent it, and when she persisted, he de- 
 clared it was nothing worth speaking about. 
 
 But she could not consent to take a whole 
 thaler from a stranger. She told him she would 
 ask her Father for it as soon as he came home, 
 and send it over the next morning, so that he 
 could pay for the hay. 
 
 A kindly smile crept over his face like a 
 gleam of sunshine. She must do as she liked in 
 the matter, but he had plenty of money to 
 manage, without the thaler. 
 
 She looked at him with a little wonder in her 
 glance. Indeed, she began to think he had not 
 stayed for the sake of the money. But why, 
 then? 
 
 He stroked a long lock of hair back from his 
 forehead, and looked past her to the other wall. 
 "Oh, I don't know/' he said; "perhaps there 
 was something else I wanted to talk about." 
 
 The Pastor's daughter with a little feeling of 
 impatience took a step towards the door.
 
 1 1 6 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 The man looked at her again with his kindly 
 smile. " I cannot understand how the others 
 had the heart to drive away," he said. 
 
 The Pastor's daughter flushed and went on 
 towards the door. 
 
 " They ought to have taken you with them 
 to the dance, and not have left you all alone 
 here." 
 
 There was such a kindly note in his voice that 
 she could not be angry. She turned towards 
 him and laughed. " Oh, it won't hurt me to be 
 left alone, for I am happy now. And you must 
 go as well. Contented as I am, no one need be 
 uneasy on my account."
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE FOX-PIT 
 
 ENG-BENGT was standing with his lantern 
 in his hand very early in the day looking 
 down into the fox-pit. Something was wrong 
 with it, for never in all his life had he seen a 
 pit look like that. 
 
 Now, if there was one thing in the world 
 that Long-Bengt knew he could do it was to 
 lay a good fox-trap. And the evening before 
 he had seen to it just as carefully as ever. He 
 had covered the mouth of the deep pit with 
 little birch branches, straw, and snow, and 
 given it such a deceptive roof that not even the 
 sharpest old vixen could tell it from ordinary 
 earth. And the duck that had to sit on the 
 top of the tall pole in the middle of the pit to 
 entice the fox that way had been fastened with 
 a strap over her wings, and fixed so firmly to 
 the post that he knew she could not get away. 
 The best duck in the poultry-yard she was, and 
 had the strongest voice too. He had heard 
 how she quacked when he had left her tied fast 
 to the pole ; her shrill piercing cries of distress 
 had resounded far and wide through the silence 
 of the winter's night. It was a great disgrace 
 for anyone to bait a fox-pit and tie the duck 
 
 117
 
 1 1 8 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 so insecurely that the fox could run off with 
 her, and one that Long-Bengt had never yet 
 incurred. A disgrace too, equally great, whether 
 the fox got her off to the forest or carried 
 her down to the bottom of the pit as he fell. 
 
 The dairymaid never liked giving up her 
 ducks. If any harm should come to one of 
 them, he knew she would taunt him with it 
 every evening that he wanted to set the trap. 
 
 Now, however, this mishap had come to 
 pass. When he shone the lantern before him 
 he saw that there was no duck on the post, 
 nothing but the ends of the strap hanging there. 
 He was so annoyed that he turned to go, scarcely 
 caring to see if the fox had fallen into the pit 
 or got clear away. Still it was just possible 
 that he might be a prisoner. He tried to throw 
 the light from the lantern on the ground at his 
 feet. There were holes in several places of the 
 pit-roof. If only he could understand how that 
 fox had managed to drag down so much straw. 
 
 But, turn the lantern as he might, he could 
 not possibly see down to the floor of the pit, 
 so he began to look for footsteps on the snow. 
 If there had been two foxes he could better 
 understand why the roof was so broken up, 
 and then, too, it would not be quite such a 
 disgrace to have lost the duck. 
 
 He found the foot-marks in the snow, held 
 the lantern close to them, and bent lower and 
 lower. At last he got down on his knees, took 
 the candle out of the lantern, and threw its 
 light to the ground. 
 
 When he got up, his legs trembled so beneath
 
 The Fox-pit 119 
 
 him that he was glad nobody was there to see. 
 He could scarcely get over the ground fast 
 enough to fetch a rope from the stable. When 
 he came back with it, he made the lantern fast 
 to one end, and let it down the pit. Now he 
 could see to the very bottom, and in a moment 
 a broad grin passed over his face. His eyes 
 grew smaller and smaller and brighter and 
 brighter, and his white teeth glistened in the 
 candle-light. Yet he seemed in no hurry, but 
 stood leaning over the pit chuckling to himself. 
 
 A little later Long-Bengt came up to the big 
 house. He did not go along the kitchen path, 
 but tramped heavily up to the front door and 
 felt for the locks and bolts to let himself in. 
 It was barely five o'clock, and no one was up but 
 the old housekeeper. She heard the fumbling 
 at the door and, quite startled at the noise, 
 came to open it. 
 
 " But why in the world are you here, Long- 
 Bengt ? Whatever possesses you to come in 
 the front way ? " 
 
 Long-Bengt brushed her aside without vouch- 
 safing a word of reply. He went straight to the 
 bedroom where the Pastor and his wife lay 
 in their first sleep, and knocked at the door. 
 
 " What is it ? What has happened ? " 
 And the Pastor sat up in bed. 
 
 " It is Long-Bengt, Pastor. I wanted to tell 
 you the duck disappeared from the pit last 
 night." 
 
 " That's a bad job, of course, Bengt, but still 
 you needn't come in the middle of the night 
 and -"
 
 I2O Liliecrona's Home 
 
 " The duck and the fox are both down in the 
 
 pit.- 
 
 ' You are a duffer, Bengt. You know I came 
 home late from the wedding, and have only 
 just this minute gone to sleep." 
 
 But after a respectful pause Long-Bengt 
 went on. ' There was a wolf on the fox's 
 track, and he's fallen into the pit as well." 
 
 Quick as a flash came the Pastor's answer : 
 " Tell them in the kitchen to come and light 
 up here so that I can get up ! " 
 
 But Long-Bengt kept his ground as though 
 he were deaf. 
 
 " And there was another wolf following the 
 first, and he's in the pit as well." Not a word 
 more, but straight to the door and out. 
 
 When the day had really dawned all the 
 Parsonage people had gathered round the fox- 
 pit, the Pastor and his wife, the Pastor's 
 daughter, the housekeeper, the five maids, the 
 old crofter-woman and Little-Maid. Besides 
 these there were Long-Bengt and his Mother, 
 Old Bengta and his wife, Merry Maia, the two 
 Vetter-lads, Player Jons and Old Backman, 
 a soldier who was doing a little work on the 
 Lovdala land. They were all silent, and all 
 leant forward to look down into the pit for a 
 minute or two, and then drew back again. 
 
 Little-Maid was standing a little apart, for 
 there was no room for her close to the edge of 
 the pit. The Pastor caught sight of her and 
 beckoned to her to come and look as well as 
 the others. 
 
 A minute before she would have liked to
 
 The Fox-pit 121 
 
 push forward, but now she could not take a 
 step. A shudder went through her, she simply 
 dared not look at the wolves. She had never 
 seen any before, although she had often heard 
 them bark in the forest round Koltorp, and she 
 knew that wolves were the most horrible 
 things in creation, worse even than great 
 serpents. 
 
 The Pastor was gayer this morning than she 
 had ever seen him before. He took a good grip 
 of her sheep-skin collar. 
 
 " Now I have got you fast, Nora Stormwind, 
 so that you can't fall. You must look down 
 into the pit, even if you are but a child, so that 
 you can tell the young folks when you are an 
 old woman how, in one night, we caught two 
 wolves and a fox in the Lovdala pit ! " 
 
 So there she stood at the edge and looked 
 down at last. The pit was square and lined 
 with wood like the well, although, of course, 
 much bigger. She looked about for great 
 monsters with gaping jaws that could swallow 
 a little girl like her in one bite. But she could 
 not catch sight of them, so she turned round and 
 looked at the Pastor. 
 
 " Look into the corners ! " he said. Once 
 again she bent forward. It was pretty dark 
 down there, but now she began to make out 
 something. There were four animals in the 
 pit, one in each corner. All four were per- 
 fectly quiet, only their eyes shone brightly 
 when they looked up to the light and the people 
 peering down at them. 
 
 In the corner exactly opposite her lay the
 
 122 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 fox, a little tight red ball, no larger than a 
 sofa cushion. In the next lay a creature like 
 a great shaggy dog ; in the third stood the 
 duck on both legs, straight and dignified. 
 Whilst in the fourth there was another of the 
 great furry dogs. 
 
 There was something strange and mysterious 
 in the silence down in the pit. Little-Maid 
 was as silent as all the rest when she stepped 
 back from its edge. 
 
 When they had all looked their fill, the men 
 went away in a group to talk it over. They 
 must kill the wolves, but it was not easy to 
 say how it was to be done. It would have been 
 simple enough to shoot them, but if once blood 
 was shed in the pit, it would be quite spoilt ; 
 not another creature would ever be caught in 
 it again. When it was only a fox in question, 
 a man used to jump down, give him a knock 
 on the head to make him unconscious, tie a 
 loop round his neck and haul him up. There 
 was no danger in jumping down to a fox, but 
 it was quite another matter to go into a pit 
 with no less than two wolves. 
 
 Long-Bengt took the cudgel he generally 
 used to knock the fox senseless, went up to 
 the pit, looked down, shook his head, and went 
 back to the others. One of the Vetter-lads 
 fetched a rope and made a noose of it. He stood 
 on the edge of the pit, and let down his noose 
 straight in front of one wolf. If he could only 
 get the noose over the wolf's head, it would be 
 easy work to pull him up. Down went the 
 noose, lower and lower, right on the creature's
 
 The Fox-pit 123 
 
 nose, but he never stirred. Then suddenly he 
 tossed his head and snapped. Two rows of 
 teeth shone white, and the noose lay bitten 
 off on the floor of the pit. 
 
 Terror filled the hearts of those who saw it. 
 It was no joke to have a tussle with animals 
 who could bite off a rope at one go. " There's 
 no help for it, we shall have to shoot them in 
 the pit," said the Pastor. " Then, of course, 
 we shall have to dig a new pit before next 
 winter." 
 
 But now a man who had been standing a 
 little behind the others stepped up to the pit- 
 head. He was no other than the Henriksberg 
 smith who had come up to Lobyn the evening 
 before to buy hay. But in the bride's home so 
 many guests were staying the night that they 
 could not offer him a bed, and Biorn Hindriksson 
 had begged the Pastor to take him in. Well, 
 the bedroom under the Parsonage roof was 
 always ready to offer to strangers, and there 
 he had passed the night. But in the morning 
 everyone's thoughts had been so taken up 
 with the wolves that they had quite forgotten 
 all about him. 
 
 He looked down into the pit, then took up 
 Long-Bengt's cudgel and weighed it in his hand. 
 But they all thought he was only doing it for 
 amusement. He was very tall but slight, and 
 did not look so very strong. His hands were 
 slender, too, and white, not in the least like 
 a smith's great fists. He didn't look like a man 
 who had had 'a specially happy life. His eyes 
 looked as though all the sorrow he had ever
 
 124 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 felt had taken refuge there and never been 
 washed away by healing tears, and when he 
 moved he seemed borne down by a cruelly 
 heavy burden, for his step was as slow and 
 dragging as a worn-out wayfarer's. 
 
 Now he stood listening to the other men's 
 suggestions for a little time, but when he saw 
 how helpless they were, he jumped, quickly for 
 once, on to the edge of the pit and down right 
 into the very midst of the wild beasts. 
 
 Before anyone realised what was happening, 
 swish went the cudgel, and a dull thud was 
 heard. That was one of the wolves who had 
 got a stunning blow on his head, then another 
 and another. 
 
 The second wolf had got up, so he had a blow 
 on his back that felled him to the ground, and 
 then came a death-stroke on his skull as well. 
 
 " Now down with the rope ! " cried the 
 stranger to the others. 
 
 Long-Bengt threw a rope with a noose down 
 to him. He drew it over the first wolf's head, 
 then over the other's, and had them both 
 drawn up. 
 
 The fox now showed signs of life. He was 
 taking great leaps up the pit walls, but the 
 stranger took no notice of him. " Put down 
 the ladder. The cattle-man can look after the 
 other two," he said. 
 
 As he came up both men and women were so 
 amazed that not a word could they say. When 
 he had jumped down, the women had been so 
 terrified that they stood there trembling, and 
 the men were a little ashamed that they had
 
 The Fox- pit 125 
 
 dared not to do it themselves. But the Pastor's 
 daughter came with shining eyes to meet him. 
 
 " Now, indeed, I have seen a true man," 
 she said. " I have longed for this all my life." 
 
 He looked at her with his sorrowful eyes. 
 " Everything in the world," they seemed to 
 say, " is poor and worthless, and I myself am 
 worse than all else." But at the same time 
 the kindly smile lit up his face. " I thought 
 it was a pity," he said, " to shoot down into 
 the pit and spoil it."
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE SILVER THALER 
 
 IT might be thought that that was nothing 
 to worry over. But in truth the Pastor's 
 daughter had gone about for a couple of weeks 
 feeling quite desperate because she did not 
 know where to get a silver thaler. If only she 
 had asked her father for it the morning after 
 the wedding as she had intended ! But she 
 had had a good scolding from her stepmother 
 for what she had said to the smith when he 
 came out of the fox-pit and not only for what 
 she had said, but for rushing forward as she 
 had done. It had looked just as if she wanted 
 to throw herself on his neck. How much 
 longer would it be before she learnt to behave 
 like a reasonable being and not like a twelve- 
 year-old child ? 
 
 After that, how could she ask for money ? 
 It had been impossible to get her father by 
 himself, and to mention it before her step- 
 mother was only to ask for more reproof and 
 displeasure. Yet it was very tiresome that 
 she had put it off, for next day she could not 
 think of venturing to do it. For then it came 
 to dear Mother's ears that bride, bridegroom, 
 and all the wedding procession from Lobyn 
 
 126
 
 The Silver Thaler 127 
 
 had been at the Parsonage. That wounded 
 her deeply, and how much deeper would the 
 sore have been if she had got to know that Maia 
 Lisa had been audacious enough to give away 
 a whole silver thaler ! But the longer the 
 Pastor's daughter put off mentioning the loan, 
 the harder it grew to confess such a serious debt 
 to her father and stepmother. And at last she 
 had to own to herself that she would certainly 
 never have the courage to ask them for money. 
 It could not be helped, she must try to get it 
 some other way. 
 
 She thought of it by day as she sat sewing 
 the long seams of the linen sheets and thought 
 of it by night in her bed. Of course, she must 
 pay the smith. She could never endure the 
 shame if she did not repay the loan of one who 
 had so kindly come to her help. If only she 
 could have seen Anna Brogren ! But it was 
 quite out of the question. Dear Mother would 
 never let her go to see anyone who loved her. 
 
 But to whom else could she turn ? Grand- 
 mother was as poor as she herself and had 
 nothing but what dear Father gave her. And 
 Ulla Moreus had probably never handled a 
 silver thaler in all his days. 
 
 She was indeed terribly worried. It would 
 not do to go to any chance person and say she 
 dared not ask dear Father and Mother for a 
 silver thaler. 
 
 When she was almost at her wit's end she 
 happened to remember that she had an aunt 
 who might perhaps come to her help. But alas . 
 She could scarcely help laughing when she
 
 128 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 thought of how her aunt would look when she 
 came asking for money. She would be astounded 
 no doubt, for her niece was the greatest stranger 
 possible to her. There was a great impassable 
 gulf fixed between her and Maia Lisa. 
 
 Not that there was any enmity between 
 them, but her aunt had in her young days gone 
 and married a rich peasant's son who had been 
 bold enough to woo her. It had by no means 
 been a love match as far as Maia Lisa could 
 hear. He had had a good opinion of himself, 
 and thought it was a fine thing to get a Pastor's 
 daughter for his wife, whilst she had said quite 
 plainly that she would rather be mistress of a 
 well-to-do peasant household than go home 
 and wait for some poor assistant parson. 
 
 Ever since her aunt had gone to her peasant 
 home she had, of her own accord, kept away 
 from all her family. She wanted to forget her 
 former life altogether, and she was particularly 
 pleased when no one from Lovdala came near 
 her. 
 
 She lived not far away, in the parish of Bro, 
 but she never came to the Parsonage. Instead, 
 Father or Grandmother or Maia Lisa used to 
 drive once a year over to Svanskog and call on 
 her. To be sure Maia Lisa had to own that she 
 had never much enjoyed these visits to the 
 peasant-house. What annoyed her was not 
 that her aunt had in the course of years grown 
 like any other peasant woman, but that she 
 always acted so strangely when anyone came 
 to see her from Lovdala. She never came out 
 to the front steps to bid them welcome, and
 
 The Silver Thaler 129 
 
 when they came into the sitting-room she always 
 made a point of saying that they really should 
 not trouble to come and call at a peasant's 
 house. Then she would at once begin to reckon 
 up how long it was since they had last been 
 there, and that in no spirit of friendliness, but 
 rather in such a way that her visitors felt quite 
 miserable, and wondered if they had done 
 right in coming, or if it would have been better 
 to stay at home. 
 
 How tiresome it was ! One morning when 
 Maia Lisa was sitting at breakfast with her 
 Father and Mother she ventured to mention 
 her aunt in Svanskog, and to say they must not 
 forget her. The words had scarcely passed her 
 lips than she regretted them. For what good 
 was it for her to go to Svanskog ? It would 
 be quite useless, for her aunt was no fonder of 
 her than her stepmother herself. Far from it ; 
 so that if Maia Lisa did drive over, she was by 
 no means sure that she would dare to ask for 
 help. 
 
 Father looked up at once from his porridge- 
 plate. He had always been sorry for the 
 Pastor's daughter who had married a peasant, 
 and he was very anxious she should know 
 that she was not forgotten in her old home. 
 So now he began to wonder when they had last 
 been to see her, perhaps so long ago that they 
 ought to go and call again. 
 
 His wife said not a word, as she had nothing 
 to do with peasant relatives, so Maia Lisa had 
 to answer that no one had been to Svanskog 
 since last Christmas. She was bold enough to
 
 130 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 add that no doubt it would please her aunt 
 most if her Father would drive over and take 
 dear Mother to call. 
 
 But Maia Lisa soon saw that she was not 
 going to get out of the matter so easily. Her 
 Father leant back in his chair looking any- 
 thing but pleased ; no doubt he thought that 
 there ought to be some limit even to family 
 affection. At last he explained that Aunt 
 Margreta had seen so much of him that there 
 was no need for him to drive over to Svanskog. 
 But Mother and Maia Lisa had better go that 
 very day ; in fact, it would fit in excellently, 
 for neither Long-Bengt nor Blackie had any- 
 thing else to do. And so it was settled before 
 breakfast was finished. 
 
 Dear, dear, thought Maia Lisa, how she 
 wished she had bitten off her tongue. Why 
 need she begin talking about Svanskog ? Just 
 think of having to sit and drive twelve miles 
 in the same sleigh with her stepmother ! 
 
 But after breakfast, the Pastor's wife fol- 
 lowed her husband into his room, and when she 
 came out everything had been altered again. 
 She said now that it was quite unnecessary for 
 anyone except Maia Lisa to go to Svanskog. 
 It was plain enough she didn't want to go, but 
 it was good for young people to do what they 
 did not like. And she could walk, not drive ; 
 for her stepmother wanted Long-Bengt to-day 
 to help her with the tallow-boiling. But the 
 next day he could come and fetch her. 
 
 The Pastor's daughter did not dare to betray 
 by look or word whether she was pleased or
 
 The Silver Thaler 131 
 
 sorry. But to herself she thought that, since 
 she must go to Svanskog, she would rather 
 walk by herself than drive in her stepmother's 
 company. 
 
 As she was to be away so long, however, she 
 begged that Little-Maid might look after Grand- 
 mother now and again and see if she wanted 
 anything. 
 
 But dear Mother would most certainly never 
 grant any request of hers, so she at once said 
 that Little-Maid was to go with her to Svanskog. 
 Did Maia Lisa think that her stepmother had 
 so little sense of what was fitting as to let her 
 walk all that way by herself ? And she needn't 
 trouble about Grandmother, there were plenty 
 of women about Lovdala to see to her. 
 
 As usual, the Pastor's wife had her own way, 
 and in less than an hour the Pastor's daughter 
 and Little-Maid had both started. They walked 
 quietly and steadily down the avenue and on 
 the road as long as they were in sight from the 
 Parsonage windows, but soon they came to 
 the outskirts of the great forest where no 
 one at home could catch a glimpse of them. 
 And although the Pastor's daughter certainly 
 thought the long tramp to Svanskog useless 
 and wearisome, yet it happened to be the 
 most glorious winter weather, and straight 
 down in front of them stretched the long slope 
 of a steep hill, and she was free and independent 
 as she had not been for many a month, and felt 
 like a bird set loose from a tiny cage. So 
 seventeen years stretched out a hand to thirteen, 
 and on they rushed at full speed till they landed
 
 132 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 in the great snowdrift at the foot of the slope 
 and lay there helpless with laughter. 
 
 When they reached Svanskog it was only one 
 o'clock. They had had the good luck to get a 
 lift for half their journey. All the way from 
 Broby they had driven with a man from 
 Svanskog, who had taken a gentleman so far 
 and brought them back in his empty sleigh. 
 
 There was an inn in Svanskog, although not 
 nearly so big as the one in Broby, where a fair 
 number of people were always going and coming. 
 Here in Svanskog, in the far north of the 
 parish, there came at the very most only one 
 traveller in a day, and sometimes indeed a 
 whole week would pass without anyone asking 
 for a sleigh. It was all just as usual here. 
 Neither her aunt nor any of her maids came to 
 help the Pastor's daughter and Little-Maid 
 out of the sleigh. 
 
 Dear, dear, how cramped her heart felt, 
 just as if her chest had been tightened up until 
 there was no room for it to beat in ! On her 
 way she had been more hopeful, but as she got 
 out of the sleigh she felt sure her aunt would 
 never help her. 
 
 Svanskog was a great building, with the en- 
 trance in the middle of the longest side, and 
 not poked away in one corner as was usually 
 the case in peasant houses. Outside the front 
 door there was a porch not quite so large as 
 the porch at Lovdala, but with the same kind 
 of roof and pillar supports. 
 
 That was really rather strange ! Often as 
 the Pastor's daughter had been here she had
 
 The Silver Thaler 133 
 
 never noticed the porch before. She had to 
 stand still for a little and look at it and every- 
 thing else. The dwelling-house was old, but 
 it had been repaired and altered since her 
 aunt came, and no doubt she must have taken 
 her childhood's home as a model. The windows 
 had the same number of panes here as there, 
 and the round garret skylights might have been 
 moved from one house to the other without 
 anyone noticing the difference. 
 
 In a second her heart found a little more room 
 to work in. Perhaps it had, after all, not been 
 such a terrible blunder to come here. Perhaps 
 the former Pastor's daughter had not disap- 
 peared so completely as she wanted to make 
 herself and everyone else believe. 
 
 The hall was smaller than in Lovdala. But 
 there were the same rounded cupboards in the 
 corners, and the walls, too, were painted grey 
 with an ornamental pattern of black and white 
 dots. The staircase wall had the same rough 
 wooden beams as at home, and the narrow 
 garret steps were just as steep and dangerous. 
 No doubt it was just as easy here as in Lovdala 
 to slide down the handrail from top to bottom 
 without once touching the ground. 
 
 Exactly opposite the entrance there was a 
 door leading into a large room kept sacred to 
 visitors. None of the household were ever to be 
 found there, but the Pastor's daughter turned 
 the key and peeped in. She saw exactly what 
 she expected : the very same chairs of yellow 
 birch wood and the table with flaps as in the 
 Lovdala drawing-room ; there was even the
 
 134 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 great arum lily by the one window. Yet one 
 thing was a little different, for although the 
 carpet stripes were blue as at home they were not 
 of the same pattern. But it struck Maia Lisa 
 that this was not her aunt's fault. She had 
 copied in her weaving the old carpet patterns 
 of her childhood. It was the Lovdala house- 
 hold who had altered the stripes. 
 
 The Pastor's daughter closed the door and 
 stood silently in the hall. Tears had filled her 
 eyes, but she did not think her aunt would care 
 for such a sign of affection, so she would go 
 in looking calm and cheerful. 
 
 It was Maia Lisa's usual luck again ! When 
 she opened the door to the great living-room 
 she saw her aunt was busy washing. A great 
 boiler was hanging over the fire, and a washing- 
 tub full of clothes stood in the middle of the 
 floor with a little stream of soap-suds trickling 
 out of it. Of course, her aunt would be more 
 vexed than ever at her visit. There was a good 
 deal of water spilt about the room, and a long 
 bench stood covered with the coarse newly 
 washed clothes. Maia Lisa could quite under- 
 stand that no one would care about receiving 
 guests in such a disorderly place. 
 
 There was nothing to remind her of Lovdala 
 in this quite ordinary peasant room. Maia 
 Lisa had always thought of it as a great digni- 
 fied place, with the high cupboards right up 
 to the ceiling, the enormous four-poster bed, 
 and the long benches fastened against the walls. 
 But the wet clothes had taken away every bit 
 of comfort and dignity now.
 
 The Silver Thaler 135 
 
 Her aunt was standing at a washing-tub 
 with her back to the door, rubbing and scrubbing 
 with all her might. Maia Lisa had often heard 
 that her mother and all her sisters had been tall 
 and slight like herself, but her aunt was a great 
 strong woman, by no means slim. She had 
 on her black homespun skirt with a red corslet 
 and white top. Whilst she was working, she 
 had thrown off the short white sheepskin that 
 completed her costume. 
 
