ANP 
 
 L 
 
 ALVILDE PP.YDZ 
 
 a
 
 SANPRIEL 
 
 The Promised L<and 
 
 BY 
 
 ALVILDE PRYDZ 
 
 Authorized translation from tht Ntrwteian 
 
 By HESTER CODDINGTON 
 
 BOSTON: RICHARD G. BADGER 
 
 TORONTO: THE COPP CLARK CO., LIMITED
 
 Copyright, 1914, by Richard G. Badger 
 All rights reserved 
 
 THE GORHAM PRESS, BOSTON, U. S. A.
 
 TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE 
 
 Alvilde Prydz ranks among the foremost lit- 
 erary representatives of Norway. Both Bjornson 
 and Ibsen considered her their greatest woman 
 writer. At different times Miss Prydz has been 
 honored by public grants of money, strong evi- 
 dence of the esteem in which she is held by her 
 countrymen. 
 
 Miss Prydz was born on the old family estate 
 of Tosterod in Southern Norway, where she spent 
 her early childhood. Through her father she is 
 descended from an old German family of nobility, 
 while on her mother's side she is connected with a 
 Danish family noted for its artistic gifts. 
 
 At the age of seventeen she accepted a position 
 as private teacher in a minister's family. Follow- 
 ing this came a period of study, then teaching 
 again, during which time she made a specialty of 
 music and the languages. Then came a break- 
 down, the result of overwork. 
 
 It was during the period of recuperation that 
 Miss Prydz began in earnest the literary work 
 which was destined to become her life-work. 
 
 The first of her works to win international fame 
 
 2118723
 
 TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE 
 
 was Guwvor, Thor's Daughter of Hard, which 
 came out in 1896 (published in England under 
 the title : The Heart of the Northern Sea} . 
 
 It was of this work that Bjornson said: " Oh, 
 take this strong book and read it. ... Here then, 
 at last, are pictured human beings quite different 
 from the . . . jellyfish creatures . . . which are 
 now being served up in literature . . ." He con- 
 tinues, saying that here she characterizes " human- 
 ity as it is on the street and in daily intercourse, 
 humanity without purpose or aspiration, humanity 
 in daily life." 
 
 What Bjornson said of Gunvor might likewise 
 be said of her other works, although they differ 
 greatly, both as regards style and method of treat- 
 ment. 
 
 Among the novels which have followed Gunvor 
 are Sylvia, The Children of Hard, In U he dale, 
 and While it was Summer. 
 
 Miss Prydz has produced several plays, one of 
 which, Aino, has been presented at the National 
 Theater in Christiania. 
 
 The first edition of the present work came out 
 in 1903 under the title, Det Lovede Land (The 
 Promised Land) . 
 
 The translator wishes here to express her sin- 
 cere appreciation of the kindly interest and ap- 
 proval which, since the first inception of this work,
 
 TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE 
 
 have been so cordially extended to her by the 
 author. 
 
 Also, she takes this opportunity to acknowledge 
 the great indebtedness which she feels towards 
 Professor Julius E. Olson, Head of the Scandina- 
 vian Department of the University of Wisconsin. 
 She not only thanks him for the advice and as- 
 sistance which have been at all times so generously 
 given, but particularly she feels that she owes to 
 him a debt of gratitude for having, by the in- 
 spiration of his teaching, revealed to her the depth 
 and beauty of Scandinavian thought and literature.
 
 And thou shalt remember all the way which 
 the Lord thy God hath led thee these forty years 
 in the wilderness. . . . And he humbled thee, 
 and suffered thee to hunger, and fed thee with 
 manna. . . . Thy raiment waxed not old upon 
 thee, neither did thy foot swell. . . . 
 
 For the Lord thy God bringeth thee into a good 
 land, a land of brooks of water, of fountains and 
 depths that spring out of valleys and hills a 
 land of wheat, and barley, and vines, and fig trees, 
 and pomegranates a land of oil, olive and 
 honey a land wherein thou shalt eat thy bread 
 
 without scarceness 
 
 THE FIFTH BOOK OF MOSES
 
 I 
 
 But the Lord said: Do you not see that the 
 animal is bleeding, and do you not hear how it 
 shrieks and moans? 
 
 But the disciples said: No, Lord, we do not 
 hear it shrieking and moaning. 
 
 The Coptic Bible
 
 There they lie in the blue haze, mountain above 
 mountain, a mighty stairway leading up to the 
 heights, where the valley is filled with the green 
 glittering glacier, where peak rises above peak, 
 far up into heaven's light. 
 