 She did not turn towards the door when they 
 opened it, nor speak one word. Maia Lisa 
 wished herself many miles away, and no mis- 
 take. But there was no help for it ; she had to 
 go up to her and offer to shake hands. Her 
 aunt had both hands in the water. She drew 
 one out, and, without troubling to dry it, put it 
 into her niece's outstretched ringers. 
 
 " Oh, so it's you that have come at last," 
 she said. " I suppose the Pastor's new wife is 
 too grand to call on us peasant folk/' 
 
 She said really nothing worse than that, and 
 did not speak more unkindly than usual, but 
 Maia Lisa could not have been so long-suffering 
 as she generally was, for she burst into tears. 
 Maybe she took it so to heart because she had 
 come a-begging, and felt now that she would 
 never dare to utter her request. 
 
 It only needed this flow of tears to make her 
 utterly miserable. Oh dear, dear, how could 
 she let herself go like that before this aunt who 
 had never cared for her ! And it was not like 
 one or two tears, that were easily wiped away. 
 But down they came, pouring over her cheeks,
 
 136 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 whilst there was such a lump in her throat that 
 she could not utter a word. 
 
 How bitterly ashamed she was of herself. 
 She cried because she was crying, and when 
 one gets to that pass there is no end indeed to 
 the tears. She would have liked to rush away, 
 and go home again that very moment. She 
 did get as far as the door, but when she got 
 there she felt so weak that her knees gave way 
 under her, and she sank down on to a short little 
 bench standing by. 
 
 She pictured to herself all the time what her 
 aunt must think of her coming in crying and 
 disturbing her in the middle of her washing. 
 Not that she seemed particularly uneasy. She 
 left off rubbing the clothes, but took time to 
 empty a bucket of hot water into the wash-tub 
 and put a couple of logs on the fire before she 
 came to her. 
 
 " You needn't take it so much to heart," she 
 said ; " maybe my bark is worse than my bite." 
 
 But if she thought that would dry her niece's 
 tears, she was much mistaken. They came 
 from such a deep and overflowing source of 
 sorrow that once they began to flow they must 
 go on for hours. 
 
 The Pastor's daughter could not answer a 
 word, although she knew very well that her 
 aunt would lose patience and need to go and 
 look after her washing. But Fru Margreta did 
 not seem at a loss, but turned to Little-Maid, 
 who had stood all the time beside Mamsell 
 Maia Lisa and was now timidly stroking her 
 one hand.
 
 The Silver Thaler 137 
 
 " Perhaps you can tell me what she is crying 
 for ? She surely is not upset because I had no 
 time to shake hands properly ? ' 
 
 Her voice sounded as though she wanted to 
 laugh at the whole matter, and Little-Maid 
 must have noticed it, for in a moment she was 
 furious. 
 
 " No wonder she cries when you treat her 
 like that. Here she comes to get help from her 
 mother's very own sister, and you have never 
 a kind word to say to her/' 
 
 The Pastor's daughter put her hand hastily 
 over Little-Maid's mouth, but it was of no use, 
 for Little-Maid could not endure seeing Mamsell 
 Maia Lisa cry without turning into a very 
 determined little stormwind indeed. 
 
 Fra Margreta was not apparently vexed with 
 Little-Maid, but her answer came in fretful 
 tones as she said slowly in a much broader 
 dialect than before : Whatever could she do 
 for Maia Lisa, who lived in such luxury at 
 Lovdala that she could certainly need no help 
 from a poor peasant woman ? 
 
 Nothing she could say would have been more 
 likely to set off Little-Maid. " No doubt you 
 are cut out of the same piece as her stepmother," 
 she said. " If you hadn't been I would have 
 
 told you that she came here to ask you for 
 a " 
 
 But now the Pastor's daughter seized her 
 arm so sharply that she stopped. But Fru 
 Margreta went on as though nothing had been 
 said. 
 
 " Can it be so hard for Maia Lisa to have got
 
 138 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 a stepmother ? The saying goes that whoever 
 gets a stepmother, gets a stepfather too, but it 
 can't have been so with her. Is it possible that 
 there is anything she wants to have and can't 
 get ? " 
 
 The Pastor's daughter was making all possible 
 signs to Little-Maid, but what use were they 
 when her aunt sat there egging her on like that ? 
 ' You can see for yourself how things are 
 with her," said Little-Maid, " if you have any 
 eyes to see with. Her clothes are not much 
 better than mine, and she is nothing but skin 
 and bone. People say blood is thicker than 
 water, but yours isn't, I know. Not a scrap 
 would you care if her stepmother plagued her 
 to death." 
 
 What a misery this all was for Mamsell Maia 
 Lisa ; it was bad enough not to be able to 
 conquer her tears, but ten times worse to hear 
 her aunt entice Little-Maid to talk of all kinds 
 of things. Who knew how her aunt would take 
 it all ? Maybe she really disliked her sister's 
 daughter, and would be glad at what she heard. 
 
 She could bear it no longer. She got up and 
 stumbled towards the door. But there was 
 something wrong with the latch when she tried 
 to lift it. She could not get it up at once, and 
 as she pushed and pulled her strength gave 
 way, her head swam, and she fell to the ground. 
 
 When she came to herself again she was lying 
 in a bed in the room with the blue-striped 
 pieces of carpet, lying too on such soft pillows 
 and fine linen sheets as scarcely had their 
 equal in Lovdala. By the bedside stood a table
 
 The Silver Thaler 139 
 
 with a tray, and on the tray a dish covered with 
 a white cloth. 
 
 She did feel a little hungry, so she hastened 
 to take the cloth from the dish. But there was 
 nothing to eat under it, only a great, beautiful, 
 shining silver thaler. 
 
 At first she did not know what it all meant, 
 but then she understood well enough. Her 
 aunt had wormed the truth out of Little-Maid. 
 She felt so happy and so grateful that she began 
 to cry again, and after a few tears she fell 
 asleep. 
 
 She slept straight on till the great clock in the 
 living-room struck three. When she looked 
 round, the silver thaler was gone, and in its 
 place all kinds of good food by the bed. At 
 first she felt frightened at the loss of the thaler, 
 but then she consoled herself with the thought 
 that she was in good hands now. When she 
 had eaten the food, she was so overcome with 
 gratitude for all the kindness shown her that 
 once again her eyes filled with tears, and once 
 more she cried herself to sleep. 
 
 When next she woke it was dark night. A 
 fire was burning in the stove, and her aunt was 
 sitting by the bed watching her. 
 
 The first thing she said was that Maia Lisa 
 must excuse her having taken the liberty to 
 send the silver thaler to the young man who 
 had lent it. A post sleigh had gone over to 
 Henriksberg that afternoon, and the driver 
 had been told to find out which of the smiths 
 had been at Christmas to buy hay in Lobyn. 
 He was to give him the thaler with many
 
 140 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 thanks from the Pastor's daughter. She 
 thought that that was the best plan, for it 
 was not so easy for Mala Lisa to send a mes- 
 senger all the way from Svartsjo right up to 
 Henriksberg. 
 
 Once more the Pastor's daughter was so 
 overcome with gratitude that she could scarcely 
 speak. Her aunt, however, would not let the 
 tears come again, but began to ask instead all 
 kinds of questions about Lovdala. She did not 
 speak about her stepmother or anything worry- 
 ing, but only about things she could not mind. 
 How was her grandmother ? Did she keep her 
 room in the brewhouse still as nicely as she used 
 to ? And how about Old Bengta and the 
 men's room ? Was it as dirty as ever ? And 
 were there still owls in the garret ? and did the 
 thrush still perch on the top of the pine by the 
 Resting-Stone and sing away on spring even- 
 ings ? And were the lilies of the valley still 
 growing in the birch-wood behind the orchard ? 
 Was the old barn still standing ? and was the 
 new parsonage-house that Maia Lisa's father 
 had put up exactly like the old one ? And 
 were the sheep still kept in the dark old sheep- 
 house ? 
 
 The Pastor's daughter lay there listening in 
 utter astonishment. There was nothing that her 
 aunt forgot to ask about. As last she spoke a 
 little about herself. " I must tell you that when 
 I was first married I went home to Lovdala as 
 often as ever I could. I saw that the Svanskog 
 people did not like it, but still I went to ease 
 my heart, for to begin with, I did not settle
 
 The Silver Thaler 141 
 
 down very well here. You can understand that 
 it wasn't very easy for me. My mother-in-law 
 disliked me as your stepmother does you. And 
 there was someone else, too, who was very stern 
 and hard. We were not so fond of one another 
 as we have grown since, and that was the 
 hardest burden of all. But then I noticed 
 that every time I went to Lovdala, the harder 
 it was to come back again. And at last I had 
 to take myself in hand and ask what I really 
 meant to do. This was the place I had chosen 
 for my home, and here I had to live. It was 
 really foolish of me to spoil my life by longing 
 for what I had left behind. I made up my 
 mind never again to go to Lovdala, nor to have 
 anything more to do with the Lovdala people. 
 I would cut myself quite off from my old life. 
 And it really was best for me, for after that 
 I grew happier myself and the others changed 
 too towards me when they saw that I really 
 meant to belong to them. 
 
 " You can guess that they watched me when 
 you came to call. But they saw and under- 
 stood that I did all I could not to be friendly 
 with you. 
 
 " Yes, indeed, I had built such a strong 
 wall between you and me that I thought nothing 
 on earth could break it down. But I hadn't 
 ever thought that a Pastor's daughter from 
 Lovdala would one day come to me, little and 
 weak as I was myself at her age, and ask for 
 my help. Then, you see, all my strength gave 
 out. 
 
 " But you must not think either that your
 
 142 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 coming will make things disagreeable for me 
 at home. Do you know what I did just now 
 when you were asleep ? Well, I just took hold 
 of my husband's shirt-sleeve and brought him 
 to the door to peep at you. And then I told 
 him all about it, and asked if he had any objec- 
 tion to my helping you. And I will tell you 
 what he said : ' The little maid lying in there 
 is so like what you were yourself when you first 
 came to me, so like she is, that if there is any- 
 one who won't be good to her and help her, 
 I'll let him hear of it, that I will.' "
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THE PASTOR FROM FINLAND 
 
 MAIA LISA fancied she must be be- 
 witched, for do what she would she 
 could not forget her stepmother. All morning 
 she had been in her thoughts, and although she 
 knew she was fully occupied making her candles 
 at Lovdala, she started involuntarily every time 
 the door opened, for fear lest dear Mother 
 should step in and see how badly she was 
 behaving. 
 
 Just imagine if Fru Raklitz had known she 
 was still asleep at eight o'clock that morning, 
 and, worse still, that her aunt had been so kind 
 as to bring her a cup of coffee in bed, although 
 all coffee-drinking was forbidden by His Majesty 
 the King. What a shock for dear Mother who 
 insisted so that all rules and regulations must 
 be obeyed ! How her cheeks would flame at 
 the very idea ! 
 
 Or imagine either if she could have seen how 
 Maia Lisa's aunt left her work all day to sit on 
 the bench between the window and the par- 
 lour table and chat with her ! Or if she could 
 have heard her aunt laugh as her niece talked 
 about her stepmother and all her doings ! For 
 now that Maia Lisa was rested she was no longer 
 
 143
 
 144 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 a cry-baby, but ready to make a joke of all her 
 troubles. No doubt dear Mother had expected 
 that this aunt would treat Maia Lisa as she did 
 herself. How annoyed she would have been if 
 she could only have seen how mistaken she 
 was. 
 
 But indeed it would not have been such a 
 terrible mishap if the Pastor's wife had burst 
 upon Maia Lisa when she was alone with her 
 aunt. Had she come a little later in the day, 
 it would have been far worse. 
 
 In the middle of the morning a traveller came 
 driving into the inn-yard. Maia Lisa turned 
 quickly to the window and saw a tall, fine- 
 looking man getting out of a little green sleigh. 
 He was dressed in a suit of homespun so light 
 that it was almost white, and he was wearing 
 no fur, but that apparently was from choice, 
 for it was evident from the frank and hearty 
 way in which he shook hands with the peasant 
 host that he was a gentleman. Her aunt was 
 so accustomed to strangers that she never 
 troubled to turn her head until Maia Lisa 
 begged her to look out of the window and tell 
 her who the handsome man was. 
 
 Fortunately her aunt could answer her in- 
 quiry. The stranger outside was, to be sure, 
 no one but the minister from Finnerud, Pastor 
 Liliecrona. 
 
 The Pastor's wife ought to have been there 
 to see how Maia Lisa started when she heard 
 the stranger's name. Even her aunt noticed 
 it with some curiosity, but that did not matter, 
 for Maia Lisa was quite pleased to tell her about
 
 The Pastor from Finland 145 
 
 the magic pancake and her dream. It would 
 have been utterly impossible to tell such a tale 
 to her stepmother, who would only have tossed 
 her head in contempt at the folly of it all. 
 
 But her aunt, on the other hand, took it all 
 in dead earnest. " It wouldn't be so much amiss 
 for you if you could get him," she said. " He 
 is not only good-looking, but a real fine fellow 
 as well." 
 
 Maia Lisa sat in utter astonishment. Surely 
 her aunt never meant that she could marry the 
 Pastor of Finnerud. Why, that parish lay right 
 away in the north, farther away even than 
 Vastmarken. And nobody lived there but 
 Finns who had gone there two or three hundred 
 years ago, and couldn't even speak Swedish. 
 Finnerud seemed as outlandish to Maia Lisa as 
 if it were in farthest confines of Lapland. 
 
 But her aunt set her mind at rest. She 
 needn't be afraid of having to live in Finnerud, 
 for, although Pastor Liliecrona had worked there 
 for eleven years, he was probably leaving now 
 and going to the living of Sjoskoga. Then 
 Maia Lisa began to understand why her aunt 
 was so eager over the matter. She had not been 
 a Pastor's daughter in her young days with- 
 out knowing very well that Sjoskoga was the 
 best living in the district. 
 
 But Finnerud or Sjoskoga were all one to 
 Maia Lisa ; her husband would have to be the 
 Pastor of Svartsjo and live in Lovdala. 
 
 " Yes, so you say now; but when the right 
 man comes, you'll not trouble about either 
 parish or house."
 
 146 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 And so seriously was it said that Maia Lisa 
 had to turn and look out of the window once 
 again. Yes, indeed the Pastor was very hand- 
 some, with his broad shoulders and his bright 
 blue eyes. He spoke too in a clear, pleasant 
 voice that could be heard quite well indoors. 
 His host stood listening to him with a pleased 
 look on his face, whilst the men hurried from 
 stall and barn to unyoke his horse. 
 
 " Look how they come from every nook 
 and cranny. It is plain enough who it is, for 
 they are all fond of the Finnerud Pastor. 
 Evidently he is going to stay a little instead of 
 going on at once, so you will get a chance to 
 speak to him." 
 
 Scarcely had the words left Fru Margreta's 
 lips than the door opened and the Pastor 
 came in. 
 
 As he crossed the threshold he called out to 
 her that his host had told him to go into the 
 grand drawing-room, but he had no wish to 
 sit by himself, so would Mother Margreta object 
 to his joining her in the parlour ? He would 
 perhaps have to wait some long time in the 
 inn, for his brother, the foreman at Henriks- 
 berg, had made an appointment with him here 
 but had not come. He did not know what he 
 wanted, for he had only heard last night by a 
 special ski messenger and had not started till 
 early in the morning, so that his brother ought 
 really to have got there first. 
 
 As his words came pouring out, Fru Margreta 
 went to welcome him, and Maia Lisa fancied 
 she was as pleased to see him as the men out-
 
 The Pastor from Finland 147 
 
 side. At last her aunt got in a word to tell him 
 he might sit in the parlour as long as he liked. 
 He would not be coming there many more times. 
 She must congratulate him on the great pro- 
 motion he was getting, although it would be a 
 sad loss to her not to see him any more. 
 
 He made an impatient gesture. " I don't 
 know what to do, Mother Margreta. I think I'll 
 
 refuse it altogether. But what the No, 
 
 no, that's not the right word for a Pastor's 
 tongue." 
 
 The cause of his sudden exclamation was 
 neither more nor less than that he had caught 
 sight of the Pastor's daughter. She had been 
 sitting all the time on the window-seat and he 
 had only just noticed her. 
 
 Maia Lisa was not a little taken aback when 
 he went on to ask in his clear voice : " What 
 dainty thing is this that you have got in your 
 house, Mother Margreta ? '' Fru Margreta ex- 
 plained who she was, but he did not behave any 
 more properly for her answer. 
 
 He could well believe that she was one of the 
 beautiful daughters of the Lovdala parsonage. 
 How glad he was to get a sight of her at last, 
 after the many times he had begged Mother 
 Margreta to invite him to meet her niece, so 
 that he might know if what people said of her 
 was true. 
 
 Maia Lisa was not only taken aback, but really 
 frightened. It wasn't fitting to sit and listen 
 
 to such things. If her stepmother But 
 
 true ! Her stepmother was busy making candles 
 in Lovdala. Her aunt evidently saw her dis-
 
 148 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 tress and tried to turn his glances in another 
 direction. 
 
 Surely he was never thinking of refusing 
 Sjoskoga ? she said. He ought to be glad at 
 his age to have the offer of important work like 
 that. She had been told that as a rule it was 
 only old men who managed to get such a fat 
 living ! 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. He had never 
 meant to go there. Fortune had been too kind 
 to him, for he was quite content where he was. 
 
 But surely he had applied for it ? 
 
 Oh yes, all his relatives were to blame for 
 that, for they had driven him to it. 
 
 He had forgotten Maia Lisa by now as com- 
 pletely as if she had never been there at all. 
 He was thinking of his own affairs as he walked 
 up and down the room with hasty steps and 
 knitted brow. He had a long lock of hair over 
 his forehead which he continually seized and 
 pushed straight up on end only to let it fall down 
 again. He did not seem to be at all satisfied 
 himself with his appearance, although for her 
 part she was obliged to own that he looked 
 equally well whatever he did 
 
 At last he stopped in front of Fru Margreta 
 and asked if he might beg for some advice. 
 He had turned the matter over in his mind so 
 often that by now he did not know right from 
 wrong. 
 
 At this, Maia Lisa got up. She thought she 
 had no right to sit there listening to his secrets. 
 But he was one of those people who have 
 eyes in the back of their head. And no sooner
 
 The Pastor from Finland 149 
 
 did he notice her than he begged her to stay 
 where she was. It was such a pleasure to have 
 something beautiful to look at. 
 
 But she had already grown so accustomed 
 to him that she never even blushed. And 
 indeed there was no reason to feel abashed, for 
 she saw plainly enough that he only looked 
 upon her as a beautiful doll, and it certainly 
 never occurred to him for a single moment that 
 the doll could have both ears and thoughts of 
 her own. 
 
 When he began to talk with her aunt he sat 
 down on the edge of the broad table with his 
 back to the Pastor's daughter, so that she 
 thought she was far from his mind, but at that 
 moment he got astride on a chair and fixed his 
 eyes on her face. 
 
 Well, to begin with, he wanted to ask Mother 
 Margreta if she had heard what a great deal 
 of trouble he had caused the folk in Finland 
 ever since he went there. Did she know that 
 the very first time he had preached in the 
 church at Finnerud the old Finn men and 
 women had sat there wondering what misdeed 
 he could have committed to be sent up to them ? 
 
 Fru Margreta had her answer ready, but he 
 gave her no time to speak. Yes, it really was 
 a fact that they had done so, and perhaps not 
 quite without some show of reason. They 
 knew what a house they had to offer their 
 Pastor and how much stipend he got, and 
 they knew well enough they could not expect 
 any Pastors except those no one else wanted. 
 And then when they saw him
 
 150 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 The fine-looking man stopped short, quite 
 at a loss how to go on, but Fru Margreta 
 finished the sentence for him. 
 
 " They certainly thought the Pastor was 
 too young and too good-looking to come to 
 them." 
 
 He started off again at full speed. Oh well, 
 they saw he wasn't a hundred years old, and 
 although they didn't understand what he said 
 in his Swedish tongue, yet they heard that he 
 could both talk and sing. They agreed, these 
 old men and women, that he was one who 
 ought to be living in a parsonage with lofty 
 rooms and large windows, and that he would 
 never have come up to them if there had not 
 been something wrong with him. 
 
 " Perhaps it wasn't very easy to think any- 
 thing else ? " 
 
 No, that was just why. And no sooner did 
 one of them go down over the Swedish border 
 to sell bear hides and sheep skins than they 
 told him to be sure and find out what was wrong 
 with the Pastor. 
 
 And Pastor Liliecrona jumped up from the 
 chair and paced up and down the room. Evi- 
 dently he was still excited about it after all 
 these years. But Fru Margreta only laughed 
 and asked if their messenger had found out 
 anything. 
 
 Ah, what were they likely to find ? When 
 they came back, they knew nothing more than 
 that he had been sent up to Finnerud at his 
 own request. 
 
 But the old Finn men and women stuck
 
 The Pastor from Finland 151 
 
 to their own opinion. It was, of course, im- 
 possible to believe that he had come to them 
 because they were desolate and neglected and 
 parted from their own people. There must be 
 some other reason. 
 
 " You see, Pastor, they are so clever up in 
 Finnerud ! You mustn't expect too much of 
 them." 
 
 But now when they had heard quite certainly 
 that he had done nothing wrong, they had to 
 believe it. But they were not satisfied until 
 they had hit upon an explanation to suit them. 
 No doubt he had only come up to them to get 
 a little practice in his calling. He would cer- 
 tainly go elsewhere as soon as he felt a little 
 more at home in the pulpit. 
 
 " And they were not right in that either ? " 
 
 " No, that they weren't, for I have been 
 there now eleven years/' And he added with 
 an angry laugh, " But even now they must 
 needs puzzle their heads over me. There isn't 
 a better-born man in the parish, and if I had 
 grumbled over my loneliness, that they would 
 have understood. Or if I had shut myself up 
 in the Parsonage with only my books for 
 company, that they would have understood too. 
 But a Pastor who was out and about and 
 content to associate with Finn peasants ! A 
 Pastor who wanted to know how they cultivated 
 their boggy lands, or how they burnt their 
 clearings, and a Pastor who went hunting with 
 them, was indeed, beyond their understanding." 
 
 Now he was astride the chair again and 
 twisted it half round so that he sat eye to eye
 
 152 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 with Maia Lisa. But he went on speaking to 
 her aunt. 
 
 When he had been some years in Finnerud 
 he began one Sunday to preach in Finnish. 
 And every creature had been so touched that 
 there wasn't a dry eye in the church, and it 
 certainly did not occur to anyone to question 
 his motives before the service was over. But, 
 once out of the church, they had begun in the 
 same old way again. Whatever reason had the 
 Pastor for speaking in Finnish ? They went to 
 Peter, the Pastor's man, and questioned him. 
 Had he understood that the Pastor was wanting 
 another living ? Peterkin, however, had never 
 noticed but what his master was quite con- 
 tent to live in an ordinary Finn hut with only 
 one room and a fire without a chimney, so that 
 a hole had to be made in the roof to let out the 
 smoke. So they went their way, not under- 
 standing any better than before. It was no 
 wonder he got tired of such things, was it ? 
 
 The Pastor must remember, said Fru Mar- 
 greta, " that we down here have not always 
 been very pleasant to strangers." 
 
 But not to understand such a simple matter 
 as that their Pastor wished them well ! They 
 would have been quite pleased if he had gone 
 with a long face grieving that he had to waste 
 the best years of his life amongst poor Finn 
 peasants. It made them quite uneasy to see 
 him content and happy. 
 
 One year he told some of the Finn children 
 to come to him and learn Swedish, so that 
 they would not be so helpless as their fathers
 
 The Pastor from Finland 153 
 
 when they went to the Swedish courts or 
 markets. But when the old Finns heard the 
 children begin to talk Swedish the same distrust 
 awoke again. So, straight they went to Peter. 
 Perhaps the Pastor wanted more money ? 
 But Peter told them he had never heard but 
 what the pastor was satisfied with pay no 
 better than the wages that a Swedish peasant 
 would pay his farm-hand. Peterkin was the 
 only one up there with a grain of sense. 
 
 It had been just the same tale when he 
 taught the Finn women how to grow flax. 
 He had gone with them, planted it, hackled it 
 and teased it. But when they had got so far 
 as to have their own flax to spin in their huts 
 their old suspicions came back. Why had the 
 Pastor taught them how to grow flax ? They 
 could not possibly understand, so they were 
 obliged to apply to Peterkin again. The 
 Pastor, they supposed, was not wanting a 
 fresh road up to his house ? But Peter answered 
 that his master was content with the road he 
 had, although it was so rough and full of holes 
 that it was scarcely possible for a horse to 
 get up it except when it was covered with snow 
 and ice. 
 
 Well yes, Mother Margreta could well under- 
 stand how annoying all that was. Perhaps 
 that was why he had tried for something 
 else? 
 
 It had had something to do with it, for he 
 had been so vexed at never being able to win 
 their confidence. But the chief reason had 
 been that his mother and all the family had so
 
 154 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 overwhelmed him with entreaties. They, in- 
 deed, had been just as impossible to deal with 
 as the Finn peasants. They were for ever 
 writing to him that he was wasting his life, 
 and urging him to try for a living farther south 
 whenever a fairly good one fell vacant. They 
 had worn him out with their arguments, of 
 course, but he had paid no heed, for he wanted 
 to do his duty. Then when Sjoskoga 
 
 He stopped short and went and stood straight 
 in front of the Pastor's daughter. " Of course," 
 he said thoughtfully, looking at her, " I could 
 never get such a wife as this if I stayed in Fin- 
 nerud." 
 
 It was plain enough that he admired her 
 beauty, but nothing more. He looked at her as 
 he would have looked at a painted picture. 
 Not even her stepmother could have found any 
 tenderness in the long glances he fixed upon her. 
 