 There is a brightness up there the cold glow 
 of eternity. In dazzling lines it rises and fades 
 away, like a distant, alluring land which does not 
 belong to earth. 
 
 Down below lies Flyen, 1 which does belong to 
 earth. It hides away enticingly, then rises gently, 
 shifting in its thousand colors, warm and mysteri- 
 ous. In the peace of an early summer after- 
 noon it lies there, shimmering in the bright sun- 
 light, its slopes stretching of toward the horizon 
 like a sea of gold. 
 
 The sun wraps his beaming mantle about him 
 and makes ready to depart. The hills below 
 darken. The flowering rush closes its blossoms 
 and veils its green splendor. 
 
 But over there, on the broad, billowy slopes of 
 Flyen, all are not yet ready. 
 
 1 One of the plateaus peculiar to the mountains of Norway, 
 with a broad expanse of heath or moor.
 
 The beams play over the heather, the dwarf 
 birch flames up, the bright osier becomes rose 
 red. The air is piled with fragrance. From leaf 
 and branch, from the fresh earth it rises, like the 
 delicate, hidden sweetness of some mysterious 
 secret. 
 
 All who live on Fly en know about it. Their 
 minds are full of it. They can think of nothing 
 but the fact that the day has been so beautiful 
 this first great day of sunshine, with its brightness 
 covering the slopes like a flood. They are in- 
 deed reminded, all the little creatures of the fields, 
 that they must open their eyes and their slumber- 
 ing souls. 
 
 It is as if one mighty breath of joy had risen 
 from them all. It comes from the moss, from 
 heath and thicket, from river and lake. It rocks 
 in the warm, soft air, is fused with the light and 
 fragrance, is lost in sound, dies away. For they 
 all know the beautiful secret. A thousand soft 
 voices say to you: Summer is here. 
 
 The evening breeze arrives. He wants to 
 know what is going on. He steals over and listens 
 among the grass and heather. Then of he goes 
 into the forest and tells what he has heard. 
 
 Over Flyen the sun is sinking. 
 
 The slopes seem to move upward as the last 
 rays of light and the shadows together hasten 
 noiselessly over them.
 
 The warm glow in the blood changes. The 
 shadows lose their silvery glow. They no 
 longer move in gentle undulations; silent and 
 heavy, they sink down and are merged together. 
 
 Everything grows quiet. 
 
 With soft tread sound withdraws. 
 
 Cautiously the new moon lifts its horn. A 
 single ray touches it, then passes on. Again it 
 stands there vaguely shimmering. 
 
 All is silent and heavy and dark. 
 
 It is as if some one were going about closing 
 the doors and locking up. 
 
 And Flyen slumbers, deep and still, dreaming 
 without fear or regret, while the air spins her 
 silken web about peak and crag, covering the 
 earth with a rare and shining silver tissue, which 
 lies there in the summer night like long soft bil- 
 lows that have gone to rest.
 
 SANPRIEL
 
 SANPRIEL 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 DOWN on the slope toward the lake lies the 
 new Forest Home Hotel. In the evening 
 when the sun goes down one can see it from far 
 up the valley, there where the sun's rays strike 
 it. Even when the whole valley has grown dark 
 it still shines there in the light. 
 
 Softly the last beam glides over the lawn. 
 All the animals in the fields stop to listen, for the 
 air is filled with a strange speech. It is the wind 
 as it passes through the rushes bringing a message 
 from the river. It is the far-distant waterfall. 
 It is the deep soughing of the pines in the forest. 
 
 But the instant the sun sinks and day dies away 
 everything is quiet. It is a moment of silent 
 reverence. A mighty angelus bell calls the whole 
 earth to worship. 
 
 All bow their heads in silence all except 
 man. He is so intelligent, he knows that the sun 
 goes down every day, so it is nothing but an every- 
 day affair. He is so absorbed in his own noise 
 that he is always the last to become quiet. 
 
 17
 
 1 8 SANPRIEL 
 
 For that reason all the animals that could do 
 so have moved away from the fields and hills 
 below, up into Flyen, since the hotel has arrived. 
 
 At the foot of the steps stood Marit Hennerud 
 waiting for some one. Mother Hennerud never 
 appeared, but her daughter Marit did the honors 
 for her. 
 
 She stood there listening with a smile in her 
 dreamy brown eyes. She heard a carriage below 
 the hill and surmised that it was Fru Thora 
 Thammers with her son and daughter. She 
 could not quite keep the young man out of her 
 thoughts. If she were not too busy she usually 
 fell just a bit in love with each young man in turn 
 as he came. It had become a habit of hers. 
 