 And in another second he was telling of his 
 troubles again. 
 
 When the old rural dean Cameen of Sjoskoga 
 had followed his wife and died last summer, 
 leaving his post vacant, it had struck him that 
 he might apply for it. He thought he might 
 as well please his mother by sending in his 
 application, as there was no chance of its 
 leading to anything. Sjoskoga had always 
 been given to some old professor or head of a 
 school who petitioned the King directly for it. 
 And besides, he rather wanted to see how they 
 would take it in Finnerud. But, after all, it 
 was mostly a little feeling of mischief that sent 
 him down to Karlstad with his testimonials.
 
 The Pastor from Finland 155 
 
 He hesitated many a time on the way. 
 Perhaps he would only be laughed at ; a chap- 
 lain from Finnerud was certainly taking a 
 good deal on himself in applying for a great 
 living like that. Yet, as he was on the way, 
 he thought he would go as far as Karlstad, and 
 not hand in his papers until he saw who else 
 had applied. 
 
 The journey took longer than he had ex- 
 pected, and he only reached the town just an 
 hour before the closing of the application list. 
 He had barely time to stable his horse and 
 hurry up to the Consistory Court. 
 
 As he climbed the steps, however, he was so 
 overcome with remorse that he determined 
 to go back again. But the registrar was a 
 special friend of his, and as he was there any- 
 way, he would just step in and see him. He need 
 not mention Sjoskoga, but say he had come 
 down to Karlstad to see his mother. 
 
 No sooner had he put his head round the 
 door than the registrar exclaimed : " Someone 
 at last to apply for Sjoskoga. I have been 
 expecting you ever since the living has been 
 vacant." 
 
 At first he thought his friend was only joking, 
 so he answered that he had come to town to 
 meet his mother. How could he imagine 
 he was thinking of Sjoskoga ? He was not 
 so far left to himself as not to know that 
 His Majesty the King would give Sjoskoga 
 to some old learned divine from Upsala or 
 Lund. 
 
 " I should think you are all of that opinion,"
 
 156 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 said the registrar. " You are all so modest 
 that no one ventures to apply. But times are 
 changed since the last King's death. I was 
 delighted when you came in, for I have only 
 had two applications. We must have one 
 more at any rate, so out with your papers." 
 
 In this way he had been enticed into leaving 
 his application. When he got home, for a few 
 days he wondered if it would be successful. 
 But he was soon busy with his usual occupa- 
 tions and had forgotten the whole matter, when 
 one day he had a communication from the 
 Consistory. He was third on the select list, 
 and in a few weeks he was to come to Sjoskoga 
 for his trial sermon. 
 
 It was no pleasure to him no, not for a 
 moment indeed, he would have liked to with- 
 draw his application, but he did not do so 
 because he had no wish to have it said that 
 he was afraid to preach in a parish where there 
 were so many rich peasants and gentlefolk. As 
 Mother Margreta knew, he came of an old Pastor's 
 family, and did not want people to think he 
 was unworthy of his father and grandfather. 
 So he went and preached whilst his hearers 
 sat and listened devoutly. But he did not 
 know what they were thinking. He was glad to 
 get home again and feel that that was, no doubt, 
 the end of the whole matter. But just before 
 Christmas he received an intimation that all 
 had gone well and that he had been chosen 
 unanimously. 
 
 He said this in such distressed tones that 
 Fru Margreta could not help laughing.
 
 The Pastor from Finland 157 
 
 If he really didn't want to go, he could with- 
 draw. 
 
 That was exactly what he had tried to do, 
 but then the bishop himself wrote urging him 
 not to refuse. There was every prospect 
 of his nomination being confirmed. His mother, 
 too, got word of the matter, and wrote begging 
 and praying him not to throw away such a 
 piece of good fortune. And not only his 
 mother, but his brothers, his sisters, and even 
 his cousins. He had not known until then 
 how many relations he had. 
 
 Well, and they were right too, of course. 
 You cannot be 
 
 He interrupted her as he almost ran across 
 the room and pressed his clenched fist against 
 his forehead in a kind of almost comic despair. 
 Then there were those blessed Finn peasants. 
 Did Mother Margreta know what they had 
 taken into their heads to do ? As soon as they 
 heard that he might be going to move they 
 had cut timber in the forest and driven it up 
 to build him a new house. They had not 
 actually increased his stipend in money, but 
 they had done it in another way. One day a 
 fine elk skin lay in his sledge, another time he 
 found a tub of butter outside his door. They 
 said not a word, indeed, when they met him, 
 but when he was in the pulpit, young and old 
 fixed their eyes on him, so that he knew they 
 were every one of them thinking : " Surely 
 you will not forsake us. If you do, far better 
 you had never come." 
 
 So, at last he knew that they wanted to keep
 
 158 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 him. He stepped up to Fru Margreta, sat down 
 beside her and took her hard, toil-worn hand 
 in his. " Now think, Mother Margreta," he 
 said in such an earnest, tender voice that 
 both she and Maia Lisa felt their eyes fill with 
 tears, " suppose anyone came and told you 
 that you could move to a great fine estate on 
 condition that you left this home and all you had 
 held dear here all your life ! What would you 
 do then ? w 
 
 But no one heard what Mother Margreta 
 meant to answer, for Maia Lisa could not 
 possibly restrain herself any longer. She rushed 
 up to the Pastor with flaming cheeks, and in a 
 voice trembling with eagerness cried out that 
 most certainly he must stay in Finnerud. 
 Why should he go to Sjoskoga ? No doubt 
 they could get along well enough without him 
 there. But when he had done so much for the 
 Finn peasants, how could he ever dream of 
 leaving them ? 
 
 She would have said a good deal more if 
 someone had not just chanced to come to the 
 door. Then she came to herself again, and 
 although it was not her stepmother but only 
 one of the maids, she stopped short in con- 
 fusion and would not go on. 
 
 But the young Pastor understood what she 
 meant. He jumped up and came towards her 
 with outstretched arms. He looked as though 
 he wanted to clasp her to his heart, but he only 
 took both hands and pressed them between 
 his own. " Mamsell Maia Lisa, dearest Mam- 
 sell Maia Lisa," he said very earnestly, " Mam-
 
 The Pastor from Finland 159 
 
 sell Maia Lisa, you are the very first of my own 
 position to believe that I am doing any good 
 up there. I thank you with all my heart. 
 
 Indeed, indeed, I will " 
 
 He stopped short just as the promise was on 
 his lips. The words died unuttered, his hands 
 twitched, and as the Pastor's daughter looked 
 up at him in astonishment she noticed that 
 every feature was contorted with the deepest 
 suffering. He turned away, went down the 
 room, and came back to bend over her as he 
 said in a voice half inaudible from strong 
 emotion : "I will refuse it if I can. If I am 
 not able, it is Mamsell Maia Lisa's fault."
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 THE SMITH FROM HENRIKSBERG 
 
 LL that day there was but one short 
 hour when Maia Lisa forgot her step- 
 mother, and that was in the evening when she 
 sat with Pastor Liliecrona and all the house- 
 hold round the great log fire in the living- 
 room listening to the tall dark smith from 
 Henriksberg, as he leant against one of the 
 cupboards playing on the master's fiddle. 
 
 It was so pleasant then that Maia Lisa thought 
 she understood how her aunt could feel con- 
 tent to be a peasant's wife. It was so won- 
 derfully comfortable in the evening to sit 
 round the fire in the midst of one's servants, 
 all busy with their work and all cheerful and 
 ready for a chat. Master and man, mistress 
 and maid, all talked together here as if there 
 were no distinction between them. Was there 
 after all any special happiness in living as 
 gentlefolk and trying to be thought grander 
 than other people ? Did such a life bear in 
 the end any better fruit than loneliness and 
 sorrow ? 
 
 Where is there such safety and comfort as 
 in an old peasant home ? Maia Lisa felt they 
 
 160
 
 The Smith from Henriksberg 161 
 
 were nearer nature there than anywhere else, 
 that their life was built on stronger foundations, 
 and not exposed to so many dangers as other 
 people's. Think what change and how many 
 dangers in the world outside ! Now whilst 
 the dark-haired smith was playing, her thoughts 
 went back to what she had heard that day 
 about the manager of Henriksberg, the man 
 who had once been such a wonderful violin 
 player. 
 
 It was Pastor Liliecrona who had told her 
 about his brother. He had been expecting 
 him at Svanskog all day long, and no doubt 
 that was why they happened to talk so much 
 about him. 
 
 Maia Lisa had had the comfort of knowing 
 that the handsome Pastor who at first had 
 only looked upon her as a beautiful doll had 
 scarcely spoken a word to anyone else ever 
 since the moment when she had, so to speak, 
 fallen upon him and told him that he must stop 
 in Finnerud and not even dream of moving 
 to Sjoskoga. 
 
 He must then have seen that she was a human 
 being like himself, for after that he had not 
 troubled to look at her, but had talked to her 
 instead the whole afternoon ; and very pleasant 
 it had been, for he was as kindly as he was 
 unaffected and simple-hearted. She found it 
 quite as easy to talk to him as to her own 
 dear father. 
 
 He had taken her out with him in the after- 
 noon, for he never could sit indoors hour after 
 hour, and they had walked up and down the
 
 1 62 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 high road talking of his brother, until the day 
 began to draw in. 
 
 Liliecrona came of generations of pastors no 
 less than she did, and could boast that his 
 father, grandfather, and great-grandfather had 
 all followed one another in the same rural 
 deanery just as she prided herself that her 
 mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother 
 had been the wives of successive pastors of 
 the same church. 
 
 If his father had lived, the youngest son, 
 Sven, would, no doubt, have studied for the 
 ministry as his brothers had done before him. 
 But when his mother was left a widow with a 
 large family to provide for, she had not been 
 able to keep him at school. But an old friend 
 of her husband's, Herr Altringer, the owner of 
 the Ekeby ironworks, had offered to take 
 charge of him on condition that he might bring 
 him up as an engineer. His offer was most 
 gratefully accepted, and when Sven was four- 
 teen years old he was sent to the Henriksberg 
 works, which Herr Altringer had just bought. 
 Herr Altringer wished him to learn his business 
 from the very beginning, so he was set to 
 sweep the office, drag coal into the smithy, 
 and run errands for all and sundry. 
 
 Sven was kept at these tasks till he was 
 seventeen, but then one day the works manager 
 was informed that one of the forge workers 
 was very ill. He went down to the workshops, 
 stood in the doorway of the smith's room, 
 looked at the sick man for a moment, and then 
 went straight to the office where the foreman
 
 The Smith from Henriksberg 163 
 
 was sitting writing. " You must look after the 
 works for a couple of days," said the manager. 
 " I have to go off to the Finns and buy in coal." 
 
 So off he went whilst the foreman took a 
 comfortable seat on the office sofa, and thought 
 it was a fine thing to be master for a little. 
 But it was not very long before he, too, was 
 called down to the workshops. Now it was one 
 of the other workmen who was attacked in the 
 same way as the hammer smith. The foreman 
 went down at once to visit the invalid, stood 
 awhile on the threshold of his room looking at 
 him, and went straightway to the stream 
 where the apprentice lad was generally to be 
 found fishing for bleak. 
 
 And sure enough he found Sven there and 
 asked him to come to the office. " Look here, 
 Liliecrona," he said, " the manager is away and 
 I have been invited to a friend's at a distance, 
 so you must just manage to look after the works 
 for a couple of days. Here are the keys and the 
 cash-box ; all you have to do is to see that the 
 men go on with their work as usual." With 
 that he went off and the apprentice lad sat 
 down on the office chair and thought how fine 
 it was to be master of Henriksberg. But he 
 had not sat there long before a message came 
 from the works that the sick men were worse. 
 He tore down to the main building and went into 
 the hammer smith's room. He did not stop on 
 the threshold, however, like the other two, 
 but stepped up to the sick man as he lay there 
 with a flushed and swollen face terrible to look 
 at. " Do you know what is the matter with
 
 164 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 you ? " he asked the smith. " Smallpox," 
 came the answer ; " and now you must go to 
 the cupboard in the office where the manager 
 keeps his drugs and get me some camphor 
 and salicylic, that is if you dare stop and not 
 run away like the others." 
 
 And Sven had stopped, although, to end 
 with, he had nearly all the workmen down with 
 smallpox. Not a word came from either 
 manager or foreman, and there was not a 
 doctor to be found for sixty miles round. 
 He went round with the old housekeeper and 
 gave the sufferers all the remedies he had. 
 Some died and some got better. But as the 
 epidemic could not go on for ever, they saw 
 the end of it at last. Then everything fell back 
 into the usual routine. The foreman enjoyed 
 himself for five months, and then came back, 
 whilst the manager took a good half-year to 
 buy in his coal before he, too, made his appear- 
 ance again. Then the apprentice lad had to 
 sweep out the office and catch bleak in the 
 stream as he had done before. 
 
 But although the Henriksberg works lie in 
 an out-of-the-way place enough, the story crept 
 out and spread far and wide. So one day, the 
 master, Herr Altringer, came on a visit. Not 
 a word did he say of the matter either to the 
 manager or the foreman, but simply asked 
 how young Liliecrona was getting on. The 
 manager gave him a very good character. He 
 believed the lad would make a fine engineer 
 if only he would show a little more interest 
 in the work. He was not without ability, but
 
 . The Smith from Henriksberg 165 
 
 inclined to go about dreaming, as though 
 nothing in the business was any concern of his. 
 Herr Altringer asked them to send him to the 
 office, and when he came, he looked him 
 straight in the eyes and asked why he had not 
 run away like the others when the smallpox 
 came. 
 
 Sven answered never a word, only flushed 
 up as though that was the very worst question 
 he could ask. " Weren't you afraid ? ' " Well, 
 yes, I was." " Did you think you were re- 
 sponsible for the works ? " " No, not that/' 
 But at last Herr Altringer got at the truth. 
 Sven had stopped because the manager's violin 
 had been left hanging on the office wall, and he 
 had been able to play on it every day whilst 
 he was alone. "I see/' said Altringer; "so 
 you like playing the fiddle. We'll ask the 
 manager to lend you his violin once again, and 
 you shall play us a tune." 
 
 And Sven was not afraid of that. He tuned 
 up and played a simple little air that he had 
 learnt from the smiths. At first Herr Altringer 
 laughed, but he soon grew serious when he 
 noticed that the lad put something into his 
 music that made the poor old fiddle sing in 
 quite another way. " See now," he said, " to- 
 morrow you shall come with me. You shall 
 go to Stockholm and learn to play the violin." 
 
 Maia Lisa thought it a charming story, but 
 there was just one thing that worried her. Why 
 was he back again now in Henriksberg ? 
 Hadn't he been successful in Stockholm ? 
 
 Successful, yes indeed. For five years he had
 
 1 66 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 studied there until he was a perfect master of 
 his art, or at least had learnt so much that no 
 one in the country could teach him any more. 
 Herr Altringer was pleased with him, and 
 wondered if he should send him abroad so that 
 he might be equal with the very best. 
 
 But three years ago Sven had come over quite 
 unexpectedly to Ekeby to ask Herr Altringer 
 if he had a foreman's place empty in any one 
 of his many ironworks. " Well, it's not im- 
 possible," said Altringer. " Have you a friend 
 that you want to put in ? " No ; Sven wanted 
 to get the post for himself. He had been in 
 ironworks so many years that he thought he 
 could fill a foreman's place. " And how about 
 the music ? " It was all over with the music. 
 He did not think he would ever touch a bow 
 again. 
 
 Altringer looked at him more closely. Sven 
 had always had a touch of sadness in his eyes, 
 but now his whole body was the very picture 
 of grief. " I see something serious has hap- 
 pened," said Herr Altringer. " You must tell 
 me what it is, for just as you came into the 
 office I was thinking over my plan of letting 
 you go abroad." 
 
 Sven could scarcely answer. He stood biting 
 his lip and fighting hard to steady his voice. 
 " Have you not heard, sir, what happened 
 when I last played ? " No ; Altringer had 
 heard nothing; and Sven had to tell what it 
 was. There had been a ball in a great room 
 down at Naset, and Sven had been among the 
 guests. But they had only had an old, worn-
 
 The Smith from Henriksberg 167 
 
 out piano, so that there was no life nor spirit 
 in the dancing. Then Sven took out his fiddle 
 and it was a different matter at once. Young 
 and old stepped out, and every time he stopped 
 they clapped their hands and stamped as they 
 called to him to begin again. But what a 
 terrible ending to it all ! One of the daughters 
 of the house had danced too violently. In the 
 very middle of the wildest dance she had clung 
 to her partner's arm and then sunk on to the 
 floor. And she had never risen again. She was 
 dead. 
 
 Altringer understood, of course, what a 
 heavy blow that was, but he did not think a 
 young man's career ought to be ruined for such 
 a reason. " You will get over that," he said. 
 " It was a misfortune that might have hap- 
 pened to anyone, and in my opinion her partner 
 who kept her dancing was most to blame." 
 "No," said Sven; "it was I who made her 
 dance. I played for no one but her all the 
 evening. It was beautiful to see her, for she 
 was as quick and light as the flames of a blazing 
 fire. She danced for me and I played for 
 her." 
 
 Altringer only shrugged his shoulders. " You 
 know that's just nonsense," he said. " Perhaps 
 it is no wonder you feel like that so short a time 
 after it has happened, but next week when I 
 send you abroad it will pass." 
 
 " No, sir, it will not pass. Wherever you 
 may send me, I can never forget that I have 
 played a living mortal to death." 
 
 Altringer looked at him once more. " Were
 
 1 68 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 you in love with her ? " " Yes," answered 
 Sven. " That very evening I had asked her to 
 be my wife." 
 
 Not another word did Altringer say to urge 
 him to go abroad. " You shall be foreman in 
 Henriksberg until you have forgotten," he 
 said. " I do not think you know all that is 
 needed to fill the post, but you can learn ; and 
 I know, too, that I can rely upon you." And 
 this was how it came to pass that Sven Lilie- 
 crona had given up his violin and become a 
 foreman of ironworks. Maia Lisa had listened 
 in dead silence without once interrupting the 
 speaker. How strange it was, she thought, that 
 she was so soon to see the man who had loved 
 so deeply and gone through such sorrow. For 
 a long time she could not say a word, but sud- 
 denly she turned to Pastor Liliecrona and asked 
 if his brother was dark. 
 
 Dark, yes that he was, dark as night. 
 
 The moment she had asked she thought what 
 a very foolish question it was. But all the time 
 that Pastor Liliecrona was speaking of his 
 brother she had been wondering if he had 
 looked like the tall dark smith from Henriks- 
 berg. Hadn't he just the same depths of 
 sorrow in his eyes ? Why, she could not think, 
 but somehow in her thoughts the two had 
 melted into one and the same. 
 
 And even now whilst the smith was standing 
 away by the cupboard playing his gay polka 
 tunes she found it hard not to think that he 
 was the man who had gone through all she had 
 just been hearing about.
 
 The Smith from Henriksberg 169 
 
 He had driven up whilst Liliecrona and she 
 were still walking outside, just when the shadows 
 were getting so dark that they were beginning 
 to speak of going in, and the sledge passed so 
 quickly that they had not been able to see who 
 was in it. Pastor Liliecrona had thought it was 
 his brother from Henriksberg come at last, 
 whilst Maia Lisa fancied she had seen the dark 
 smith sitting in the sledge although she did not 
 say so. 
 
 But she was right enough ! When they turned 
 back to the house the innkeeper was standing 
 on the steps and told them that a man had come 
 from Henriksberg with a message that the fore- 
 man could not meet his brother in Svanskog 
 that day. He had the letter with him in the 
 stable where he was putting up his horse, if the 
 Pastor would like to see him. Pastor Liliecrona 
 went down to the stable and Maia Lisa joined 
 her Aunt in the great living-room. She was 
 already sitting there with her maids in front 
 of the great log-fire, busy with her spinning. 
 Maia Lisa sat down at her aunt's side and handed 
 her the rolags. The master and men came in 
 almost directly afterwards with their wood- 
 work and joined the circle round the fire. 
 Last of all, in came Pastor Liliecrona and 
 the smith with him. They were going on to 
 Henriksberg that evening, but not until the 
 horse had had a rest. The Pastor chose a 
 place as near Maia Lisa as possible, but the 
 smith sat down where the shadows lay darkest, 
 as far away as he could. And it was a con- 
 tinual buzz of gossip, joking and telling of
 
 170 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 tales until Fru Margreta turned to the smith 
 and asked if he would not play them a tune or 
 two. She had been told that he had a turn for 
 music. He had not needed much asking either. 
 The master lent him his old squeaking fiddle, 
 and there he stood fiddling out polkas and old 
 dance tunes neither better nor worse than any 
 ordinary peasant player. Maia Lisa could not 
 help a little feeling of disappointment. The 
 reason, no doubt, was that she was still half 
 spellbound and could not distinguish between 
 fact and fancy. All evening her thoughts had 
 been busy with the man who had played the 
 death-dance for his heart's love, and she saw 
 only him in the shape of the smith. She had 
 certainly expected that he, too, would have 
 had a magic in his bow, strong and terrible 
 enough to play mortals to their death. 
 
 In spite of all, however, she could not shake 
 off her dream, and time after time she caught 
 herself looking at the smith and wondering 
 if he ever thought of anyone but the love he 
 had lost. The smith had thrown off his stiff 
 close-fitting peasant coat of fur that he might 
 move his arms more freely, and now in one of 
 those quick stolen glances that she cast at him 
 she noticed a great, bright silver coin fastened 
 to the watch-chain hanging from his pocket. 
 Maia Lisa gave a little start. Was that the silver 
 thaler she had sent him ? Smiths were always 
 so poor. How did he manage to possess a 
 watch ? Had the foreman given it to him by 
 any chance ? And even if he had, whatever 
 had put it into his head to go about with a silver
 
 The Smith from Henriksberg 171 
 
 thaler hanging to no purpose at the end of his 
 watch-chain ? Of course, he was not a 
 
 She was amazed at herself that she kept her 
 seat and did not jump up and cry out when, in 
 a flash, she understood the whole matter. 
 
 Of course, it was Sven Liliecrona standing 
 there and no other; the very man who had 
 played his heart's love to her death. In a 
 single moment she was so sure of this that she 
 could have found it in her heart to go up to him 
 and beg him to keep up the disguise no longer. 
 She knew who he was. Why he had come to 
 Lobyn as a simple peasant a couple of weeks 
 ago she could not imagine. Perhaps he had 
 put on the dress as the most convenient when 
 he was going to peasant houses. And when 
 no one had recognised him but taken him for 
 a smith he had not undeceived them. Perhaps 
 he had not liked to say who he was when he 
 arrived in the very middle of the wedding. 
 
 She left off picking up the rolags and covered 
 her eyes with her hands. Why had he come 
 in disguise again to-day ? She did not need 
 to puzzle very long over this ; in a moment 
 everything was clear. This time he had a clear 
 purpose in view, he wanted her and his 
 brother . . . 
 
 It was strange and yet so pleasant to feel 
 that he meant them to have a chance of seeing 
 and talking to one another. No doubt it was 
 after he had got the silver thaler from her 
 yesterday evening that he had sent a speedy 
 messenger ski-ing over the snow to entice his 
 brother down to Svanskog. And he had let
 
 172 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 him wait all day for him, and when he did come 
 late in the evening he had come as a smith. He 
 had no wish to show himself. She was not to 
 think of anyone else but his brother. And 
 there he stood playing peasant polkas in peasant 
 style to amuse peasant folk ! He had, indeed, 
 once said that he would never use a bow again, 
 but no doubt he did not look upon this as violin 
 playing. 
 
 And it was not her brain that was telling 
 her all this. She felt she could read his inmost 
 thoughts and she scarcely knew whether to 
 smile or weep at what she read. One thing was 
 certain, that he did not dislike her since he had 
 brought about this meeting between her and 
 his brother. Or had he only been sorry for her 
 because she had such a hard life at home ? He 
 had wanted to get a wise kind friend who could 
 take her away from every hardship. 
 
 Ay, he had a great sorrow himself that he 
 could never get away from ! His love was dead 
 and he would never forget her. Maia Lisa for 
 him was only a poor girl whom he had found 
 sitting crying in the chimney-corner and whom 
 he wanted to help to honour and happiness. 
 She was obliged to lift her head and look at the 
 others, and it was all she could do to keep back 
 her tears when she thought how he asked 
 nothing of life for himself. 
 
 But just as she lifted her eyes and when lost 
 in thoughts and dreams both of sorrow and joy 
 she was far, far away from her everyday trials, 
 the latch was pulled once more and someone 
 put in her head.
 
 The Smith from Henriksberg 173 
 
 She stared at the new-comer as at a stranger 
 and went not a step to meet her. Her Aunt 
 pushed back her spinning-wheel and got up, 
 but Maia Lisa sat motionless, still lost in 
 dreams. She scarcely knew who the stranger 
 was even when she heard a hoarse voice say 
 that she had come with Long-Bengt to fetch 
 Maia Lisa home, nor when Fru Margreta an- 
 swered that surely the Pastor's wife was not 
 in too great a hurry to take off her coat and have 
 a little supper before she went home again.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 ENSIGN ORNECLOU 
 
 r I ^HE new mistress of Lovdala Parsonage 
 L had a habit of sending messages and small 
 commissions by anyone, no matter who it might 
 be. Whether the passer-by was peasant or not, 
 she used to stand on the kitchen steps and wave 
 and call until he stopped. Then it fell to the 
 lot of either Maia Lisa or Little-Maid to rush 
 down the road and beg the travellers to be good 
 enough to take with them a tub of butter that 
 Fru Raklitz wanted to sell to the Captain at 
 Berga or to return a weaving-reed that she had 
 borrowed from old Fru Moreus. Sometimes 
 she contrived to ask a favour which was both 
 tiresome and difficult, so that soon people were 
 really afraid to pass Lovdala. It wasn't pleasant 
 to say "no" to the Pastor's wife, and yet 
 quite impossible to slip past without being seen. 
 
 However it might be, she certainly had an un- 
 usual talent for getting folk to run her errands. 
 
 She was even able to press such a good-for- 
 nothing dandy as Orneclou into her service. 
 There had not seemed much prospect of any 
 friendship between the Ensign and the Pastor's 
 wife when he visited Lovdala in the last week 
 of January, the time when he was in the habit 
 
 174
 
 Ensign Orneclou 175 
 
 of coming for a week or a fortnight. But Fru 
 Raklitz said as soon as he came that she would 
 see the lazy-bones did not stay there long. She 
 had just got the work in full swing again after 
 all the Christmas festivities, and she wasn't 
 going to harbour any visitor who needed wait- 
 ing on. 
 
 And then, too, it was not as if he came by 
 himself, for poor as he was, he always drove his 
 own sledge, and the horse needed food and 
 service no less than his master. Fru Raklitz 
 did all she could to make him uncomfortable. To 
 begin with, she told the housemaid to carry his 
 heavy bag where he kept his wigs and his curling 
 tongs up to the poorest spare room. Orneclou 
 was accustomed to the best; where there was 
 a fine curtained bed with a feather bolster and 
 soft down pillows, but he had never looked so 
 pleased with that as he did now when he was 
 shown into the other. 
 
 " If I haven't always wanted to sleep here ! " 
 he said. This was the room they called the 
 " night quarters," for there anyone who came 
 asking for a night's lodging got a bed, no matter 
 who it was. Here he could be nearly certain of 
 having a companion every night, and he slept 
 so badly that he really needed someone to talk 
 to. Besides, it was rather oppressive in the 
 great four-poster in the other room. He would 
 much rather lie on this narrow straw mattress. 
 And best of all there was neither fireplace nor 
 stove, but the room was warmed from the great 
 kitchen chimney running up the wall and half 
 filling the room. Just think no fumes, no
 
 176 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 smoke, but a comfortable, even temperature 
 day and night ! 
 
 And so he went on as long as the housemaid 
 was in the room. But no one can tell what he 
 did when she had gone. It was a cold day and 
 none too warm in the unheated room where he 
 had to change his clothes and make himself 
 smart. But his cheeks had such rosy tints and 
 his eyebrows were so delicately pencilled when 
 he came to midday dinner that no one would 
 have dreamt that he had done the whole opera- 
 tion with fingers numb with cold. The Pastor's 
 wife knew well enough that there never was 
 a bigger gourmand than Orneclou, and that not 
 only did he want good food, but he liked to eat 
 it in a grand room served on fine damask and 
 shining silver. She knew, too, that he had 
 before always dined in the best room, and that 
 they had made things as festive for him as 
 possible; but now, when she wished to put 
 a speedy end to his visit, she set the dinner in 
 the kitchen parlour in very homely fashion, and 
 offered nothing more than black puddings and 
 cabbage soup. 
 
 Orneclou was in his most amiable mood and 
 sat all dinner-time complimenting the Pastor 
 on his cleverness in marrying again. Did he 
 remember what a life the old rural dean of 
 Sjoskoga had had when he had been left a 
 widower for so many years ? When the En- 
 sign had last called on him the dining-room had 
 not been scoured and they had had to dine in one 
 of the bedrooms. There wasn't a clean table- 
 cloth in the house, but stains on every one, and
 
 Ensign Orneclou 177 
 
 the maids were too idle to cook anything but 
 cabbage soup, which was made on Sunday 
 and came back day after day and even that 
 they had to be thankful to get. But his dear 
 old friend in Lovdala had contrived to get some- 
 thing very different. It was no easy matter to 
 find such a good housekeeper as his wife. He 
 had heard such accounts of her skill that he had 
 wondered very much what delicacies he would 
 taste on his next visit to the Parsonage. And 
 not only that, but what an advantage for Maia 
 Lisa to learn how a table ought to be laid and 
 a dinner served from someone who knew 
 exactly how these things were done in the best 
 society. 
 
 Fine gentleman Orneclou certainly had a 
 special gift for saying nasty things, and no 
 doubt they did their work, but Anna Maria 
 Raklitz was not a woman to be turned from her 
 purpose by a couple of sharp words, so she 
 said in her harsh voice : "If Ensign Orneclou 
 was not comfortable in the widower's house, I 
 suppose he could have left and gone his 
 way." 
 
 Then Orneclou saw that there would be no 
 dining in the best parlour nor sleeping in the 
 proper bedroom unless he chose another plan 
 of attack. He would, however, have submitted 
 if there had not been one other reason as well 
 for feeling injured. It was remarkable that a 
 woman should want to drive him away. That 
 had never happened to him before, and he 
 couldn't get over it. Certainly he was a good 
 bit on the wrong side of forty, but all the same 
 
 N
 
 178 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 he was a handsome man, and no woman 
 had ever yet been able to withstand his 
 charms. 
 
 This gave the Ensign pause. For an hour 
 or two he sat playing chess with the Pastor, 
 but when the latter went out in the dusk 
 to talk over farm matters with Long-Bengt, 
 the Ensign went into the sitting-room with the 
 intention of chatting to the Pastor's wife. 
 She was sitting bolt upright by the window, 
 making use of what little light was left to finish 
 mending a pair of stockings. So Orneclou 
 began somewhat cautiously to explain that he 
 felt he was growing old and with increasing 
 years came more wisdom than in youth. Young 
 girls were, one and all, unstable and frivolous, 
 but now that he had determined to give up a 
 butterfly existence he wondered if Cousin as 
 an old friend of her husband's he hoped he 
 might call her Cousin knew any somewhat 
 older lady not too old, of course, but well on 
 in the twenties who was both domesticated 
 and discreet and might be willing to take a poor 
 man like himself. 
 
 The Pastor's wife never stirred. In the dim 
 light, it was not easy to see the expression on her 
 face, but Orneclou fancied a slight smile passed 
 over her thin lips. Very likely she was sitting 
 there making a fool of him. What a terrible 
 creature Lyselius had married to be sure ! Why, 
 as a rule, there was no surer way to an elderly 
 lady's heart than to ask her to help in a little 
 match-making. Orneclou had never in his life 
 talked to a woman about anything but love or
 
 Ensign Orneclou 179 
 
 marriage, and not a word could he say on any 
 other subject. So he began again with the same 
 thing, only now he directly contradicted what he 
 had said before. 
 
 "I see plainly, Cousin," he went on, " that 
 you have heard so much about me that you 
 do not believe I should be content with a wife 
 no longer beautiful nor young either. No 
 doubt you think I should like her to be sensible 
 and clever, and have these other qualities as 
 well. And I think that Maia Lisa Lyselius, 
 
 since Cousin has taken her training in hand " 
 
 Orneclou paused discreetly to see if he might 
 venture farther on the same road or if he was 
 only on a wild-goose chase. The twilight grew 
 darker and darker, so that it was more and more 
 difficult to see the expression on the face of his 
 uncommunicative listener, but he almost fancied 
 that she was slyly smiling to herself. 
 
 " Of course, the idea is for Maia Lisa to marry 
 a pastor, and live and rule here in Lovdala/' 
 continued Orneclou ; " and there is, of course, 
 a good deal to be said for such a plan. Lyselius 
 will manage to choose for her some fine, capable 
 man who can do something besides stand in a 
 pulpit, and can cultivate land as well as he can 
 himself. Now such a husband as myself would 
 need a helping hand at every turn from his 
 mother-in-law, which might perhaps be very 
 troublesome. No doubt, Cousin, you have 
 arranged matters so that when you are left a 
 widow and between ourselves it is remarkable 
 how Lyselius has failed the last year you may 
 be able to have a room for yourself like Fru
 
 180 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 Beata Spaak and not have to trouble about 
 anything/' 
 
 The Pastor's wife sat bolt upright, drawing 
 her needle in and out. But now as she turned 
 to the window to see better, he noticed she was 
 laughing outright. 
 
 Orneclou began to think that nothing in the 
 world would have any effect on her, so he got 
 up to go to his room to curl his wig or freshen up 
 his shirt frill as was his custom when he was 
 annoyed. But now the Pastor's wife turned and 
 asked him : " Ensign, you have been about 
 everywhere, do you happen to know a certain 
 Liliecrona, pastor of Finnerud ? " 
 
 The Ensign started. It seemed almost as 
 though his words about a son-in-law had had 
 some effect. Perhaps there had been some 
 thought of Liliecrona, and what he said might 
 have raised a doubt as to whether he were 
 quite suitable. 
 
 " Olle Liliecrona," he repeated. " Why, of 
 course I know him. I have stayed with him 
 up in Finnerud. He is a splendid fellow, under- 
 stands everything, and has taught the men and 
 women as well all kinds of handicraft." 
 
 " I wonder if he really has an eye on Maia 
 Lisa," continued the Past or 's wife very candidly. 
 " We hear nothing but praise of him." 
 
 Her words betokened only motherly interest, 
 but Orneclou fancied he heard in her tone a 
 suggestion that she would have no objection to 
 hearing a little scandal about this new lover. 
 
 " Of course, Cousin," replied Orneclou, " you 
 know the world well enough to make allowance
 
 Ensign Orneclou 181 
 
 for youth, and you must remember what a 
 lonely life he has had up there amongst the 
 Finns. But there is, of course, no denying 
 that Liliecrona has had some sort of entangle- 
 ment for a good many years now. Of course, it 
 can easily be put right without Maia Lisa's 
 hearing a word about the matter." 
 
 The darkness had at last compelled the 
 Pastor's wife to put down her darning ; she 
 did not, however, light a candle on that account, 
 but picked up her knitting, which she could 
 manage without looking at it at all. Her pins 
 worked quickly and quietly, but when Orneclou 
 spoke of an entanglement they fairly rattled. 
 Her voice sounded completely changed as she 
 exclaimed : " What do you say, Ensign ? 
 
 Surely, it is impossible for a pastor ? How 
 
 can the bishop ? " 
 
 " You do not realise, Cousin, how far it is 
 to Finnerud. I must tell you I don't believe 
 anyone knows a thing about it, not even his 
 nearest relatives. It was by the merest chance 
 I discovered it, and, of course, I have never 
 spoken of it until now, when I see that my 
 duty to a tender mother's anxiety compels me 
 to disclose my doubts." 
 
 Again the pins rattled violently. " But 
 perhaps there is no truth in it either," she 
 returned, " everyone is slandered sometimes." 
 
 Orneclou cleared his throat. " You force me 
 to tell more than I wanted. But, as I said, I 
 consider it my duty to give you a clear insight 
 into the business. I assure you, Cousin, that 
 I had no idea how things were until my last
 
 1 82 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 visit to Liliecrona shortly before Christmas. 
 He was not at home when I came, but his 
 housekeeper welcomed me and begged me to 
 wait for her master. Well, it was a long time 
 before he returned and in the meantime I 
 began to chat with the woman. In her way she 
 was really a superb creature, not Finnish by 
 extraction, but from the ' Swedish Land/ as 
 the Finns say, and wonderfully capable too. 
 I have always admired the unwearying energy 
 with which she made his life up there hi the 
 Finn quarters endurable for poor Liliecrona. 
 Well, there we sat and talked. You understand, 
 Cousin. She is not of the better class, really 
 only a peasant girl, but very sensible in every- 
 thing she says. We had, however, not exchanged 
 many words before I noticed that there was 
 something on her mind. I spoke kindly you 
 know, Cousin, that I understand women's 
 ways and she gained confidence in me. She 
 asked me straight out what I thought would 
 happen if Liliecrona got the fine living. Eight 
 years ago, when she first came up there, he 
 had promised to marry her as soon as he got a 
 better post. But she was afraid now that 
 Sjoskoga was far too large. Suppose Liliecrona 
 should think she was not grand enough to be 
 the wife of a rural dean ! 
 
 " Now, Cousin, you can understand that she 
 was in despair. I could do nothing but calm 
 her, as best I might, and promise to try to 
 influence Liliecrona in his plans. Next day I 
 told him quite plainly that I had discovered 
 his entanglement, and asked him why he
 
 Ensign Orneclou 183 
 
 hadn't married at once. He answered quite 
 frankly that he had been too poor. If he had 
 married his maid, as he said, then she would 
 have been Fru Liliecrona, and he would have 
 had to keep another maid to wait on her. 
 ' Then, my friend/ he added, ' you may be 
 sure she would have stopped milking the cows 
 and helping Peterkin with the field work. But 
 marry I shall, of course, as soon as I see my 
 way clear. ' I suggested when he got to S j oskoga. 
 . . . ' Oh, Sj oskoga,' he replied, ' I am not 
 going there. I mean to refuse it/ ' 
 
 Orneclou stopped. He could scarcely see 
 the Pastor's wife in the darkness, nor could he 
 hear her pins rattling either. He felt almost 
 terrified. Perhaps after all he had made a 
 mistake, or, at any rate, acted very unwisely. 
 
 " Now, Cousin, I have told you all I know," 
 he began once more, " and I must beg you not 
 to attach too much importance to it. In any 
 case there is not a more promising young 
 pastor in the whole diocese than Liliecrona. 
 Think how, with all his talents, he has sacrificed 
 himself for those poor Finn peasants and lived 
 in poverty these last eleven years. I must say 
 he is a hero, every bit as much as that Corsican 
 people are making such a fuss about just 
 now." 
 
 But the silence continued. Orneclou grew 
 more and more gloomy. He was beginning 
 once more to sing Liliecrona's praises when the 
 Pastor's wife got up and said with a very 
 different voice : "I hear Lyselius coming in. 
 And now, Cousin Orneclou, you must go and
 
 184 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 have a talk with him instead of sitting here in 
 the dark with me. He is only too glad to get 
 such an old friend as you to himself for a little 
 while." 
 
 And after that Fru Raklitz entirely changed 
 towards Orneclou. He had his meals in the 
 fine dining-room, his bed in the best spare room, 
 and such delicacies were put before him as 
 not even the Pastor himself had ever tasted. 
 Nor was he much astonished. Did he not know 
 of old that no woman could withstand him 
 when he took so much trouble as he had done 
 with old Raklitz ? Yet it did strike him as a 
 little strange until he had reasoned out that 
 most certainly she had thought over his offer 
 and intended to accept him as a son-in-law. 
 Now Orneclou had not been much in earnest 
 with his proposal. But, after all, why not ? 
 It wouldn't be so much amiss to get Maia Lisa 
 Lyselius. And that he could get her was as 
 clear as the day. The mother-in-law was so 
 taken with him that she didn't know how to do 
 enough for him. 
 
 But before he bound himself for good, he 
 thought he ought to make a tour round Varm- 
 land and visit all the good old places whose 
 hospitality he had once enjoyed. Once he 
 was married and had a wife and house he must, 
 of course, stay at home. He certainly could 
 not stay at Lovdala this time so long as he 
 generally did, but he must move on as quickly 
 as possible, only, of course, that he might 
 come back so much the sooner. When he ex- 
 plained next morning that he must go he could
 
 Ensign Orneclou 185 
 
 see that both the Pastor's wife and daughter 
 were sorry. Indeed, they wished to persuade 
 him to stay, but he stood firm. He must 
 without fail be in Karlstad before evening. He 
 did not, of course, say in so many words that 
 he was only going to come back again and be 
 master of the house, but that was quite under- 
 stood ! The Pastor's wife, who was generally 
 accounted a woman of more than ordinary 
 ability, knew well enough what his plans 
 were. He felt how he longed to be back even 
 before he had gone. He would be comfortable 
 here without a doubt. 
 
 Just as he was preparing to put on his furs 
 the Pastor's wife came and asked if he could 
 possibly do her a favour. Her ladyship in 
 Lokene had asked her to sell her a cock and she 
 wondered if it would trouble him too much to 
 take it with him. If he was bound for Karlstad 
 he would pass Lokene on his way. 
 
 The Ensign said "yes" at once, and said it 
 gladly too, for not only was he pleased to do 
 his future mother-in-law a favour, but he was 
 very willing to have an excuse for looking in at 
 Lokene and getting a meal there. 
 
 But when he said "yes" he certainly had no 
 idea that it was a live cock he was to take with 
 him. For he had such a terribly little sledge, 
 there was nothing for it but to put the box 
 with the cock in it on to the seat and take his 
 own place on the back step. However, he 
 put a good face on it to the end ; at all costs he 
 must show old Raklitz that she would never 
 get a more polite and obliging son-in-law than
 
 1 86 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 he was. So off he started in splendid bright 
 January weather with the sun shining like the 
 end of March and no cold to speak of. He felt 
 quite a different man from when he came 
 yesterday. Lovdala and Maia Lisa ! To own 
 and rule them both ! To have a home of his 
 own where he could receive his friend if he 
 wished ! That, indeed, was quite another 
 matter than going from house to house all the 
 year round and never being quite sure what 
 sort of welcome awaited him. 
 
 It was quick travelling along the good road, 
 and Orneclou was soon in Lobyn. Here he 
 met an old peasant with a cartload of straw, 
 no other than Biorn Hindriksson himself. " A 
 rich and worthy man Biorn Hindriksson," he 
 said to himself as he pulled the reins to stop and 
 have a word with him. He was a near neigh- 
 bour at Lovdala, and since Orneclou was soon 
 to be master there, it would be well to make a 
 friend of him. 
 
 But what now ? Whatever was it crowing in 
 his ear just as he stopped ? He all but fell 
 off the narrow step in his fright, for he had 
 forgotten all about the cock. His horse Fingal 
 did not turn a hair. He had been through so 
 much that nothing in the world could frighten 
 him. But Biorn Hindriksson's Brownie was 
 not so hardened to surprises. Off he tore and 
 tipped the whole cartload into the ditch. 
 
 This was no good beginning to friendship, 
 and in his annoyance Orneclou cracked his 
 whip over Fingal's back. No sooner had the 
 sledge started than the cock held his peace.
 
 Ensign Orneclou 187 
 
 Again he went on at a good pace, and again 
 his thoughts turned to Maia Lisa. She was 
 beautiful, not more than seventeen years old, 
 and the owner of half Lovdala. A piece of 
 good luck like that ought to fall to a man like 
 himself who was no longer in his first youth ! 
 
 Again there was someone coming along the 
 road, this time a gentleman and lady on horse- 
 back. It could surely be no other than the 
 Countess Dohna out for a ride in this direction. 
 A fine woman this dowager Countess of Borg ! 
 And it was always pleasant to meet a lady who 
 could ride so well. It was only a pity she 
 should have with her the little black-whiskered 
 foreigner whom she had taken under her 
 wing. 
 
 Orneclou stopped, got down from the step 
 and stood in a posture of admiration, hat in 
 hand. Then the cock crew. The Countess 
 tightened her reins and looked round in sur- 
 prise. Where did the noise come from ? How 
 could a cock get on to the high-road so far 
 from any dwelling ? Perhaps she might never 
 have found out if the creature hadn't crowed 
 again. But then she understood, and, like the 
 intriguing piece of goods she was, she set to 
 work to talk to Orneclou and keep him standing 
 still on the high-road for a full three minutes. 
 And on the cock went, crowing between every 
 word they said ! 
 
 And dandy Orneclou had to endure this. 
 The finest gentleman in Varmland had to sub- 
 mit to be made ridiculous in this way. The 
 Countess sat there doing nothing but talk as
 
 1 88 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 if she never heard the cock, and that though 
 every other word was drowned in a shrill 
 crow. But Orneclou was in such anguish that 
 the cold sweat drops stood on his brow. At 
 last he could stand it no longer but jumped 
 on to the sledge and off he drove. In an instant 
 the cock stopped, but Orneclou heard instead 
 the Countess's clear rippling laugh. It followed 
 him beyond the parish, followed him to the 
 end of his journey, followed him all through 
 life, for he could never forget it. 
 
 What a temptation it was to lift the lid and 
 let the cock go, but he thought of Maia Lisa 
 and Lovdala and made up his mind to endure. 
 It would not do to get into his mother-in- 
 law's black books, and once past Svartsjo 
 Church the road went through desolate forest 
 where he thought he would meet no one. 
 
 But as ill-luck would have it, the weather 
 was too fine for that. Everyone seemed to 
 be seized with a desire to choose that very day 
 for a long drive. So it was not long before the 
 Ensign chanced to meet the head of his regiment. 
 It is true, Orneclou had long since left the 
 service, but still he prided himself on such 
 dignity and propriety of manner as beseems a 
 man who has trodden the field of glory. But 
 just as he drew himself up for a stiff military 
 salute the cock must needs crow again. It 
 really was enough to drive a man desperate ! 
 One meeting after another spoilt, nothing but 
 misfortune upon misfortune ! 
 
 Last of all far away on the Sundgard hills he 
 met the new owner of the Biorn ironworks,
 
 Ensign Orneclou 189 
 
 Melchior Sinclaire. That was the last straw, the 
 worst luck of all, for people had nicknamed 
 Sinclaire " The Cock," because he had such a 
 loud voice, and was so perky and always ready 
 to quarrel and fight. Sinclaire knew of his 
 nickname, and did not particularly care for 
 it ; indeed, it was as much as anyone's life 
 was worth to speak of hens or eggs when he 
 was anywhere near. In his distress Orneclou 
 decided not to stop and speak, but to drive 
 past Sinclaire as fast as Fingal's legs could go. 
 But whatever he did went wrong to-day. 
 The ironmaster had been to Karlstad and 
 bought a new set of harness bells, whose merry 
 music so cheered up chanticleer that he began 
 to crow just as they passed. Orneclou stood 
 up, flourished his whip and gave Fingal a smart 
 stroke on the loins. At all costs he must get 
 away as quickly as possible. But he was not 
 to get off so easily. Melchior Sinclaire was 
 furious. He had not caught sight of the box 
 with the cock in it, but he had recognised 
 Orneclou and thought he had crowed as he 
 passed just on purpose to annoy him. He 
 whipped up his horse and tore after Orneclou 
 to punish him. 
 
 The Ensign heard him coming and thought 
 it would be best to stop and explain. But once 
 more the cock awoke the echoes with his shrill 
 note, and Sinclaire, thinking it was Orneclou, 
 grew so furious that he roared like a great wild 
 beast. Orneclou dared not wait for him, but 
 beat a retreat, and for a couple of minutes 
 there was a wild race over the Sundgard hills.
 
 190 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 But the ironmaster had a good steed, and 
 Fingal was old and worn out, so it was evident 
 that the Ensign would soon be caught. And 
 when he looked round he noticed that his 
 enemy was brandishing his whip as high as 
 he could to strike him over the head. 
 
 Then he said good-bye to all his hopes of 
 Maia Lisa and Lovdala. He bent forward, 
 lifted up the box and flung it straight in front 
 of Melchior Sinclaire. And so he got away, 
 or else the great fellow would certainly have 
 killed him, for he was not the man to listen 
 to excuses or explanations when he was angered. 
 
 When the Ensign reached the Ilberg inn he 
 was utterly worn out ; in fact, he thought he 
 would never get over this drive of his. 
 
 He never showed his face again at Lovdala, 
 for this was the most sickening adventure he 
 had ever experienced in all his life. To own and 
 rule indeed ! He couldn't bear even to think 
 of it.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE DAILY ROUND 
 
 YES, the daily work was now in full swing at 
 Lovdala, and every morning and evening 
 the nine spinning-wheels in the kitchen whirred 
 and hummed as loud as any windmill. And in 
 full daylight there was no dawdling either, for 
 the time had to be used for sewing and weaving. 
 For a while it almost seemed as though the 
 Pastor's wife had forgotten that Little-Maid 
 was in the house. She had not set her to work 
 nor given her any duties except to sweep the 
 kitchen-parlour and to keep the fire mended. 
 But on the very day that the Ensign went, 
 Fru Raklitz came to the kitchen door and 
 beckoned to her to come into the best room. 
 Little-Maid got up at once, but she was terrified, 
 almost beyond words, of sitting alone with her 
 mistress. Her feeling towards her was no or- 
 dinary dislike, but something that sent cold 
 shudders down her back every time she set 
 eyes on her. 
 
 Little-Maid had never before been so terrified 
 of any human being, and she had her own 
 ideas as to the reason of it all. For she could 
 never forget that there was something peculiar 
 about the Pastor's wife. No one else had snow- 
 
 191
 
 192 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 white hair with such a young face, and it was 
 not natural either for any female creature to 
 speak with a voice as loud as a roaring torrent, 
 nor would any ordinary mortal be capable of 
 causing so much annoyance and unhappiness. 
 She thought pretty often, too, of what her 
 mother had told her of the Black Lake and the 
 three things that stayed behind when the water 
 dried up. Mamsell Maia Lisa wouldn't hear 
 a word of it, but Little-Maid knew well enough 
 what the third thing was, and that they had 
 had to do with it in Lovdala more than once 
 already. 
 
 If the Pastor's daughter would not talk of it, 
 there were others in the house who could and 
 would. Little-Maid only had to creep away 
 of an evening to the servants' room where 
 Long-Bengt and Old Bengta, his mother, and 
 Merry Maia, his wife, sat gossiping round the 
 fire. Then Old Bengta used to tell how the 
 " water-spirit " of Black Lake felt homeless 
 when everything had dried up, for it was not 
 to be expected that such a fine lady would be 
 content with the poor little Black Lake stream 
 that trickled away from the old bed of the waters, 
 and that she tried at once to sneak into one or 
 other of the houses round. And she had 
 managed to creep in once or twice, but in 
 other places they had guessed who she was 
 and made a clean sweep of her before she 
 succeeded in doing any mischief. 
 
 Merry Maia told a tale of a son of Hen- 
 Ola vius the first Svartsjo pastor, who one 
 spring night had gone down to the Black Lake
 
 The Daily Round 193 
 
 brook and been drowned. It was as plain as 
 daylight that the " water-spirit " had bewitched 
 him, or else he could not possibly have come to 
 grief in a drop of water like that. 
 
 Long-Bengt used to talk of the morning when 
 he and the Vetter-lads had been mowing hay 
 on the South field. The two boys and he had 
 seen in a second who it was coming out of the 
 grass. And all her clothes dripping wet ! Why, 
 that surely was sign enough of what sort of 
 creature she might be ! And her eyes, too, 
 as wild as any troll's ! None of the three had 
 the slightest doubt as to who the present wife 
 of the Svartsjo Pastor really was, and all three 
 were equally sure that they would never see 
 the last of her until she had ruined the Par- 
 sonage and all in it. 
 
 Little-Maid shared their belief, at any rate, 
 in the evenings or when it was dark. In day- 
 light it was harder to think that the homeless 
 "water-spirit" of Svartsjo was really living 
 at Lovdala, and busying herself with spinning 
 and weaving. But even then her doubts were 
 strong enough to make Little-Maid shudder 
 every time she saw her. 
 
 However, there was no help for it ; when the 
 Pastor's wife came to the kitchen door she 
 had to follow her through the next room, 
 where Mamsell Maia Lisa sat embroidering a 
 sheet, into the best parlour, a beautiful, large 
 room, furnished in birchwood with gilt inlays 
 and blue striped carpets on the floor. There 
 were two windows in the room ; in one stood a 
 tall green lily, in the other a little work-table.
 
 194 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 The lid was open, and she could see the many 
 little compartments where lay reels of thread, 
 balls of silk, wax and needle-book, sampler and 
 rolls of ribbon, finger -shields, crochet -hooks, 
 and many another handy little thing. The 
 Pastor's wife showed her everything there was 
 and made her guess what they were used for. 
 Indeed, she was so pleasant with her that she 
 even tried to laugh when the child guessed 
 wrong, although the corners of her mouth looked 
 as if they rebelled against such unusual exercise. 
 The more friendly she became, the more firmly 
 Little-Maid set her mouth, and the more watch- 
 ful grew her bright eyes. Suppose the Pastor's 
 wife was thinking of coaxing her into saying 
 something that might be dangerous for Mamsell 
 Maia Lisa ? 
 
 But there did not seem to be any evil design 
 this time. The Pastor's wife sat down at the 
 work-table and gave Little-Maid a seat at her 
 side. She was to learn to sew now, for the 
 Pastor's wife had promised her mother to give 
 her a good training. To begin with, she showed 
 her how to set about threading a needle. Of 
 course, that is generally a difficult task for 
 small fingers, but Little-Maid passed the thread 
 through the eye at her very first attempt. 
 The Pastor's wife was really amazed at such 
 quick work. If she could manage everything 
 else as easily, they might make a grand sewer 
 of her ! Then the Pastor's wife gave her a 
 little bit of material to practise on, and showed 
 her how to make a knot and push her needle 
 in and out of the cloth. Little-Maid heard her
 
 The Daily Round 195 
 
 instructions in silence, took the piece of stuff, 
 held it over her first finger and made stitch after 
 stitch as though there was nothing difficult in 
 it at all. Well, to be sure ! How astonished 
 Fru Raklitz was ! She had never seen such a 
 thing before. But Little-Maid's gravity could 
 hold out no longer and she shook with laughter. 
 At last the Pastor's wife began to understand. 
 Had Little-Maid learnt to sew before she came 
 to Lovdala ? 
 
 " No," she answered, " not a stitch before 
 I came here." 
 
 " Well, then, someone here must have taught 
 you Mamsell Maia Lisa perhaps ? ' 
 
 Little-Maid was terrified at the mere mention 
 of Mamsell Maia Lisa, and hastened to say 
 that Fru Beata in the brewhouse-room had 
 shown her how. " How glad I am to hear that," 
 said the Pastor's wife. " Who would have 
 thought she could sew with such hands as 
 hers ? " 
 
 "Sew indeed," exclaimed Little-Maid; "why, 
 no one in the house can sew like Fru Beata." 
 
 "Then I'll tell you what we'll do," an- 
 swered Fru Raklitz. " We'll go down now to 
 Fru Beata and thank her for teaching you so 
 well." 
 
 And off she started with Little-Maid, but she 
 did not take the direct road to the brewhouse 
 wing, but went roundabout, away past the 
 stable and dairy. Fru Beata used to sit all 
 day long at a window from which she could see 
 everything coming from the main building, 
 but she had no view on the dairy side. When
 
 196 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 the Pastor's wife and Little-Maid had reached 
 the steep stairway that zigzagged up the out- 
 side wall, Fru Raklitz asked her to run on in 
 front. It was so easy for young legs, and she 
 herself would manage nicely after her. So on 
 ran Little-Maid and clattered up the steps so 
 that no one could hear that anyone else was 
 creeping up as well. 
 
 Fru Beata always sat with her hands folded 
 when the Pastor's wife came to see her, and 
 always used to say how hard it was no longer 
 to be fit for any work, for in her time she too 
 had been a fine worker, although of course 
 not so capable as Anna Maria Raklitz. No 
 doubt the Pastor's wife had been sorry for her. 
 How long the day must be for anyone com- 
 pelled to sit and not able to do a hand's turn 
 in all the world's work ! 
 
 But now, as the Pastor's wife came in, Fru 
 Beata was sitting embroidering a sheet so 
 diligently that her arm rose and fell as quickly 
 as the wings of a bird in full flight. When Fru 
 Beata caught sight of the Pastor's wife she 
 made a movement as if to put away her sewing. 
 But when she noticed that her visitor had 
 already seen it she went on with the work. 
 The Pastor's wife came up to her and was 
 overjoyed beyond words to find her at her 
 work-table. What a good thing her gout was 
 so much better that she could work again, 
 and might she see what she was doing, for she 
 had heard that Fru Beata was such a beautiful 
 sewer that her stitches were as regular as a 
 row of pearls.
 
 The Daily Round 197 
 
 4< But how strange," continued the Pastor's 
 wife, as she bent lower and lower over the piece 
 of work. " I seem to know this sheet. Surely, 
 it is one of the pair that I gave Maia Lisa to-day 
 to finish before to-morrow. Perhaps her Grand- 
 mother is kind enough to help her with one of 
 them. Well, I have no objection to that ; 
 oh, dear, no, not the least, but I think you 
 ought to let me know, so that I may give Maia 
 Lisa enough to do. For if she only has to 
 embroider one sheet instead of two she will 
 indeed lead a life of idleness." 
 
 Fru Beata sat with the work in her hand, quite 
 unable to answer, for her lower jaw, and indeed 
 her whole head, was trembling as though some- 
 one were standing behind her chair shaking her. 
 The Pastor's wife turned to go. She could see 
 Grandmother was busy, so she would not hinder 
 her any longer ; no doubt she did not need 
 company so much now when she was well 
 enough to work. Fru Beata stammered out 
 something about excessive work for young 
 folk spoiling both life and health. 
 
 " You know perfectly well yourself that 
 Maia Lisa has not too much to do to find 
 strength to sit up reading half the night. I do 
 not think young people take any harm from 
 having to work, but what does harm them is 
 to creep behind backs, shuffle out of duties, and 
 learn to deceive." 
 
 With this, off Raklitz went, and Fru Beata 
 could not say a word of defence before the door 
 shut behind her. But the stairway she had 
 to go down was steep and slippery, so that
 
 198 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 there was no making haste. And meantime 
 Fru Beata had managed to regain her self- 
 control, and just as Fru Anna Maria reached 
 the lowest step, the old lady opened the door 
 and " Stepmother ! " she cried after her, in a 
 voice loud enough to be heard all over the 
 house and garden. Nor did she wait for any 
 answer, but went straight back into her room 
 and shot the bolts so that she should not be 
 taken by surprise again. 
 
 The Pastor's wife did not seem in the least 
 concerned as to what Fru Beata had called out. 
 Indeed, she was in excellent spirits, and as she 
 went up the slope to the main building she told 
 Little-Maid very calmly to go into the best 
 parlour and set to her sewing. She herself 
 would come directly she had said a few words 
 to Mamsell Maia Lisa. Little-Maid pressed 
 her lips firmly together and, though she an- 
 swered never a word, she had much the same 
 look about her as that Christmas Day when 
 she had a tussle with the storm-wind. When 
 they reached the porch she did not go into the 
 best parlour, as she had been told, but turned 
 off towards the kitchen door. The Pastor's 
 wife asked where she was off to. Had she not 
 heard that she was to go on with her sewing ? 
 Little-Maid answered in a low voice that it 
 was no longer necessary. 
 
 " Why not necessary ? Do you think you 
 are so clever already that you have nothing 
 more to learn ? ' 
 
 No, Little-Maid had not thought that. But 
 she did not need to learn any more than she
 
 The Daily Round 199 
 
 knew already, because she was going back 
 home to Koltorp. And she stepped up to the 
 Pastor's wife with outstretched hand. She 
 would be glad to thank her and say good-bye 
 at the same time. 
 
 " But, my dear child," said Fru Raklitz, 
 " I really don't understand. Why have you 
 got to leave ? " 
 
 Little-Maid stepped back as if to be out of 
 reach whilst she was giving her explanation. 
 " Mother was nursemaid at Lovdala and loves 
 the Pastor's daughter. And when mother was 
 here last Christmas she told me that if Mamsell 
 Maia Lisa had anything more to put up with 
 on my account, I was not to stop, but go straight 
 home." 
 
 When Little-Maid had said this she drew 
 back along the wall until she reached the 
 corner by the kitchen door, and there she 
 stood and waited for whatever might come. 
 The red spots flared out on Raklitz's cheeks 
 and she stepped up to Little-Maid with up- 
 lifted hand. Little-Maid crouched down with 
 a cold glitter in her bright eyes. She knew she 
 was going to be beaten, but she was so filled 
 with hatred that she did not feel afraid, but 
 was, instead, almost pleased that they had come 
 to open strife. But something happened now 
 that she would never have dreamt of. The 
 Pastor's wife did not even box her ears, but 
 restrained herself at the last moment and said, 
 with a forced smile : 
 
 " My dear child, you look like a cat getting 
 ready to fly at a dog. But you needn't worry.
 
 2oo Liliecrona's Home 
 
 I am not going to beat you for being faithful 
 to those you serve. That is just what I like, 
 and I promise you Maia Lisa shall not hear a 
 word of what I have found out to-day. And 
 now we will both go into the best parlour and 
 never give it another thought." 
 
 Little-Maid felt quite dizzy. There was 
 something under all this that she did not under- 
 stand. But she was so glad to be able to stay 
 at the Parsonage that she did not set her wits 
 to work to guess the riddle. When they were 
 at the work-table, however, there was no sewing 
 done, for the Pastor's wife opened a drawer 
 that was hidden under all the others and took 
 out first an A B C book and then paper, a quill 
 pen and a bottle of ink. Little-Maid thought 
 she was going to examine her in reading and 
 writing. That was not her object, however, 
 but she began to tell how when she was young 
 she was so busy helping her mother with the 
 smaller children that she had never been able 
 to learn to read and write. But since she had 
 married the Pastor she had found it very 
 troublesome not to know how ; so now would 
 Little-Maid be her schoolmistress ? That had 
 been in her mind when she had got her to come 
 to Lovdala at Christmas, but they had not had 
 any spare time till now. Little-Maid was 
 delighted, and at once said she would help her 
 as much as she could. So the matter was 
 settled, and the Pastor's wife begged Little- 
 Maid not to tell anyone that she was teaching 
 her to read. She was afraid folk would laugh 
 at her, so they must pretend that she was
 
 The Daily Round 201 
 
 teaching Little-Maid how to sew, and that was 
 the reason why she was to come into the best 
 parlour for an hour every morning. 
 
 Well, surely there could not be any harm in 
 that. 
 
 And Fru Raklitz said that she was very 
 pleased about it, for Little-Maid must see how 
 unpleasant it was for the wife of a Pastor not 
 to be able to write. She had a letter she wanted 
 to send off that very day if only she could 
 manage it. Perhaps Little-Maid was clever 
 enough to write down on paper the words she 
 dictated. Little-Maid agreed in a moment. 
 She put up the leaf of a table, spread out her 
 paper, drew the cork out of the ink bottle, 
 and sat down to write at her mistress's dicta- 
 tion.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 A SPRING EVENING 
 
 THE Pastor's daughter was out one spring 
 evening taking a walk with Little-Maid. 
 It was an old habit of hers to go out for a little 
 every evening and her stepmother had not 
 forbidden it, only insisted that Little-Maid 
 should go too, for it was not fitting for a young 
 girl of her age to stroll about the country roads 
 alone. She was going southwards as usual, for 
 the road was best in that direction, and so 
 slowly was she walking that Little-Maid found 
 it hard work to put up with such dragging 
 footsteps. One moment she would hurry on 
 in front, and the next lag behind as far as she 
 could, just to have the chance of running 
 herself out of breath to catch up Mamsell Maia 
 Lisa. The road wound up to the wooded 
 heights that bounded the Lovdala lands. As 
 the Pastor's daughter walked on she could not 
 help thinking how strange it was that Little- 
 Maid could find so much to amuse her in the 
 short stretch of road that they tramped over 
 every evening. First there was the echo. Little- 
 Maid ran up the avenue before her to get a 
 little talk with it. She knew it lived a little 
 
 202
 
 A Spring Evening 203 
 
 way up the road, exactly in front of the Lovdala 
 rye-barn, so there she stopped, turned to the 
 barn wall, and began to cry : 
 
 " Echo, echo, tell my fortune ? ' " Tell 
 my fortune/' answered echo. 
 
 " Is my lover a very fine man ? ' "A very 
 fine man," answered echo. 
 
 " And has he very much money ? ' " Very 
 much money," answered echo. 
 
 " Is it all or nothing true ? " " Nothing true," 
 answered echo. 
 
 The Pastor's daughter herself had taught 
 Little-Maid this a few months ago, but all was 
 so different then from now, when she had no 
 strength left to stand joking with echo. 
 
 Little-Maid kept by her side until they reached 
 the small gravel-pit lying to the left of the road, 
 close under the mountain-side. There she left 
 the Pastor's daughter, to jump down the pit 
 and dig amongst the fallen stones in search of 
 -mica. It was only when she had quite lost sight 
 of Mamsell Maia Lisa round the bend of the 
 road that she came racing after her. Then 
 they went on again to the brook. Little-Maid 
 could never understand how the Pastor's 
 daughter could pass on without even stopping 
 to look at its waters rushing in a dark torrent 
 from the forest heights and making fall after 
 fall, each finer than the last, before it reached 
 the level of the road. When it had foamed 
 and roared under the narrow bridge, it wanted 
 to break its bounds again and spread far and 
 wide. But Little-Maid could not put up with 
 that. Down she hurried from the road to dig
 
 204 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 a dam and force the brook back into its old 
 bed again. 
 
 She would have been grateful if Mamsell 
 Maia Lisa would have stopped and helped her. 
 But it was as much as the Pastor's daughter 
 could do to get over even level ground, dragging 
 herself along rather than really walking. Other 
 years she too had been quite ready to dam 
 up the brook, but then, indeed, she had been but 
 a child. Suddenly she stopped, for all at once 
 she realised what had happened to her. She 
 had grown old, she had been robbed of youth 
 and youth's pleasures. The Pastor's daughter 
 went on and on, and Little-Maid was forced 
 to give up the brook and run after her. It was 
 not for long, however, that she kept on the high- 
 road. 
 
 They came to a gate leading into a spinney, 
 where Little-Maid had heard white wood ane- 
 mones were to be found. They were not ready 
 yet, but spring was so far advanced that there 
 was hope of them any day now. Little-Maid 
 opened the gate just to peep in, for she had the 
 idea firmly fixed in her mind that this year 
 she was to be the first to bring white anemones 
 home. As for the Pastor's daughter, she was 
 walking along like an old, old body, not the 
 least anxious to look for spring flowers. 
 
 A few steps farther on Little-Maid had another 
 good friend whom she never failed to call 
 upon. That was the owl that lived in the big 
 hollow birch, the largest tree in all Lovdala. 
 When Little-Maid used to poke a dry twig 
 into his nest, out came his claw to push away
 
 A Spring Evening 205 
 
 the bit of wood, so that she never saw any 
 more of the owl than his great claws. The 
 Pastor's daughter knew all about this, for she 
 too in her time had stopped to tease the owl. 
 Now she could not understand how there had 
 ever been any fun in it at all. 
 
 As soon as they had passed the hollow birch, 
 Little-Maid came running up, and the Pastor's 
 daughter knew she would stick close enough 
 to her for a time. For now they had to go by 
 the mossy old garden wall where there was no 
 lack of ghostly beings. Ah, how lovingly the 
 Pastor's daughter looked back to the time 
 when she too had been afraid of the uncanny 
 headless Pastor who might perchance be seen 
 just here by the stone wall ! 
 
 It was uphill now, and Maia Lisa noticed 
 that she was only going at a snail's pace, and 
 felt as though she would never get to the top. 
 Farther than that she never went ; for there, 
 close to the edge of the road, lay a great granite 
 block called the Rest Stone, and she used to 
 sit down on it for a while. On the front of the 
 stone a little seat had been hollowed out, just 
 big enough for her and Little-Maid to squeeze 
 in together. She closed her eyes and felt too 
 utterly weary to say a word, and Little-Maid 
 kept silence too. Once the Pastor's daughter 
 looked up, for she thought the child had run 
 off again on some new expedition. But no, 
 there she sat, gently stroking a fold of Maia 
 Lisa's dress as it lay across her knee. 
 
 Everything was so hard for the Pastor's 
 daughter, for her who ought to inherit Lovdala
 
 206 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 and all the parish. She thought this poor 
 child was the only one who had not forsaken 
 her. She felt so old and tired just because 
 everyone had left her, and as lonely as one 
 whom death has robbed of all her friends. 
 
 Since she had come back from Svanskog she 
 had not met a single person who wished her 
 well or held out a helping hand. When she 
 first came from there every day she had ex- 
 pected someone to come and set her free from 
 all her troubles. She did not know who it 
 would be or how they would help her, but 
 she felt so many wonders had happened during 
 those two days, that when they had once begun 
 they could not fail to continue. 
 
 But, since then, day after day had passed 
 and nothing had happened. Weeks had fol- 
 lowed weeks, all so much alike, that as she 
 looked back she could not distinguish one from 
 another. 
 
 There was something peculiar and incom- 
 prehensible in the silence around her. At 
 times she fancied that events which concerned 
 her were happening far away in the world. 
 She was surrounded by an echo of voices ; 
 sometimes even she felt very worried because 
 someone was longing for her and wanting to 
 reach her. But the whole of February, March, 
 and April had gone now and not a message or 
 letter had she had from those who were free to 
 move about as they pleased and were not shut 
 up as she was in an iron cage. Now she began 
 to realise that no one was coming, and that 
 she must fight her battle alone without any
 
 A Spring Evening 207 
 
 helping hand. But how hard it was to give up 
 all hope ! She thought she had won such strong 
 kind friends, she still could not believe that 
 they did not trouble about her. 
 
 The old stone she was sitting on was said to 
 have lain on the wayside ever since the time 
 when Lovdala had been nothing but a cow- 
 house in the midst of wild forest where the 
 dairy-maids came every summer with their cows 
 and goats. Then some young cattle-man had 
 hollowed out a seat in the stone block to give 
 a resting-place to his sweetheart. From the 
 hill-top, where it lay, Loven and the church 
 could be seen in the far distance, and those 
 who tended the cattle had no doubt sat there 
 many an evening looking for someone to come 
 and fetch them from the solitary pastures down 
 to the homes of men again. When she sat 
 here she could always feel that many a longing 
 soul had been there before her. The Pastor's 
 daughter buried her head in her hands and 
 sighed. If anyone wanted to help her, they 
 must come soon. She could not hold out much 
 longer ; not that any disease had attacked her, 
 but she was near to death's door from very 
 sorrow and desolate loneliness. She would 
 certainly not be able to crawl up here many 
 more times. 
 
 Besides, it was not only for herself that help 
 and rescue were needed, but for Lovdala too. 
 The home whose every stone was dear to her 
 heart was on the high-road to ruin. They had 
 only reached the last days of April, and it was 
 cold for sitting still, so she began to go slowly
 
 2o8 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 homewards, no longer thinking of herself, but 
 only of Lovdala. 
 
 One Sunday towards the end of March her 
 father had come home from church with the 
 news that Pastor Liliecrona had petitioned the 
 King to release him from his nomination to the 
 living of Sjoskoga. When he spoke of this at 
 the dinner-table her cheeks had flamed in her 
 eagerness to hear more, and she had at once 
 asked if dear father had heard why he would not 
 accept the high position. But her father could 
 not answer. He only knew that Pastor Lilie- 
 crona was doing much good amongst his 
 people, and he added that he must be a man of 
 singular merit to be able to refuse a com- 
 petence, and a high social position as well, to 
 stay with those who needed him. 
 
 Her stepmother, too, had shown special 
 interest in the news. She had asked if it was 
 really a fact that Liliecrona had now quite 
 given up Sjoskoga, and when she was assured 
 that that was so, she had said straight out in 
 her abrupt fashion that in her opinion dear 
 father ought to try for it. 
 
 The Pastor had certainly not been very often 
 at a loss in his life, but now he sat speechless, 
 staring at his wife. Indeed, he had almost a 
 frightened look, as if he felt it a misfortune that 
 such an idea had occurred to her. He was 
 evidently no longer very sure that he had the 
 strength to say Fru Raklitz nay. 
 
 Maia Lisa was quite upset as well. She would 
 have liked to think that her stepmother was 
 joking, if such a thing had been possible.
 
 A Spring Evening 209 
 
 And in one way, of course, her idea was not so 
 foolish. Maia Lisa herself had often thought 
 her father ought to be bishop at least, but 
 since he had had that stroke it would indeed 
 be doing him the greatest wrong to urge him 
 to try for a large and burdensome living. 
 Dear father had certainly been much stronger 
 lately, and now seemed almost his old self 
 again, but her stepmother could not fail to 
 know that his strength was no longer what it 
 was before. 
 
 But Maia Lisa forced herself to keep silence. 
 If she had ventured to bring forward her ob- 
 jections, she would only have raised her step- 
 mother's zeal to fever heat. 
 
 When Fru Raklitz got no reply from either 
 one or the other she went on talking about the 
 matter. " If you sit rooted to one spot too 
 long, you grow old before your time. There is 
 nothing so good for anyone as to be shaken out 
 of an old rut and go to fresh work." 
 
 Maia Lisa thought that it had gone too far 
 with dear father for him to be refreshed with 
 increased work, but she still contrived to hold 
 her peace. Then her stepmother began to talk 
 as if it were already decided that the Pastor 
 would fall in with her suggestion. No doubt 
 the whole election would have to take place 
 again, but in any case he must go to Karlstad 
 the next day and inquire, and then it would 
 be best for him to go straight on to Stockholm 
 and make his application to His Majesty in 
 person. She knew he had special qualifications 
 as far as learning went and could get many
 
 2io Liliecrona's Home 
 
 strong supporters, as he had been tutor many 
 years ago to several influential men who were 
 now in high places. 
 
 Until then Maia Lisa's anxiety had been 
 entirely on her father's account, but now another 
 thought flashed across her mind so that she lost 
 her self-control and interrupted her stepmother 
 saying, " If dear father goes to Sjoskoga he 
 cannot keep Lovdala." 
 
 Her stepmother turned towards her and 
 crooked her fingers till her hand looked like 
 claws, whilst all the detestation and hatred 
 she had ever felt for Maia Lisa shook her voice 
 to such a degree that it was barely possible to 
 understand her words as she answered : 
 
 " Is your father compelled to sit here and keep 
 Lovdala warm for you ? It is just as well that 
 he can get clear of it, and be a free man again 
 and get into a position suited to him." 
 
 The Pastor had finished his dinner and made 
 haste to get up from the table. He was glad 
 to be able to put an end to the conversation. 
 But now Maia Lisa knew what her stepmother 
 meant when she had said that one day she 
 would teach her how to cry. Dear father was 
 to go and try for Sjoskoga simply because her 
 stepmother knew that she loved Lovdala 
 above all else, and that nothing in the world 
 would give her such sorrow as to lose her 
 childhood's home. 
 
 For a good week Fru Raklitz had to stick 
 to her work before she could stir the Pastor. 
 Every day she begged and prayed and used all 
 her influence to induce him, at any rate, to go
 
 A Spring Evening 2 1 1 
 
 to Karlstad and see how the matter stood. 
 But up to the very last it seemed as if she 
 would never succeed, and certainly she would 
 have had to give up the attempt if something 
 else had not come to her aid. Her husband 
 had been the Pastor of Svartsjo for twenty 
 years, and all the time he had had to bear much 
 annoyance and many a sore trouble too. First 
 and foremost his heavy task when the old 
 church was burnt down by lightning and he had 
 to get a new one built. Not only was he 
 obliged to beg money from the King, but he 
 had asked for help from several wealthy land- 
 owners, and had travelled from parish to parish 
 to collect funds. When the church was finished 
 it was recognised that the building was mainly 
 due to his efforts, and he had on that account 
 enjoyed the deep gratitude and respect of his 
 people. But lately he had certainly noticed 
 that his parishioners had begun to fall away 
 from him. They did not come as of old to 
 ask his advice on this or that question. The 
 reason, of course, was that they thought his 
 advice now was dictated by his wife's opinions. 
 But the Pastor did not understand that, and 
 felt aggrieved. 
 
 And much the same had happened with his 
 immediate dependents. The dwelling-house, 
 no less than the church, had been burnt down 
 in the Pastor's time, and he had been put to 
 much expense and inconvenience to build it 
 again. All the people on the estate who had, 
 for the most part, worked there long before his 
 time had been glad of his success both in
 
 212 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 building and in the cultivation of his land, 
 so that he never met with any but friendly 
 looks. But lately there had been a change. 
 He saw sullen faces both in the servants' room 
 and in the kitchen, and, as he would not for a 
 moment give the blame where it rightfully 
 belonged, he went in a constant state of wonder 
 why his good old servants now proved them- 
 selved ungrateful and surly. 
 
 All this was an immense help to the Pastor's 
 wife when she wanted to persuade him to try 
 for Sjoskoga. But she would certainly not 
 have succeeded, even with this to help her, if 
 there had not been the trouble with Vetter as well. 
 
 The Pastor's daughter was so tired and de- 
 pressed that she paid little heed to time, but 
 she thought it must have been about the middle 
 of March that her stepmother had been so 
 frightened because Vetter had come home 
 from prison again. 
 
 Vetter lived in a tiny cottage, a little to the 
 north of Lovdala, and they ought really all 
 of them to have been frightened that he was 
 home again, for he was a professional thief. 
 But Vetter had been a neighbour of Lovdala's 
 for many years, and they did not trouble much 
 whether he was at home or away, especially 
 as they knew he was too clever to steal from 
 his next-door neighbours. Every time Vetter 
 came from prison he vowed he would stay at 
 home, but he was never able to keep his vow. 
 He liked his profession, and he was as proud of 
 his clever thefts as the Pastor's wife was of her 
 fine cooking. But the consequence of this was
 
 A Spring Evening 213 
 
 that he spent the greater part of his life in 
 prison. When the Pastor had married a second 
 time, Vetter had been under lock and key, 
 so that the Pastor's wife had not the slightest 
 inkling that she had a professional burglar as 
 her neighbour. 
 
 So now she was nearly terrified out of her 
 senses. It was Fru Raklitz's firm conviction 
 that everyone stole, dear father scarcely ex- 
 cepted, and she lived in perpetual fear of losing 
 all her belongings. In the course of the many 
 years that she had been housekeeper in grand 
 families she had got a fair amount of silver as 
 presents, and this she kept in a box which she 
 put every night under her bed. This silver 
 was her dearest possession, and now when a 
 burglar lived quite close, she was certain it 
 would be lost. She already had her cupboards 
 and doors so securely fastened that they could 
 not be made any safer. But after Vetter came 
 home she had time for scarcely anything but 
 trying the locks and counting the keys on her 
 ring. In the evening she used to fetch a great 
 axe from the woodshed to put beside the bed, 
 and she never rested until the Pastor hung a 
 loaded gun over the head of the bed. He tried 
 to convince her that Vetter never stole from 
 his neighbours, but it was impossible to calm 
 her fears. 
 
 When Vetter had been at home a couple of 
 days he came to pay a visit to Lovdala, as he 
 always did. The Pastor's wife was standing 
 in the kitchen, and as she saw him pass the 
 window she asked at once who it was.
 
 214 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 " Why, that's Vetter," answered the house- 
 keeper with a little astonishment. " Of course 
 he is coming up to let the Pastor know he is 
 at home again." Fru Raklitz had certainly 
 not expected this answer, for the man who 
 had gone into the Pastor's room looked a nice 
 respectable old peasant. It was too much 
 for her, and she nearly fainted from fright. As 
 soon as she had recovered a little she hastened 
 into the other rooms, took the silver chest and 
 sat on the drawing-room sofa, clasping it in 
 her arm as long as Vetter stayed in the house. 
 And a good time she had to sit, for the Pastor 
 had always had a certain liking for Vetter, 
 and did not let him go until he had heard all 
 his latest experiences. And when he had 
 finished the Pastor had to give him a few words 
 of warning and admonition, so that it might 
 not look as though he had let him tell his tale 
 just for the pleasure of hearing him. 
 
 After this the Pastor's wife grew a little less 
 frightened for the valuables in the dwelling- 
 house, but so much the more uneasy for the 
 barns and out-buildings, and above all, for the 
 larder and storeroom. This had such a wretched 
 old lock that anyone who liked could open it. 
 If the key wasn't handy it was quite easy to 
 turn it with a bit of stick. 
 
 In the very same week when there was so 
 much talk about Sjoskoga, Fru Raklitz had 
 sent to Smedsby to fetch Olaus, a master lock- 
 smith, and set him to make a new lock which 
 was to be strong enough to resist the cleverest 
 burglar that ever was. For four days Olaus
 
 A Spring Evening 215 
 
 stood working in the smithy, but at the end of 
 that time he had made a great lock so heavy 
 and stiff that even the Pastor's wife herself 
 could scarcely turn the key. 
 
 When it had been fixed on the larder door Fru 
 Raklitz was quite happy. She locked the door 
 herself in the evening and took the key to bed 
 with her. She said she should sleep more 
 easily that night than she had done for many a 
 long day. Next morning when she awoke the 
 great key lay untouched under her pillow, 
 but that had not prevented something very 
 remarkable from happening in the larder under 
 cover of the darkness. 
 
 There stood the door, just as securely fastened 
 as the evening before, but none the less every- 
 thing movable that had been inside tubs of 
 meat, poles 1 of bread, hams, and sausages, 
 weights and measures, buckets and sacks 
 had all been carried out and arranged on the 
 larder steps. Everything was moved out, as 
 we have said, but nothing destroyed, nothing 
 taken away, and when they saw it all standing 
 outside the door it was impossible not to wonder 
 how it could possibly have got there. The 
 Pastor's wife, like everyone else, at once guessed 
 that Vetter had been there. But when she had 
 poked and pried and found that not a crumb 
 was missing, she really could not understand a 
 thief like that. 
 
 1 Swedish bread is baked in the form of thin biscuits, about nine 
 inches in diameter with a hole in the centre, through which a long 
 pole is run. These poles are kept in the storeroom for three 
 months at a time,
 
 216 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 When the Pastor went for his morning walk, 
 however, he met Vetter and got an explanation. 
 
 " Vetter, Vetter ! " he said, " what are you 
 up to now ? Was it you that visited my larder 
 last night ? ' ; Vetter looked quite insulted 
 as he replied : 
 
 " Pastor can give my respects to his wife 
 and tell her that I have never stolen from my 
 neighbours. But she needn't think that any 
 of her locks are good enough to keep me from 
 anything I want to get." 
 
 Oh dear, dear ! If only the Pastor had been 
 as of old he would have enjoyed the joke for 
 many a long day, but now it only annoyed him. 
 He knew the tale would go all over the parish, 
 and everyone would laugh at his wife and at 
 him too perhaps. Not a single word did he 
 answer. No doubt in his heart he felt disap- 
 pointed in everyone, and that as he had no 
 friends left amongst his people it might be 
 just as well to get away from Svartsjo. When 
 he came back to the house he told his wife he 
 would drive to Karlstad next day and see how 
 matters stood about Sjoskoga. 
 
 Dear Father had gone and come back again, 
 and it really seemed as if his wife had been 
 right, for he had looked much brighter on his 
 return. He had been to Karlstad, and to 
 Stockholm as well, and got many fair promises. 
 There was no doubt about his getting away 
 from Svartsjo. The Pastor had heard a strange 
 piece of news too on his journey, and that was 
 that Pastor Liliecrona of Finnerud had been 
 married in the spring. Folks said it was not a
 
 A Spring Evening 217 
 
 good match, for his wife was of quite lowly birth. 
 And this was really the reason, so the Pastor 
 had been told, why he had chosen to remain 
 up there amongst the Finns. 
 
 Maia Lisa had not dared to ask her father 
 for any more particulars, for her stepmother 
 had fixed some very inquiring looks upon her. 
 But at least she now understood why she had 
 heard no word of her kind helper. And it was 
 especially after that that she had lost all 
 courage and hope. Pastor Liliecrona had 
 seemed a brave and resolute champion, and 
 she had trusted him as she would a kind brother. 
 Until now she had expected him to come riding 
 up in the triumphant strength of his youth and 
 put everything right for her.
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE ACCUSATION 
 
 "T7VERYONE in Lovdala was so consumed 
 .TIL with curiosity that they could scarcely 
 contain themselves. For just think, the fore- 
 man of Henriksberg had come driving up with 
 a woman no one knew, and instead of going 
 into the drawing-room as other visitors used 
 to do, they had gone to the Pastor's study and 
 stayed there talking alone with him for several 
 hours. Neither the Pastor's wife nor his 
 daughter nor any of the maids could solve the 
 riddle of why they had come. The housemaid 
 who helped them out of the sledge had noticed 
 that they both looked serious and troubled, 
 but that was all the information she could 
 give. 
 
 The Pastor's wife had tried to sit in the 
 parlour with her work, for this room adjoined 
 the Pastor's, and if she could have stayed there 
 she would soon have found out the visitors' 
 errand. But she had not been seated two minutes 
 before the Pastor peeped out of his door and 
 begged her to go somewhere else. What they 
 were talking about in his study she should 
 hear at the proper time from his own lips. 
 The strangers had come so early in the 
 218
 
 The Accusation 219 
 
 afternoon that the Pastor's wife was uneasy lest 
 they had not dined. So she sent in the house- 
 maid to ask if she should get some dinner 
 ready, but the maid brought back word that 
 they wanted nothing. Whilst she had been in 
 the room no one had spoken, so all she could 
 report was that the woman had sat there drying 
 her eyes as though she had been crying. 
 
 The man who had driven them over was 
 invited into the kitchen to have a meal. He 
 was very glad to tell all he knew, which how- 
 ever was not much. He had never set eyes on 
 the woman until the evening before, when she 
 had walked down to Henriksberg and asked to 
 see the foreman. Early this morning the fore- 
 man had come down himself to the stable and 
 ordered a sledge for Lovdala, but he was a 
 man who would be silent for weeks together 
 and not one word had he uttered all the time 
 they were driving over. The Pastor's wife 
 had not been able to sit quietly at her work, 
 but had done nothing but walk from one room 
 to another ever since the strangers had entered 
 the house. Once she took Little-Maid into 
 the drawing-room to ask her if she had told 
 anyone she was teaching her to read and 
 write. 
 
 Not that it mattered so much if she had. But 
 Fru Raklitz was so looking forward to telling 
 the Pastor that she could read his books, if 
 only Little-Maid could keep the secret a little 
 longer. Little-Maid assured her that she had 
 said nothing. She thought to herself that she 
 had never had the least desire to tell either the
 
 22O Liliecrona's Home 
 
 Pastor or anyone else about the piece of writing. 
 There was something else far harder not to 
 speak about, for she could not understand 
 why Mamsell Maia Lisa had so strictly for- 
 bidden her to tell the Pastor how her stepmother 
 treated her. What would it matter if he should 
 find out what sort of evil spirit he had for a 
 wife ? 
 
 Maia Lisa was the least curious of all. Lately 
 her soul had seemed almost paralysed. She 
 could be neither glad nor sorry, and cared 
 nothing what happened to her. She fancied 
 her stepmother would never cease tormenting 
 her until she lay on a bed of sickness. Not that 
 that mattered much. And least of all did she 
 dread the thought of death. It would be but 
 a beautiful, quiet rest. She was sitting at her 
 loom when Little-Maid came in to tell her 
 that the Henriksberg foreman had come to 
 Lovdala, and she only stopped her work for 
 a moment. " The Henriksberg foreman " 
 how unfamiliar the name sounded. Why 
 should his coming matter to her ? If it had 
 been in the winter she would have expected 
 everything from it, but now . . . 
 
 At five o'clock the Pastor rang his bell and 
 asked for a tray of bread and butter and three 
 glasses of milk to be taken into the parlour. 
 As he had particularly said three glasses his 
 wife understood that he did not wish for her 
 company, so she sat sewing in the drawing- 
 room until she heard her husband and his 
 visitors go into the parlour. Then she put 
 down her work and went into the kitchen.
 
 The Accusation 221 
 
 " Come with me," she said to Little-Maid. 
 " I must have the Pastor's best clothes to get 
 them brushed, for it is Sunday to-morrow, but 
 I have not been able to go into his room. We 
 must try, if we can manage it, now whilst they 
 are eating their supper." They crossed the 
 hall on tiptoe, and Fru Raklitz opened the 
 door of the Pastor's room so softly that it 
 could not possibly disturb those others who 
 were sitting in the parlour. Then she opened 
 the wardrobe door just as cautiously. 
 
 " Now get in there," she whispered to Little- 
 Maid ; " but do be quiet." 
 
 Little-Maid got into the cupboard and in a 
 second the Pastor's wife had shut the door. 
 " Now they are coming. You must just stay 
 where you are for a little," she whispered 
 through the crack of the door. And Little- 
 Maid heard how she crept away. But if the 
 Pastor's wife had contrived to shut Little- 
 Maid in the cupboard to find out what the 
 strangers had come for, she had her trouble for 
 nothing. For now the Pastor sent both for 
 her and his daughter, and even for old Fru 
 Beat a from the brewhouse room. 
 
 When they came in, the Henriksberg foreman 
 was standing with his arms crossed, leaning 
 against the Pastor's great bookcase, and the 
 woman he had brought with him was sitting 
 on the little corner sofa. She was young, and 
 would have been good-looking if her face 
 had not been so flushed and tear-stained. As 
 each one entered the Pastor got up and in- 
 troduced the strangers. This, he said, was the
 
 222 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 wife of Pastor Liliecrona of Finnerud, and 
 that was her brother-in-law, Foreman Lilie- 
 crona of the Hemiksberg ironworks. Nothing 
 more was said until the Pastor's wife and Fru 
 Beata had seated themselves in the Pastor's 
 two great high-backed chairs, and Maia Lisa 
 had taken her place on a stool close to the 
 writing-table, where she had sat in bygone days 
 whenever she came to her father's room. 
 
 They all felt a storm was brewing, but no one 
 knew on whom it was to burst until the Pastor 
 directly addressed his daughter. " No doubt 
 you already know all about Fru Pastor Lilie- 
 crona who is sitting here now ? " he said. 
 
 Maia Lisa kept her eyes cast down, for she 
 did not dare to look at her father. No sooner 
 had she entered the room than she noticed 
 that something terrible had happened to him. 
 "Now," thought she, "dear father's death-blow 
 has come." His face was grey and he panted 
 heavily between every word he uttered. Her 
 anxiety was so intense that paralysis and in- 
 difference had taken flight at once. Her hands 
 began to tremble and she clenched her teeth 
 to keep them from chattering. She expected 
 nothing less than that he would have a stroke 
 and fall down dead before her eyes. But the 
 Pastor sat there waiting for her answer, and 
 at last she so far mastered her fright as to be 
 able to say in a fairly calm voice : " Dear 
 Father, I have never seen Fru Pastor before 
 to-day. I do not understand what dear father 
 means." 
 
 Her father shrugged his shoulders. Perhaps
 
 The Accusation 223 
 
 she would understand better if he informed 
 her that Fru Pastor was the lady who had for 
 several years been Pastor Liliecrona's house- 
 keeper ? There was something strange in the 
 Pastor's voice, a note of anger and contempt. 
 There was, too, a threatening frown on his 
 brow, and one flush after another flamed across 
 his face. Maia Lisa saw that something had 
 happened which made her father not only very 
 unhappy, but very angry as well. And al- 
 though she could in no wise imagine how such a 
 thing was possible, yet she had to confess to 
 herself that his anger was directed against 
 herself. Almost unconsciously she got up 
 from her little stool and stood straight and 
 slim in front of her father to defend herself 
 more ably. "Dear Father, no doubt, can see 
 that I am no wiser than before/' 
 
 The Pastor looked as though he had not 
 expected such obstinacy. He had, of course, 
 no doubt that she knew the whole story, but 
 since she wished to hear it again he had no 
 objection to telling it from his point of view. 
 Possibly her aunt in Svanskog had not given 
 her an accurate account. Maia Lisa ventured 
 to interrupt her father. Her aunt in Svanskog 
 had talked a good deal of Pastor Liliecrona, 
 but had not mentioned one single word about 
 his housekeeper. The Pastor waved the in- 
 terruption impatiently aside. It was all one 
 whether she had heard the gossip from her aunt 
 or from someone else. No doubt from some 
 woman or other, for he knew perfectly well 
 that they were always the most spiteful to one
 
 224 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 another. If a man had chanced to speak of 
 the matter he would at the same time have 
 reminded her that before she judged her 
 neighbour she must put herself in his place. 
 How many of those who rejoiced that Pastor 
 Liliecrona had stayed long amongst the Finns, 
 spending his strength for their salvation, had 
 pictured to themselves what sort of a life he 
 had up there ! The Pastor himself had never 
 known until to-day that he had been living in 
 a native hut with one room only, and that his 
 stipend was barely one hundred thalers. What 
 a labour for whoever managed his house to 
 keep the wolf from the door even ! She who 
 was sitting on the sofa there had not only 
 woven his clothes, but made them as well. She 
 had taken his cows and sheep to their forest 
 pastures, and all the years she had served him 
 she had done far more for him than any spoilt 
 fine young lady could ever dream of. She, 
 indeed, could write to her credit, and hers alone, 
 that Pastor Liliecrona had been able to carry 
 on his good work there. 
 
 The Pastor's daughter felt that she too was 
 beginning to feel a little annoyed as well as 
 the Pastor. Why, indeed, was dear father 
 angry ? Did he think she had tried to beguile 
 Pastor Liliecrona when they chanced to meet 
 in Svanskog ? Surely there was no sin in 
 speaking to him ! But she kept her words in 
 check, and only begged her father to believe 
 that she had never heard a word of all this. 
 The Pastor impatiently fingered a little crushed 
 note lying on the writing-table in front of him.
 
 The Accusation 225 
 
 It was certainly remarkable, he said, that she 
 had got to know of the relationship between 
 Pastor Liliecrona and his housekeeper, when 
 it had been kept such a secret that even his 
 brother was entirely ignorant of it until after 
 their marriage. But when she had managed 
 to find it out, how could she have been so hasty 
 in passing judgment on it ? Could she not see 
 that the other had the most sacred rights ? 
 Even if she were not yet his lawful wife, even 
 if she were of lower rank, ought her long devo- 
 tion, her great self-sacrifice, to have been mis- 
 understood even by the most hard-hearted ? 
 
 The Pastor's daughter once more begged him 
 to excuse her, but she really did not understand 
 what her fault had been. It was evident how 
 terribly vexed the Pastor was at being forced 
 to give so many explanations, and great drops 
 of sweat stood out upon his brow. 
 
 If it were really any news to her, he went on, 
 he would inform her that many years ago Pastor 
 Liliecrona had promised marriage to the woman 
 who was now his wife. It had been arranged 
 that the marriage should take place as soon 
 as he was in a position to keep a wife in comfort 
 and not be obliged to let her lead a servant's 
 life. Nor had there ever been the least doubt 
 that he would keep his promise until just 
 after this Christmas. Pastor Liliecrona had 
 then gone a little journey, to meet his brother, 
 it was said. He had gone no farther than 
 Svanskog inn, but on his return he had been 
 utterly changed. He was restless and gloomy, 
 and no longer talked of their marriage. So
 
 226 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 they made inquiries as to whom he had met in 
 Svanskog. (And with that he turned and 
 faced Maia Lisa.) " But perhaps you have no 
 idea either whom he met ? " 
 
 " Dear Father, I know he met me. Pastor 
 Liliecrona talked to me all day, very simply 
 and naturally, just like a kind brother." 
 
 The Pastor made a gesture of annoyance 
 again as if in despair at her stubbornness. 
 
 " It may be true enough that Pastor Lilie- 
 crona did not make love to you that day, but 
 you cannot have been in any doubt as to his 
 feelings. Otherwise you would certainly not 
 have been bold enough to send this note." 
 
 Maia Lisa broke in without the least cere- 
 mony. " Dear Father, I have never written 
 to Pastor Liliecrona. If Fru Pastor ..." 
 
 ' There is no question of writing to Pastor 
 Liliecrona, but of a note to his housekeeper." 
 
 " Oh, indeed, to his housekeeper ! " And 
 Maia Lisa's voice was now every whit as angry 
 and contemptuous as her father's. " Oh, 
 indeed, dear Father has heard that I have 
 written to her, written, I suppose, to ask her 
 to give up Pastor Liliecrona for my sake ? " 
 
 The Pastor looked at her coldly. " No doubt 
 you know what you wrote," he said. But the 
 Pastor's daughter was angry now in good 
 earnest. She was no longer intent on sparing 
 her father, but only on clearing herself, and she 
 wanted to get to the bottom of the matter. 
 " Dear Father," she asked, " is my name written 
 at the foot of this letter ? " 
 
 " No, there is no name at all, but it was sent to
 
 The Accusation 227 
 
 Finnenid with a message from your aunt in 
 Svanskog that it had come from Lovdala for 
 Pastor Liliecrona's housekeeper." The Pastor 
 was certainly amazed that Maia Lisa was not 
 overwhelmed by such proof as this, but she 
 simply asked again : 
 
 " Dear Father, tell me what else I have done. 
 It is very amusing to hear this, and I really 
 cannot guess everything." 
 
 " What else you have done ! " And down 
 crashed the Pastor's fist on the table. "Is it 
 not enough to have written a letter, to have 
 tried to entrap a man who belonged to another, 
 to have insulted a woman whose only fault 
 was her love ? What you have done ? You 
 have driven this woman to despair, so that in 
 desperation she committed the most fatal 
 error. For she went to Karlstad, told the Bishop 
 the whole tale, and begged for help. Whereupon 
 the Bishop takes her part, and writes to Lilie- 
 crona that now, when he intends to enter on a 
 more important charge, he must be less easily 
 satisfied with his own conduct. And he gives 
 him to understand that he cannot be appointed 
 until he has settled his private affairs in a 
 satisfactory manner. It is true the Bishop has 
 written as kindly and tactfully as possible, but 
 Pastor Liliecrona is a proud and hasty man 
 and he has felt shamed and insulted to the 
 last degree. If nothing had been done in the 
 matter, there was reason to hope that his 
 natural kindness of heart would have won 
 the day, that he would have conquered the 
 fleeting passion which had overcome him, and
 
 228 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 that of his own free will he would have followed 
 the call of duty. But now, when he feels 
 himself forced, he grows desperate, and is 
 seized with bitter hatred for the woman who 
 has such claims upon his affection. At first he 
 says not a word either of his hatred or of the 
 Bishop's warning ; but one day, about a month 
 after he had received it, he goes to the stable, 
 harnesses his horse, drives up to the door, and 
 asks if she will take a little drive. Up she 
 jumps, snatches up a handkerchief for her head, 
 and sits down in the sledge just as she is, in 
 her short everyday fur jacket and her stout 
 shoes. Off goes the sledge, rushing past one 
 or two big houses, only Finns' it is true, but she 
 feels ashamed and proposes getting out and 
 going home. But no, the driver will not stop. 
 So she submits and they drive into a desolate 
 forest, ever faster and faster, until she begins 
 to be frightened and once more begs to get out. 
 Then with an angry look he tells her harshly 
 that she is driving to her wedding. They are 
 on the way to the Vastmarken Parsonage to 
 be married. She thinks he is joking and sits 
 quiet for a little while, and then once more 
 begs him to let her get out and go home. With 
 a jerk the horse is pulled up, and she is told she 
 is at liberty to leave the sledge if she pleases, 
 but if she does, she may give up all hope of 
 ever being married. He intends now to go to 
 Vastmarken and marry her, but if she does not 
 seize this opportunity he will never give her 
 another. When she replies that they cannot 
 possibly be married until the banns are called,
 
 The Accusation 229 
 
 he tells her that has already been done, without 
 her knowledge, in her native parish, and tells 
 her, too, with such a terrible face and manner, 
 that in her fright she nearly gets out. But she 
 bethinks herself that this would be to lose all 
 the joy of life, and keeps her place. She is 
 full of doubt all the way, knowing how great 
 the hatred must be that forces her to be married 
 without a proper wedding-dress. Even in the 
 church before the altar she almost says " No," 
 but she will not give up the man she loves to 
 the writer of that letter, of those abominable 
 lines that have been the cause of all the misery. 
 No doubt, too, she hopes that his hatred will 
 lessen in time, and that she will be able to 
 reconcile him and win back his affection. 
 But she is wrong in this, for she is really hated 
 with a terrible hatred. Soon she learns that 
 her husband has made up his mind and declined 
 the valuable living, and she understands that 
 he has done so to compel her to drag on a life 
 of poverty, for he grudges her any happiness 
 that might come from a position of comfort 
 and respect. Nor is this all. She soon notices 
 something far worse, and that is that he is 
 going to ruin himself in every way. She notices 
 that he is beginning to drink without any 
 moderation, and, beg and pray as she may, it 
 is all of no avail. She cannot disguise from 
 herself that life no longer holds a single joy 
 for him. He pays no heed even to his poor 
 parishioners ; his one idea is to fail utterly, 
 to go to ruin. Think now how a very fine work 
 is stopped and a very good man turned into a
 
 230 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 wild beast ! And all this the result of a foolish 
 girl's thoughtlessness ! Perhaps now she can 
 understand what she has done. Above all, 
 perhaps she can now understand that she 
 would do well to own that she wrote the note 
 in the delirium of her foolish love. For if not, 
 then her father will be forced to believe that she 
 wrote it in a devilish intrigue to ruin Liliecrona, 
 so that his place in Sjoskoga might be gained 
 by one to whom she was more nearly related. 
 And then she would never be forgiven nor be 
 called his daughter any more." 
 
 All the time she stood listening to her father's 
 words Maia Lisa was thinking how she could 
 possibly convince him that she had not written 
 the note. Alas, if on any other occasion she 
 had heard this tale told with such eloquence, 
 how it would have moved her ! But now she 
 could only think of the injustice done her, and 
 that not by her father alone. She did not heed 
 the poor wife, but she did think of the man 
 who had come with her to make the accusation. 
 He, too, believed in her guilt, believed that she 
 had written to beg for a man who belonged to 
 another. 
 
 She turned suddenly from her father and 
 looked at Liliecrona. 
 
 His eyes had not been fixed on her, but he 
 started as if he felt her glance. He had been 
 looking very sad indeed, but now the kindly 
 smile suddenly passed over his face and he 
 looked at her reassuringly, as at a child who 
 has played a foolish trick and as though he 
 wanted to ask her to be comforted, for no great
 
 The Accusation 231 
 
 harm was done. But in a second he looked 
 away again. 
 
 She turned impatiently from him, and whilst 
 her father went on speaking, her eyes sought 
 her grandmother. And Fru Beata's eyes met 
 hers very seriously, and with almost the same 
 expression as Liliecrona's, an expression plainly 
 saying, " Be sensible now and don't be afraid," 
 and she too looked away again in a second 
 in the same direction as Lliecrona had 
 done. 
 
 Then Maia Lisa looked there too and saw 
 they were both intently watching her step- 
 mother. Fru Raklitz seemed strangely altered. 
 She was deathly pale, and her eyes had much 
 the same wild look as on the morning when 
 Maia Lisa first met her. It was evident that 
 she was overcome by a terrible fear. For a 
 moment the Pastor's daughter wondered if her 
 stepmother had written the note herself, but 
 only for a moment, for she remembered that 
 Fru Raklitz could not write. Neither was her 
 fright to be wondered at, for the Pastor's 
 wrath was quite unnatural and she had every 
 reason to fear how it might end. It was really 
 a good thing that Maia Lisa had looked at her 
 stepmother, for the sight reminded her that she 
 must be careful not to irritate her father. In 
 perfect silence she listened to the very end, and 
 when he cried that he would disown her as his 
 daughter, she answered quite humbly : " Dear 
 father, do as you wish with me. If I may no 
 longer live under my father's roof then I 
 must . ."
 
 2 32 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 She was interrupted by Fru Pastor Liliecrona, 
 who stepped up to her quickly, and, as she 
 seized her hand, cried in a tone of misery that 
 this must be the end of the matter. Neither 
 she nor her brother-in-law had ever meant 
 any mention to be made of that letter. They 
 had only shown it to the Pastor to prove that 
 his daughter really loved Liliecrona. She had 
 come on quite a different errand. She had 
 gone to Henriksberg yesterday because she 
 was in such despair. She could not bear 
 Liliecrona to go to ruin on her account, so she 
 had wished to ask his brother if there were no 
 possibility of his being freed from her. She 
 wanted to offer him his liberty ; she would never 
 come into his sight again if only she were 
 certain that he could have the wife he loved. 
 And it was to talk of this that she had come here 
 with his brother. They did not mean any ill to 
 Mamsell Maia Lisa. All they wanted was to 
 get her to help them to save the man who 
 was on the road to ruin. 
 
 The Pastor's daughter turned to her, and in 
 a moment she realised what a splendid young 
 man Pastor Liliecrona had been and how 
 terribly unhappy his wife must feel. Her heart 
 once more beat with her usual gentle kindness, 
 and with a trembling voice she answered : 
 " But alas, that I could not do. Help him, 
 indeed, if I had the power but I could never 
 marry him. He is not the man I love." 
 
 She felt how the hot blood rushed over her 
 face and neck. She had spoken as if there 
 were someone she did love.
 
 The Accusation 233 
 
 With an impatient gesture her father waved 
 her words aside. " You have surely not ..." 
 
 But here he was interrupted by grandmother, 
 who, from her far-away arm-chair, said : " Dear 
 son, how inconsiderately you treat Maia Lisa 
 this evening. You know very well that no maid 
 of seventeen years will ever confess her love, 
 least of all before so many hearers. You ought 
 to have spoken privately to Maia Lisa, and 
 then she would not have refused to explain 
 everything." 
 
 The Pastor's daughter could not help turning 
 and looking at her grandmother. There was 
 such a meaning tone in her voice and she 
 almost thought she was trying to give her some 
 private hint. " You treat this matter so vio- 
 lently, dear son," continued grandmother, " be- 
 cause you think it implicates you as well. 
 But you must not imagine that anyone will 
 ever dream that you had a finger in it. Every- 
 one knows you would not do a thing to harm 
 Pastor Liliecrona so that you might get the 
 important living yourself." A deep silence 
 rilled the room, no one knew what to answer. 
 
 " I think Maia Lisa may very well own to 
 having written the letter, and that you, dear son, 
 may forgive her. Everyone understands that 
 she did it from youth and inexperience, never 
 guessing that it could have such terrible con- 
 sequences." 
 
 Maia Lisa saw that her grandmother was urg- 
 ing her to take the guilt on her own shoulders, 
 but she did not understand why she wished her 
 to do so. At last the old lady made a slight
 
 234 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 movement with one hand to call her attention 
 to her stepmother. Fru Raklitz still sat crouch- 
 ing in the same mortal fear and now Maia 
 Lisa understood. Her grandmother believed 
 her stepmother had sent the note herself, and 
 saw that it was better for her father to think 
 Maia Lisa had sinned from love and inex- 
 perience than that his wife had done so from 
 the basest of motives. Ah me ! such a demand 
 seemed too terribly hard for Maia Lisa. And 
 in her uncertainty she looked round and cast 
 a stolen glance at the man still standing quietly 
 by the bookcase. She thought he met her 
 glance with tender sympathy, but that must 
 have been a mistake, for he could not fail to 
 hate her. 
 
 " Dear Father," said Maia Lisa, "forgive me 
 for denying it. But you terrified me ..." 
 
 But as she spoke she was overcome by a 
 sense of the wrong she was doing herself in 
 owning to such a base and horrible deed. 
 She burst into tears and threw herself into her 
 grandmother's arms with the cry, "It is too 
 hard, I really cannot." 
 
 " Yes, of course," said the old lady. " It 
 was hard, I know, but it is said now. Come 
 down to my room and have your cry out." 
 She put her arm round her waist and led her 
 to the door, still sobbing and repeating that she 
 could not do it. " You need not say any 
 more," said Fru Beata ; " your father under- 
 stands it all ; after all, you are but a child." 
 
 When they reached the threshold Liliecrona 
 came back to life again. He hurried forward
 
 The Accusation 235 
 
 and opened the door for Fru Beata, and when 
 he saw the hall door was shut he went with 
 them and opened it as well. That done, he 
 noticed the front steps were steep and diffi- 
 cult for an old lady and so was the slope 
 down to the brewhouse. So he came too, and 
 gave a helping hand to grandmother. Then 
 there was the horrid stair to her room, and again 
 he must go all the way. When they got inside 
 her room, he said not a word, but threw his 
 arms round Fru Beata and kissed her cheek, 
 then turned to Maia Lisa, took her in his arms, 
 and kissed her also. 
 
 Not a word did he say, and was gone in a 
 moment. But everything this man did, always 
 came so suddenly, just when it was least ex- 
 pected, that there was never any chance of 
 being prepared to prevent it. 
 
 After all, it was Little-Maid and no one else 
 who settled the matter at last. The strangers 
 took leave and went their way the moment 
 Mamsell Maia Lisa had gone with her grand- 
 mother to her room in the brewhouse. The 
 Pastor could not have felt very well, for he 
 did not leave his chair to take them to the front 
 steps and say farewell. As soon as they had 
 gone his wife came and told him she had put 
 some supper in the best parlour, for she thought 
 he must need a little refreshment after all he 
 had gone through. But he only asked to be 
 left in peace and quiet. It was Saturday 
 evening, and he had to finish writing his sermon. 
 
 So he took his papers out of his desk and 
 scribbled a couple of lines, but no more, before
 
 2 36 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 he threw down his pen, pushed back his chair, 
 and walked up and down the room. Then he 
 lay down on the corner sofa, and the room 
 grew so silent that Little-Maid began to wonder 
 if he had fallen asleep. The cupboard door 
 was cracked and she could see he was lying on 
 the sofa, but not if his eyes were closed or not. 
 If only she could have been certain he was 
 asleep she would have tried to creep away, for 
 she was desperately tired of being shut up in 
 the narrow cupboard. Besides, how essential 
 it was she should be free to talk with the 
 Pastor's daughter and Fru Beata. She could 
 give them some information that they would 
 be glad to hear. 
 
 The Pastor had lain quiet so long that he 
 could not possibly be awake, so she thought 
 she might at least venture to open just a chink 
 to see how things were. The door moved without 
 a sound, but the Pastor was not sleeping, only 
 lying with his eyes fixed on the opposite wall. 
 Just as Little-Maid was going to close the door 
 again he turned his eyes in that direction and 
 caught sight of her. 
 
 He got up and came to the cupboard. There 
 was nothing for Little-Maid to do but to open 
 the door and step out. " What is the meaning 
 of this ? " asked the Pastor. ' What business 
 have you in my cupboard ? " 
 
 His face was so stern that Little-Maid grew 
 frightened. The Pastor and she had always 
 been good friends indeed ; she liked him better 
 than anyone in the house, except, of course, 
 Mamsell Maia Lisa. She did not want him
 
 The Accusation 237 
 
 to think any ill of her, so she hastened to tell 
 him that the Pastor's wife had shut her up in 
 the cupboard when he and the strangers had 
 been in the parlour. They had only come in 
 to fetch his Sunday clothes. 
 
 The Pastor stood thinking and then said, 
 " You may just as well tell the truth ; the 
 matter cannot be worse than it is ; it was, of 
 course, Maia Lisa and not my wife who shut 
 you in." 
 
 Little-Maid was so offended that she could 
 scarcely get out her words. " Mamsell Maia 
 Lisa ! " she said. " The Pastor's daughter 
 shut me up in a cupboard to stand there and 
 listen ? She wouldn't stoop to such a thing." 
 
 The Pastor sighed. " There isn't much she 
 wouldn't stoop to now," he said. ' You needn't 
 think I shall be any more vexed with you if 
 you own that it was Maia Lisa who shut you in. 
 I shall not be angry with you for that or any- 
 thing else if only you will tell the truth." 
 
 Little-Maid knew very well that no untrue 
 word had passed her lips since she had been 
 at Lovdala, and said so too. But the Pastor 
 did not seem to hear. " Of course, I see that 
 Maia Lisa had good reason to be afraid," he 
 said. " I can understand how she asked you 
 to get in and listen to what we were saying. 
 But the matter in no way concerned my 
 wife." 
 
 Little-Maid stood in utter silence. She did 
 not know what to say, for she had been strictly 
 forbidden by Mamsell Maia Lisa ever to tell 
 the Pastor any tales about his wife. And her
 
 238 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 mother had told her not to as well. It was not 
 the same here as in Svanskog, where she was 
 free to say anything she pleased. When she 
 did not answer, the Pastor took it for granted 
 that he was right in what he thought, and ordered 
 her to go away. She was on her way towards 
 the door when he called her back. Something 
 else had struck him that he wanted to ask her 
 about. 
 
 " Listen now," he said. " Since you are in 
 the habit of doing such errands for Maia Lisa, 
 perhaps it was you too who helped her to write 
 that letter. It is in a child's hand, and you can 
 both read and write, can't you ? " 
 
 " I have never written any letter for Mamsell 
 Maia Lisa," answered Little-Maid, " but I 
 wrote one for the Pastor's wife." 
 
 " Oh, indeed; you wrote one for my wife," 
 said the Pastor ; " but never for Maia Lisa." 
 And it was evident from his tone that he did 
 not believe her, any more than before. Perhaps 
 you remember what was in the letter that my 
 wife got you to write ? ' 
 
 Little-Maid answered that she could say it 
 word for word if the Pastor wished, and he 
 bade her try. 
 
 " I have really no business to write," she 
 began to repeat, " but I venture to beg you, 
 dear madam, to consider what you are doing. 
 Pastor Liliecrona has now found someone who 
 will make him happy. If you will go away of 
 your own free will they will always be grateful 
 and their future happiness will be secured. 
 You must remember, madam, that the new
 
 The Accusation 239 
 
 parish has a right to demand a Pastor's wife 
 of unblemished name." 
 
 The Pastor threw up his hands. ' That's 
 enough," he said, fixing a long and piercing 
 glance upon her. " And that is what you wrote 
 for my wife ? ''' 
 
 " Yes," answered Little-Maid without a 
 moment's hesitation. The Pastor's wife had 
 forbidden her to tell that she was teaching her 
 to read and write, but she had not said a word 
 about this letter. 
 
 The Pastor only shrugged his shoulders. 
 " Now you can see you are telling a lie," he 
 said in a weary tone. " You were standing in 
 the cupboard all the time, and, of course, you 
 heard that Maia Lisa owned to writing it 
 herself." 
 
 Little-Maid felt how red she grew. She 
 thought she really couldn't endure this; it 
 vexed her so that the Pastor should think 
 she was telling a lie. " You can go," he went 
 on. "I could not understand at first how it 
 was the letter was not in Maia Lisa's hand- 
 writing, but now this too is explained. You 
 can go and tell her that." 
 
 But Little-Maid did not go. " It was the 
 Pastor's wife who made me write the letter," 
 she said. " And it was the Pastor's wife who 
 shut me in the cupboard." 
 
 " Have you and Maia Lisa agreed to say that?" 
 The Pastor began to look angry, and she saw she 
 would be driven out if she could not think of 
 some way of convincing him. As she looked 
 round helplessly in every direction, she caught
 
 240 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 sight of the old crofter-woman just passing 
 the window. " See, there goes the messenger 
 who was sent to Svanskog with the letter," she 
 said. " You could ask her whether it was the 
 Pastor's wife or the Pastor's daughter who 
 asked her to take it." 
 
 The Pastor thought of answering that he 
 would hear no more about it, but he felt the 
 compelling force of Little-Maid's obstinacy. 
 He got up and went to the door. As he hastily 
 opened it he stumbled against someone who 
 was standing very close to it, and that some- 
 one was his wife. He glanced at her, stopped 
 and looked again as though to be quite sure 
 that it really was her, then went out to the 
 steps and asked the old peasant woman one 
 or two questions. When he came back, Fru 
 Raklitz had gone. He sat down by the writing- 
 table and called up Little-Maid. " Now you 
 shall tell me how everything happened when you 
 wrote the letter," he said. And Little-Maid 
 told her tale so clearly that he could not have 
 a shadow of doubt any longer. 
 
 " I see I have done you injustice, Nora Storm- 
 wind," said the Pastor, " and now as a reward 
 you may go down and tell Maia Lisa all about 
 it." 
 
 Little-Maid needed no second bidding. A 
 moment after she was down in the brewhouse 
 room where there was nothing but sorrow and 
 weeping, telling all her tale. At first the 
 Pastor's daughter scarcely listened, but at 
 last she understood that her father knew the 
 truth now, and then she sprang to her feet.
 
 The Accusation 241 
 
 "Grandmother, grandmother!" she cried, "I 
 mutt go and see how he is." But at that 
 moment the door opened and her father stood 
 on the threshold. And no longer the same 
 father as to-day and yesterday, but the father 
 of bygone years, a dear loving father who stood 
 waiting for her there with outstretched arms.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 THE REST STONE 
 
 A FEW days after the great upstir, Maia Lisa 
 was out at the usual time walking with 
 Little-Maid along the road. This evening she 
 was not walking along with dragging footsteps, 
 depressed in mind and weak in body, for instead 
 of only one there were two to call out to echo, 
 two to dig for mica in the sand-pit, two to 
 dam up the brook, and two to gather anemones 
 in the copse. She had not quite heart enough 
 yet to tease the owl though, so she left Little- 
 Maid at the big birch tree and went on alone 
 up the Rest Stone hill. The bird must have 
 been more sociable than usual that day, for 
 Little Maid did not join her again at the haunted 
 wall, nor afterwards either. 
 
 When Maia Lisa had come far enough to see 
 the Rest Stone she suddenly stopped, for there 
 sat a man, not in the narrow hollowed-out seat, 
 but right on the top of the stone itself. His 
 back was bent and IMS chin propped in his 
 hands ; his eyes, however, were not fixed on the 
 ground, but were looking away up into the tree- 
 tops. He was busy whistling to a thrush perched 
 on a tall pine across the road, and he answered it 
 and gave it back note for note until it sang as 
 
 242
 
 The Rest Stone 243 
 
 though its throat would burst. So intent were 
 they on their game, both man and bird, that 
 they never heard her coming. She stood still 
 for a moment listening and looking at him 
 with amazement. When she had met him 
 before, he must most certainly have been 
 weighed down with sorrow. Never until that 
 evening had she thought that he could not be 
 more than twenty-five years old. Now he 
 looked like a very boy. She was so astonished 
 at this that she could not refrain from a merry 
 laugh. 
 
 He turned his head to one side to listen, and 
 looked at the same time towards another tree- 
 top, as if he thought the sound was coming 
 from there. Then Maia Lisa laughed again 
 and now he heard what it was. Down he jumped 
 from the stone, and with eager steps came to 
 meet her. He had just been waiting for her, 
 he said. He had been to her friend Britta in 
 Lobyn to ask her how he could manage to see 
 Mamsell Maia Lisa by herself, and Britta had 
 told him that she was in the habit of coming 
 here to the Rest Stone every evening. 
 
 Her heart began to beat very fast as if it 
 expected some great happiness. Dear, dear! 
 how could it be so foolish ? It might have 
 known by now that he had come on no pleasant 
 business. No doubt he was going to speak 
 about his brother; probably repeat his sister- 
 in-law's proposal under more favourable cir- 
 cumstances. And it was as she thought. He 
 led her with some ceremony to the Rest Stone 
 and helped her up where he had been sitting,
 
 244 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 whilst he himself remained standing on the 
 path. Then he began to ask her very seriously 
 if it was really a fact that she did not care for 
 his brother. 
 
 And here again, as in Svanskog, she did not 
 know why she felt at once both touched and 
 angry, nor why her anger won the day so that 
 she answered very sharply that she did not 
 understand why he troubled to ask. Surely 
 he did not imagine that she could not be in his 
 brother's company a couple of hours without 
 falling in love with him ! He did not seem in 
 the least put out by her annoyance. It was 
 incredible that just before he had been sitting 
 there whistling to a thrush, for now he seemed 
 as serious as if he had some important business 
 on hand and had thought beforehand of every 
 word he meant to say. No doubt he looked 
 like that when he was selling iron or striking 
 a bargain with the coal-drivers. 
 
 He begged her not to think him impertinent, 
 but he had asked because he must know if her 
 heart was free before he went any further. 
 She was seized with an irresistible desire to 
 tease him and break down his air of certainty. 
 " It isn't a foregone conclusion," she inter- 
 rupted, " that my heart is free because I do 
 not care for Pastor Liliecrona. Yhere may be 
 others. . . ." 
 
 He bowed a little scornfully. "That is all 
 right," he said ; " and if there is the least 
 prospect that the one whom Mamsell Maia Lisa 
 is thinking of is likely to come and claim her 
 hand, I will not go on."
 
 The Rest Stone 245 
 
 The hot blood rushed to her cheeks, but she 
 looked straight into his sorrowful eyes as she 
 answered : " No, there is not the least pros- 
 pect." 
 
 " In that case I would like to ask Mamsell 
 Maia Lisa for advice," he said as he took 
 from his note-book a sealed and folded letter 
 which he held so that she could not see the 
 address. " Would Mamsell Maia Lisa advise 
 me to post this or to tear it up ? " 
 
 Maia Lisa made no answer. She could not 
 help thinking of the morning when he jumped 
 down into the fox-pit. Then it was a blow 
 here, a blow there, and all done in the twinkling 
 of an eye. " Why can't he jump quickly and 
 strike his blow so that I may know what he 
 means? What is the reason of all this cere- 
 mony ? '' 
 
 " This letter, Mamsell Maia Lisa," he con- 
 tinued, and his voice grew, if possible, still 
 colder and more business-like than before, 
 " is written by a young man who a few years 
 back stood at the grave of his heart's love and 
 vowed to go through life alone for her dear 
 sake. Since then the young man has never 
 thought for a moment of breaking his vow, 
 indeed he has never even felt the slightest 
 temptation to do so. He has left his heart in 
 the loved one's grave and it cannot live again. 
 But, Mamsell Maia Lisa, a few months ago, 
 this young man found a poor child sitting lonely 
 and desolate. In her eyes he read the mingled 
 gentleness and humility of her heart, and was 
 even more astounded by her strange likeness
 
 246 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 to his lost love. He felt at once the greatest 
 sympathy and seemed to hear the voice of her 
 whom he had lost whispering that he must 
 help in her loneliness the young girl who was 
 her very image. The young man tried to bring 
 her into union with the noblest man he knew 
 his own brother. He saw them meet, saw them 
 sit together on the same hearth, saw visions 
 of the greatest happiness for them both, when 
 these visions were destroyed by the most un- 
 happy circumstances. His brother was first 
 thrown into the most terrible misery, and, in 
 the attempt that was made to save him, the 
 young girl was brought without any fault of 
 hers into a position of the greatest difficulty. 
 Every day now the young man seemed to hear 
 the voice of his lost love calling to him from 
 the grave at least to offer the maid a share in 
 his home, where he would try with the tenderest 
 care to secure her happiness, and where she 
 would be safely guarded from the cruel hand 
 that now oppressed her. Under these cir- 
 cumstances, dearest Mamsell Maia Lisa, the 
 young man wrote this letter. He meant to 
 send it off this morning, but then he hesitated. 
 He felt, Mamsell Maia Lisa, he must first hear 
 your opinion." He stopped and with his last 
 word laid the letter down upon her lap, so 
 that she could read the address : "To the 
 Learned and Reverend Assistant Pastor, Heir 
 Erik Lyselius." 
 
 Never, no never in all her life had Maia Lisa 
 felt so humiliated. When he had done what 
 she never expected, when he had asked for her
 
 The Rest Stone 247 
 
 hand, to think he had done it in this fashion ! 
 Simply because he was sorry for her ! 
 
 Her first impulse was to jump up, tear the 
 letter into fragments and throw them in his 
 face. She was more angry with him than she 
 had been with her father when he married 
 Raklitz. And the thought flashed through hei 
 mind : "I am evidently made so that I cannot 
 be really angry except with those I love." But 
 Maia Lisa had gone through much since the 
 day when she had flared up at her father and 
 his wife and could now restrain herself in quite 
 another way. She only slipped down from the 
 stone, let the letter fall to the ground, and began 
 to go down the hill without a word. 
 
 And she walked on a good way, right up to 
 the stone wall, without anyone following her. 
 And as she walked she noticed what a beautiful 
 evening it was. The birds were singing in the 
 trees, the midges dancing in the breeze, the 
 sunbeams playing on the fresh young leaves, 
 the streams rippling and murmuring beside 
 the path, whilst plants and grass were sprouting 
 on every hand, so gay and green that she 
 almost thought she could hear them growing. 
 But all this only seemed to increase her wrath. 
 Surely he might have understood that on such 
 an evening he ought to come in the right way 
 if he was coming at all. If only he had had the 
 sense to let it alone. She would have been less 
 unhappy just walking and thinking of him. 
 
 He might have had the sense, too, to find out 
 how things were with her before he put this 
 shame upon her. If he had known that she
 
 248 Lilieciona's Home 
 
 was reconciled with her father and that her 
 stepmother had run away the very day that 
 he and Fru Beata Liliecrona had come to 
 Lovdala, run away without a word and never 
 come back again, perhaps he might have 
 spared his pity. But in any case it would have 
 made no difference. If she had been in the 
 greatest distress she would have been just as 
 angry with him for asking her to marry out of 
 pity only. She would not have been so angry 
 with anyone else, not even with his brother, 
 if he had done the same. 
 
 Suddenly she stopped. Why was she so 
 angry with him ? The answer came like a 
 revelation. Surely because she loved him ! 
 
 Yes, oh yes ! This then was love. She had 
 read of it in her books, sung of it in her songs, 
 but never before had she felt it in her own heart. 
 No doubt it had lain smouldering, a tiny spark 
 within her soul, all the spring, but she had not 
 recognised it. Now love shot through her like 
 a consuming fire until she almost wondered 
 that its brightness did not shine through and 
 around her. She turned round. Everything 
 was so changed in a moment. Love burnt in 
 her heart and since that miracle had happened 
 she was no longer the same. She could not 
 keep her anger against the man who had taught 
 her what love was. 
 
 He had followed her and was close behind, 
 so that as she turned quickly she found herself 
 face to face with him. 
 
 Surely such a fire as that within her must 
 be infectious. Its reflection flamed in his
 
 The Rest Stone 249 
 
 eyes, or was that perhaps not reflection only ? 
 It almost seemed too bright. She was still so 
 inexperienced, but the vehemence with which 
 he pressed her to his bosom seemed to her of 
 the same nature as the longing that drove her 
 there. 
 
 Her astonishment was so great that she 
 scarcely knew if she dared to trust her senses. 
 But the words that he uttered in broken 
 sentences, these eager questions if she loved him, 
 this breathless confession that he had loved 
 her from the very first but had been ashamed 
 of his weakness, this angry remorse that he 
 had tried to deceive himself and run away from 
 his love, this defiant speech that he troubled 
 neither about the living nor the dead if only she 
 loved him could these come from a heart not 
 burning for her with the same fire that for his 
 sake was consuming her own ?
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 THE WATER SPIRITS IN LOVDALA 
 
 P?ELAX stood in the porch, barking and 
 howling all night long. Little-Maid had 
 never heard him do the like before, and not a 
 wink could she sleep. No doubt Mamsell Maia 
 Lisa was lying awake too, much as she needed 
 a good night's rest whilst she was so delicate. 
 Little-Maid felt she must try to quiet the dog. 
 So she threw on her skirt and jacket and slipped 
 through the kitchen into the hall. Before she 
 had managed to turn all the locks and pull 
 back the bolts on the front door the dog had 
 stopped, but she went out all the same to coax 
 huii in. It was strange she could not see him. 
 She was certain he had been in the porch all 
 night, but now, when she had had the trouble 
 of getting up, of course he was gone. She 
 went right out to the steps and called and 
 called, but there was not a sign of him any- 
 where. 
 
 It was a beautiful night. The sky was covered 
 with tiny white clouds lying in wreaths and 
 circles as though they were playing some grace- 
 ful games when nobody was looking. The sun 
 had not yet managed to climb up above the 
 mountain, but for all that it was broad daylight. 
 
 250
 
 The Water Spirits in Lovdala 251 
 
 It was not the least chilly, but so soft and 
 mild that she did not feel cold although she 
 had come out with bare feet. The row of six 
 great rowans standing before the dairy, with 
 their intermingling branches looking like a 
 green wall, were in full bloom. The great 
 clusters of white blossom brightened up the 
 green background like stars shining in their 
 beauty on the darkness of a wintry sky. 
 
 Perhaps it was only in contrast to the fresh 
 green of the early spring, but Little-Maid thought 
 the houses round about looked one and all so 
 old and dilapidated. 
 
 She looked at the loft over the stable, at the 
 semicircular windows of the dairy peeping 
 out from under the blackened thatch, and at 
 the crooked brewhouse door. It all looked so 
 sad in the beautiful spring night as though 
 it were sighing over its age. She looked at the 
 men's house with its stone foundations, and at 
 the barn standing on its wooden posts, at the 
 many gates now all closed and fastened, and 
 at the long rows of fences. 
 
 They were so old that they all hung awry, 
 and leant this way and that. The roof beams 
 were bent, the walls grey with green moss 
 growing in their crannies. It was the first time 
 that Little-Maid had thought that the house 
 with all belonging to it was old and needed 
 repair or even building afresh. But such 
 thoughts only come in the spring when trees, 
 bushes, and fields are all decked out in their 
 fresh green garments. Perhaps for houses 
 too there is something corresponding to winter
 
 252 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 and spring, although they may not follow in 
 such quick succession as for trees and bushes. 
 It would be spring for a house, when young 
 people came to it, pulled down all that was old 
 and built it up anew. And winter, when the 
 young folk grew old and what they had built 
 was worn out and longing for fresh young 
 strength to pull down once more and put up 
 afresh. It was strange, thought Little-Maid, 
 that such ideas should come into her mind. 
 But then the night was strange too, so warm 
 and close and full of mystery. She almost felt 
 afraid and was going to hurry in, when she 
 remembered the dog again. 
 
 As she looked round on all sides to find out 
 where he had got to, she thought she saw 
 something moving on the grass plot under the 
 rowan trees. Now Little-Maid had lived in the 
 depths of the dark forest and gone errands for 
 her mother both early and late, but she had 
 never either seen, or expected to see, anything 
 out of the ordinary. Mother had always said 
 she need not be afraid, she was not the kind to 
 meet either ghost or troll. All the same she 
 saw something remarkable now, without a 
 shadow of doubt. She was a little taken aback, 
 but not so easily frightened as that. Besides, 
 there was nothing to be afraid of, only some 
 little people dancing. 
 
 There were just two, a gentleman and lady, 
 both about as tall as a six-year-old child, but 
 very slim and delicately made. They were 
 both dressed as nobles of the highest rank, in 
 black velvet with lace and gold braid. The
 
 The Water Spirits in Lovdala 253 
 
 gentleman had a three-cornered hat, a sword 
 at his side, a silk-embroidered coat, and buckles 
 on his shoes. The lady wore very full, short 
 skirts, red stockings, a large hat with feathers, 
 and carried a fan in her hand. They did nothing 
 but dance. He took her hand and with up- 
 lifted arms they tripped forward a little way, 
 then turned and tripped back again. They 
 parted, then met again, bowed, and last of 
 all threw their arms round each other and 
 waltzed in a circle. 
 
 Little-Maid was absolutely certain that it 
 was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. 
 How pleasant it was to watch them as they 
 simply flew over the grass. No human beings 
 could dance like that, but these dancers seemed 
 light as air itself. Their faces looked like the 
 finest china, and they had tiny hands and feet. 
 How sweet and delicate they were to be sure ! 
 
 She really could not tear herself away as long 
 as they kept on dancing, so there she stood, 
 wondering why they were so gay and dancing 
 so merrily just on that night. Well, perhaps it 
 was not so much to be wondered at. No doubt 
 they were the good tomtes of Lovdala, and were 
 delighted that things had gone back to the good 
 old ways since Raklitz had run away. When 
 Little-Maid saw the dance she was more than 
 ever inclined to believe the truth of what Long- 
 Bengt had said. He was the last to see Raklitz. 
 He had met her late on Saturday evening down 
 in the Black Lake meadows. She was looking 
 very wild, just as she had done when he had 
 first seen her, and he insisted indeed said he
 
 254 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 would swear in any court of law that he had 
 seen her go down into the waters of the Black 
 Lake brook. Perhaps then the good little 
 people were glad that the cruel, deceitful " water 
 spirit " had lost her power over Lovdala. 
 
 What masters of dancing they were to be sure ! 
 Why did other people lie sleeping in the light 
 nights instead of dancing on the green grass? 
 Why were other folk not so gay and happy? 
 Why oppressed with so many cares that they 
 could not forget ? 
 
 Little-Maid heard a dull thud in the house 
 as of something heavy falling, and ran back 
 into the hall. There she stood listening, but 
 could hear nothing more. Still she was certain 
 the noise had come from the west room where 
 the Pastor used to sit. She hurried with all 
 the speed she could to the Pastor's daughter 
 and begged her to get up, for the Pastor was 
 certainly not well. 
 
 Mamsell Maia Lisa hastily threw on some 
 clothes as she asked Little-Maid what had 
 happened. Little-Maid hurriedly told her how 
 she had been standing watching the two dancers 
 when she had heard a heavy fall. 
 
 The Pastor's daughter turned deathly pale. 
 " Those two never come except when Lovdala 
 is to have a new master," she said; "but I 
 do not think anyone has ever seen them dancing 
 before." 
 
 She had only managed to get on one shoe, 
 but she left off dressing and hurried to the west 
 room. 
 
 There lay the Pastor motionless, full length
 
 The Water Spirits in Lovdala 255 
 
 upon the floor. " What is it, dear Father, what 
 is it ? " said the Pastor's daughter as she 
 bent down over him. 
 
 In a second she looked up to Little-Maid 
 who had come with her. " Dear Father is dead," 
 she said. " We must say our thanks to him 
 now, it may be he is not too far away to hear us." 
 
 She kissed his hand very tenderly and 
 whispered a few words into his ear. Then Little- 
 Maid had to kiss his hand too. Then the 
 Pastor's daughter got up and looked round as 
 if to see what had happened at the last. He 
 had been sitting at his writing, for his pen was 
 still wet. No doubt he had felt ill whilst he 
 was working, and when he had risen to go to 
 the bell and call for help he had fallen to the 
 ground. His sermon lay on the table half 
 written, and the last lines of trembling, broken 
 characters straggled across the page. The 
 Pastor's daughter read them in a low voice : 
 " When the labourer's task is ended he longs 
 for rest, and rejoices that a better man is to 
 take his place." 
 
 And the tears came pouring from her eyes 
 as she said : "I know now why they were 
 dancing for dear Father. They knew he longed 
 to go. They knew he wanted to be free."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THE HOME 
 
 r I ^HE Pastor's daughter was sitting, in the 
 1 kitchen parlour with her Bible and 
 Psalm-book before her, searching God's Word 
 for comfort in her heavy trouble. It was 
 early morning, and scarcely twenty-four hours 
 had passed since she had found her father lying 
 dead upon the floor. All through the day 
 there had been so much to see to, that she had 
 had no time to think of her loss. But with the 
 night grief had come in all its bitterness and 
 driven sleep from her eyes, so she had risen 
 before anyone else and begun to read. 
 
 But very soon she closed her books and with 
 folded hands thanked God that she was no 
 longer lonely and forsaken, but had a true friend 
 who could help and protect her. Her step- 
 mother would be sure to come back now and 
 take possession of the property, and if she had 
 not had him she would be completely in her 
 power and then she would have needed her 
 tears indeed, not only for her father, but for 
 herself as well. Scarcely had the thought 
 passed through her mind than she heard a 
 soft and beautiful music outside the window 
 that overlooked the garden. 
 
 256
 
 The Home 257 
 
 She knew who the player was, for had she 
 not sent a message to him yesterday ? She 
 wondered for a moment if it were quite fitting 
 for him to play outside a house of mourning, 
 but in a second she brushed the doubt aside. 
 He did not find it easy to express himself in 
 words, so he had come with his violin. It was 
 no more unfitting for him to tell her of his 
 sympathy in that way than in any other. 
 
 She was sitting with her back to the window, 
 so she could not see him, nor did she dare to 
 move. This was the first time she had heard 
 him play, for she could not count the tunes 
 he had fiddled in Svanskog. And even in the 
 midst of her sorrow she could not help a little 
 feeling of joy that he had taken to his bow 
 again. She knew it was his deep love for her 
 that had given him the power to do it. 
 
 To think that mortal man could play like 
 that, could conjure forth such sounds of beauty 
 from a bow and strings ! 
 
 He played so sadly, so very sadly, that great 
 tears began to flow down her cheeks. But 
 just as they did so, the music entirely changed. 
 It was no longer gentle and consoling, but now 
 she felt, although she could not quite under- 
 stand it, that it had grown wild and full of 
 terrible despair. 
 
 She grew more and more astonished. That 
 was no fitting dirge for her father, the father 
 who had always been happy himself and tried 
 to bring happiness to others. He would never 
 dwell on sadness or torment. As soon as he 
 found that life was black and complicated he
 
 258 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 had left it and gone away. Of course, their 
 own hearts could not but be filled with longing, 
 and a sense of loss, but there must always, 
 too, be brightness in their remembrance of 
 him. 
 
 No : she could no longer believe that he was 
 playing to comfort her. He was using his bow 
 now for someone else, to tell of another's 
 sorrow, another's despair. How rightly was 
 he called a master ! Little as she knew of 
 music, she could understand him as though he 
 were speaking in the plainest words. And what 
 a bitter plaint it was, the plaint of one covered 
 with the blackest night, of one passing through 
 deep waters, and tormented by the consuming 
 fires of affliction. And there was no strong 
 arm to lift him to the light, no redeemer to set 
 him free, no saviour to quench the fires of 
 torture. What sorrow oppressed her heart ! 
 In her anguish it seemed as though it must burst. 
 If some great sinner in the nethermost depths 
 of hell had taken the violin in his hands, surely 
 he would have uttered his woe in such tones as 
 these. But this man standing out there ! 
 Of whose sorrow was he telling of his own or 
 another's ? 
 
 She waited for a change, for the player to 
 strike a new note, but her hope was vain. He 
 played nothing but an ever-growing misery, 
 no longer in notes of beauty, but in screams of 
 discord. She could not sit and listen any 
 longer ; surely he must have met with the most 
 terrible misfortune, so she opened the window 
 to question him. No sooner did he see her
 
 The Home 259 
 
 than he stopped with a wilder note than any 
 before. His hat had fallen off during his wild 
 music, and his hair lay low across his brow. 
 His face was as pale as a sick man's, and every 
 feature was drawn with pain. 
 
 " You said you wanted to hear me play," he 
 said. " Now you have had your wish, and 
 know what it sounds like." His tone was so 
 sharp, alas ! and his speech so violent, that 
 she was forced to believe he was angry with her. 
 The very thought was such a shock to her, 
 that she dared not open her lips to ask what 
 had happened. 
 
 He went on with the same violence : " You 
 have never heard me before perhaps you did 
 not even know who it was playing ? '' 
 
 Something prompted her to say : "I thought 
 it was the evil one himself." 
 
 " Have you heard him then ? " 
 
 " He will surely play like one who longs for 
 salvation, yet knows it can never be his." 
 
 When he heard this he came nearer to her, 
 until he was so close that she could have 
 stroked the lock of hair from his brow if only 
 she had dared. " You are right," he said ; 
 " that is true enough. And for me, too, the 
 gates of heaven are locked ! " And covering 
 his face with his hands he sobbed aloud. 
 
 How heartbreaking it was ! How gladly she 
 would have given her heart's blood to ease the 
 pain that tortured him. "What is it? What 
 is it ? ''' she asked. " Have you done any 
 wrong ? Have you taken anyone's life by 
 accident ? "
 
 260 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 She stopped short, conscious that this was 
 the very last thing she should have asked. 
 
 He uncovered his face and shook his clenched 
 fist. " I am a murderer, I know. For a time 
 I went through that every night ; I played the 
 death dance for her, and she danced until she 
 fell down and died. So it is plain enough what 
 I am." 
 
 No answer was possible. It was best to let 
 him go on, now he had once begun. 
 
 " This last winter I have not played for her, 
 and that is why I have dared to make love 
 to you. I thought it was her wish, but it was 
 not hers, but only my own." 
 
 She did not venture to speak as she stretched 
 out her hand to put it on his forehead to calm 
 him, but he started back beyond her reach. 
 
 " You ought never to have asked me to play 
 never never ! Rather have cut through the 
 strings when you heard me begin, for the notes 
 brought everything back to life again." And he 
 broke into a wild and terrible laugh. " I 
 came over as soon as I got your message, and 
 brought the violin with me, for I thought it 
 would comfort you better than I could. But 
 once it had begun, all the past came back again. 
 I saw the great room, full of stamping, breathless 
 couples, and amongst them I saw one dancing so 
 lightly, and with such grace, that she seemed 
 to be a different being from the others. And 
 then I played for her only for her. And I 
 drove her to her death." And he wrung his 
 hands until every joint and finger cracked. 
 " And to think I could ever forget that ! To
 
 The Home 261 
 
 think I could escape the pangs of remorse and 
 find happiness ; escape, too, from the vow I had 
 taken on her grave ! I was surely bewitched, 
 and had forgotten everything until the violin 
 brought it back." 
 
 Maia Lisa felt she no longer existed for him. 
 Yet she tried to make one attempt to defend 
 herself and her love. 
 
 " Have you quite forgotten me now ? I, 
 too, have your vow." 
 
 " You only have it because I thought it 
 was her wish. Now I know better. She wishes 
 to have me for herself alone, you see. You 
 must let me go ! " 
 
 "Dear heart!" she answered, "how can I 
 let you go ? I have no one but you. If it 
 were a living woman who claimed you, I might 
 do it, but I cannot see why I should give you 
 up to a dead one." 
 
 There must have been something in her tone 
 that touched him. He looked up at her, and 
 the dark, terrible expression died out of his 
 face. He still stood holding his violin and bow, 
 and though he evidently felt them a burden 
 he would not put them on the ground but 
 handed them to Maia Lisa. She took them both 
 in silence, and laid them on a table in the room. 
 
 When she came back to the window he seized 
 both her hands and held them pressed against 
 his brow, as though to ask her to feel what 
 wild, hot thoughts were chasing through his 
 brain. Then he began to speak in a tone of 
 infinite sorrow, and with many a pause, indeed, 
 but yet somewhat more like his old self again.
 
 262 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 "No, Maia Lisa, you must not think I meant 
 what I said just now. It is not in the least 
 for my own sake that I ask you to let me go. 
 I cannot be so lost to all sense of right as to 
 drag you down into my misery. You have 
 seen now what I am like when I am in the grip 
 of this terrible sorrow of remorse, and you 
 cannot still wish to join your life to mine ? " 
 
 He stopped, as though to hear her answer, 
 but in her grief and terror she knew not what 
 to say, so he continued : "I know so well what 
 your life is like, and I would desire above all 
 else to stand by your side now your father has 
 gone. But you must consider that the harsh- 
 ness you suffer at your stepmother's hands is 
 nothing in comparison with the misery that 
 awaits you in a union with me. Such remorse 
 sometimes overpowers me that I cannot stay at 
 home, but wander far from the sight of man, 
 for weeks together, in the desolate places of the 
 earth. Sometimes, too, I try to find forgetful- 
 ness in the wildest excesses. Alas ! alas ! you 
 cannot but know, Maia Lisa, that I love you 
 too dearly to drag you down to that. I ought 
 never to have come near you, and I never 
 would have done, had I not thought I was 
 cured ! " Again he stopped, but when no answer 
 came he went on again : 
 
 " Just now I was almost angry with you, 
 because it was for your sake I had played, and 
 it was playing, that taught me how heavy and 
 dark a fate still hung over me. I wished that I 
 had remained in ignorance, and that I had 
 married you in the belief that all was right.
 
 The Home 263 
 
 But that, you must know, was only for a 
 moment, for I love you too dearly alas ! too 
 dearly indeed ! to wish you ever to be my 
 wife." 
 
 All the time he was speaking Maia Lisa 
 stood looking down at him. She knew what 
 he said was true, knew he did suffer from such 
 terrible melancholy, that it was quite possible 
 she would be far more unhappy if she married 
 him than if she came once more under her step- 
 mother's rule. Yet she could think of nothing 
 but that she must stand by his side to help him 
 in his need. 
 
 " Alas ! " she said, " do you not know that 
 I would far rather bear sorrow and misfortune 
 with you than live a life of unmixed joy with 
 anyone else ? You shall never leave me if it 
 is true that you love me. How could I . . ." 
 
 She stopped, for she saw her words had no 
 effect upon him. " Alas! " she thought, " how 
 shall I make him understand that the greatest 
 misery for me would be not to follow him and 
 help him in his need?" 
 
 " All this year," she thought again, " I have 
 been enduring the greatest trouble and anxiety. 
 Surely, I must have learnt something from it ? 
 I cannot be any longer such a child as I was 
 when I lost dear Father. I will never complain 
 of my suffering, if only it has taught me how 
 I may keep for my own the man that I love." 
 She lifted her eyes and looked over the orchard, 
 as if seeking someone to help her. And as she 
 looked, she was filled with astonishment at 
 the sight that lay before her. Perhaps she had
 
 264 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 had no eyes to notice such things yesterday, or 
 perhaps it had just come to pass in a night. 
 At any rate, she had not seen until now that 
 all her father's apple-trees were in full blossom. 
 It looked like a great roof of pink and white, 
 stretching from the house right away down to 
 the birch grove that sheltered the orchard from 
 the north wind. Every branch was covered 
 with flowers that opened more and more, so 
 it seemed to her, as she looked at them. 
 
 How the bees buzzed and hummed amongst 
 the bright, fragrant blossoms. The sun had 
 reached the mountain heights, and his beams 
 gliding over the tree-tops were dancing over 
 the fields, as if impatient to pour over the 
 gay blossoms even more colour and brightness 
 than they already possessed. 
 
 As Maia Lisa looked at them, her heart was 
 ready to burst with sympathy. " Poor man, 
 poor man," she thought. " Is it any wonder 
 he is melancholy, when he has never had a home 
 since he was fourteen ? How different it would 
 be if he came to Lovdala ! What a good home 
 I could offer him here. I know what happy 
 days I have had here until this last year. 
 He should walk as happily under the apple- 
 trees as dear Father did in his time if only I 
 may take care of him ! " 
 
 Her cheeks glowed and her eyes shone at 
 the very thought. If she could only talk to 
 him about Lovdala, and make him under- 
 stand that it was just such a good home as 
 this that he needed. 
 
 She was roused from her thoughts by his
 
 The Home 265 
 
 dropping her hands, which he had held until 
 then. 
 
 " Now give me the violin and let me go," 
 he said. "I see you feel that I have no choice 
 in the matter." 
 
 She could not wonder that he thought she 
 was willing to let him go. For there she stood, 
 looking for the right words to keep him and 
 not able to find them. " Dear heart," she said 
 very hurriedly, " stay a little longer. Will you 
 not look round Lovdala a little ? Are not the 
 apple-blossoms lovely ? See how the golden 
 sunshine falls over the grass. Would you not 
 
 like ? " But there she stopped. Words 
 
 failed her. She had wanted to speak of the 
 beautiful home that they two would build 
 together here in Lovdala, but she felt that 
 he set no value on it. His idea of a beautiful 
 home was something very different from hers. 
 
 Once more he asked for the violin. Then, 
 he said, he would never cross her path again. 
 She pressed her hand to her heart with a heavy 
 sigh. So now he was going, never to cross her 
 path again ! And she could not find words to 
 move him. She could not keep him by her side. 
 She saw nothing for it but to obey him, so she 
 left the window to fetch what he wanted. 
 But when Maia Lisa had picked up the violin 
 she stood still for a moment, her mind filled 
 with new and wonderful thoughts. Here, in 
 her hand, she was holding what had the greatest 
 power over him. This violin had been his 
 strength and comfort in bygone days. She 
 understood at last she understood. That
 
 266 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 violin and the music he played upon it were 
 to Sven Liliecrona what Lovdala was to her. 
 Music and music alone was his home, his place 
 of rest. Here only could he find comfort 
 and refreshment. When he played, the tones 
 of his music made a refuge for him brighter 
 than any apple-blossom, than any sunshine 
 even. Then he entered into his true home, a 
 home that had been his refuge through all 
 the years of his lonely life. 
 
 In days gone by he had lived through hard 
 days, undismayed because he had his violin, 
 and it had only needed one stroke of his bow 
 to open the door of the world where he was 
 happy. But now he had fallen a prey to 
 melancholy, because for the last few years 
 he had not been able to play, because he had 
 been shut out from his home. Alas, how 
 miserable she would feel if she were driven from 
 Lovdala. How she would pine, away from her 
 own home ! And that, of course, was how he 
 felt. He could not settle down, he did not 
 know where to turn for rest and comfort. 
 Maia Lisa felt suddenly reassured. Now she 
 had discovered his sickness, she knew the 
 remedy as well. If she could but open the 
 door of his real home for him once more he 
 would be himself again, and conquer the ill 
 that now possessed him. She stepped up to 
 the window, but kept the violin in her hand. 
 
 " Dear friend," she said, " let me beg for 
 one thing only before you go. Take your 
 violin and play once more. I am certain 
 it was so hard for you just now because it
 
 The Home 267 
 
 was the first time since that unhappy night. 
 And I cannot think that it will always be like 
 that. Will you not try just once more, that I 
 may hear you properly? I am sure you will 
 conquer yourself and play for my sake. Why, 
 you said but just now that you had been free 
 of this melancholy all the winter, and thought 
 you were cured. And perhaps you are. You 
 must not think the evil has come back for 
 good. You would see, if you would only dare 
 to play once again, that . . ." 
 
 He shrugged his shoulders. "It is im- 
 possible," he replied. "It would only be ten 
 times worse." 
 
 But she persisted. " You will never have 
 to do anything for me again," she urged. 
 " Surely you will not refuse this one thing 
 when we are going to part. If you go away 
 without playing, you will be sorry afterwards 
 that you said 'No' to my very last request." 
 
 He did not look any more confident, yet 
 he yielded. " I know how it will end," he said, 
 " and so do you. Still, I will not refuse you." 
 
 Maia Lisa passed her hand lightly over the 
 violin, whispering, as she handed it to him : 
 " Dear thing, help me, oh help me now ! " 
 
 As Liliecrona took it, the dark cloud of misery 
 passed across his face, and when he drew his 
 bow across the strings, the notes sounded as 
 wild and discordant as before. He looked up 
 at Maia Lisa, as if to reproach her for enticing 
 him into this fresh misery. Her heart beat so 
 that she could scarcely bear it, but she would 
 show no fear. She kept her place by the window,
 
 268 Liliecrona's Home 
 
 and forced herself to look down at him with a 
 hopeful smile upon her lips. 
 
 And listen ! Surely the notes were already 
 less despairing, less unhappy. Light was coming 
 through the clouds, the prison wall was break- 
 ing down, and the captive soul was being set 
 free. Up they went in steady flight, but now, 
 alas, down they fell again. What a strife it 
 was, now down in the depths, until it seemed 
 impossible they should ever rise again ; then 
 up once more, rising, falling, falling, rising ! 
 But then, all at once, the melody soared 
 high as if on angels' wings, higher, ever higher 
 in its joy and praise, to the very gates of 
 heaven itself ; far above all human voice or 
 thought, up to the home of purest light. And 
 once there, how it tried to express the blessed- 
 ness revealed. 
 
 Suddenly Liliecrona let fall his bow as 
 though he could do no more. His music had 
 carried him up and up, until his strength 
 failed him in sight of such light, such power, 
 such glory. He looked up at Maia Lisa. Great 
 heavy tears filled her eyes as she stood with 
 clasped hands and transfigured face, no longer 
 on earth, but risen with him to heaven. He 
 drew a deep breath no, she had not gone 
 with him, she had flown up before. His music 
 had never before carried him so high ; it was 
 her love alone that had lifted him from the 
 darksome pit. It was indeed true that it 
 would be strong enough to lift him above all 
 life's darkness. He felt it, knew it would 
 conquer all fear, all mistrust.
 
 The Home 269 
 
 He drew her hands to his lips and kissed 
 them. 
 
 "Have you been in your true home?" she 
 whispered. 
 
 " Maia Lisa, dear one, my heart's love ! 
 Never once have I played like this before. 
 It was your heart, your love that played, not 
 I. Whether it bring you joy or misery," he 
 went on, " here I must stay. You must help 
 me ; you must not let me go." 
 
 And how silent it grew in the garden, amidst 
 the apple-trees shedding their blossoms above 
 them like a beauteous bridal veil. 
 
 FINIS 
 
 WILLIAM BRBNDON AND SOK, LTt>., PRINTERS, PLYMOUTH
 
 121202
 
 iiiiif 
 
 A 001413654