 Yes, it was they. For the moment she forgot 
 the young man. It was Fru Thammers who be- 
 came the recipient of the exuberant welcome which 
 Marit Hennerud always prepared for her guests. 
 
 " Will you not choose your apartments, Fru 
 Thammers? We have different cottages. I wish 
 they all had names, it is so amusing. Yes, this 
 is the main building, the Land of Goshen. 
 You'd better look around a little first. Yes I 
 must say we are unusually full this year fine 
 people, almost all distinguished, interesting, or 
 literary, ladies from the best society and noted 
 men, professors and such like. Here you can
 
 SANPRIEL 19 
 
 see no, this cottage is the only one where you 
 can't have a room. It is Mount Pisgah. The 
 man who lives here is so utterly so all the 
 ladies say ; but my, how they do enjoy him ! There 
 he goes. It is he, Omar Pasha, who has given a 
 name to everything. He won't have anyone else 
 here. He pays for the whole house. Wouldn't 
 you like a room in the Wilderness? That is 
 where our nicest ladies are. No, you won't want 
 this. This is Chaos where there are only young 
 folks. You would rather be with the older peo- 
 ple. Now I'll go after the keys." 
 
 " Yes, Mamma, it will be much pleasanter for 
 you if Birger and I stay here. But of course you 
 won't care to be here with the young people." 
 
 With a pained expression on her face Fru 
 Thammers turned toward her daughter. The 
 words cut her to the heart; and the voice, that 
 clear, hard voice which told everything so plainly 
 it was strange that she could never become ac- 
 customed to it. 
 
 " Dear Gertrude, it surely ought to be pleas- 
 anter for me in the company of my children,'' 
 she said, at the same time feeling with bitterness 
 that this was not so. 
 
 Just then Birger broke in with a laugh. 
 
 " Do you know, Mother, you are a queer one, 
 you certainly are! Now consider, we won't be 
 more than a hundred feet or so away, and your
 
 20 SANPRIEL 
 
 motherly care will be able to reach us even here. 
 So you can rest easy in the distinguished solitude 
 of the Wilderness." 
 
 He stood stretching his legs after the long car- 
 riage ride, at the same time trying to bite his 
 small mustache. He was just a trifle stout for 
 a young man of twenty-five. In mild surprise his 
 eyes followed Gertrude, who, with all the time 
 there was before her, had already gone around 
 examining everything in the most energetic way. 
 
 Gertrude was tall and erect. In her large blue 
 eyes was a cold, scornful expression. Like her 
 brother she had strong white teeth, very conspicu- 
 ous. 
 
 She came over toward her mother. 
 
 " It would be better for you to room over there. 
 It would be easier for you to get acquainted with 
 the old " 
 
 Fru Thammers was silent as Marit came with 
 the keys. She turned toward her. 
 
 "Give me what you have," she said in a low, 
 suppressed tone. 
 
 " Yes, I'm sure you'll like it best with the elite. 
 Then I have two rooms here for the young folks. 
 Yes, everything is ready. Supper is waiting. . . . 
 This way, Madame." 
 
 A fire of pine logs blazed in the great central
 
 SANPRIEL 21 
 
 hall with its raftered ceiling. Most of the guests 
 were gathered around the hearth in rustic chairs, 
 or sat on benches along the wall. 
 
 Among the chairs there was one, larger and 
 more comfortable than the rest, of heavy oak, 
 richly carved. This they said had been the mis- 
 tress' chair in the family for over two hundred 
 years. 
 
 It was always taken as a matter of course that 
 no one but Fru Thamar Gyllenskjold should sit 
 in that chair. 
 
 When she arrived a week before it was as if a 
 great sailing vessel had entered a small sea. 
 Huge waves were set in motion, and all the small 
 boats rocked in the swell. 
 
 Even Adjunct De Roch had succumbed; he who 
 that very day had maintained to the young ladies 
 that nature had not granted any special dispensa- 
 tion to woman on account of her sex. And al- 
 though no one could be more gallant than he, yet 
 at heart he thought that women ought to look up 
 to him with great respect. But in the presence 
 of Fru Gyllenskjold he suddenly became very 
 meek. He not only allowed her to take posses- 
 sion of the chair-throne, and establish a little court 
 as it were, but he took upon himself the position 
 of a sort of steward or upper chamberlain. 
 
 As usual, she sat there this evening gazing
 
 22 SANPRIEL 
 
 about as if everything belonged to her. She sat 
 leaning back, seemingly entirely absorbed in her 
 toy spaniel, the elegant little Princess Leyla. 
 
 This evening they were allowed to talk almost 
 as they pleased. Only now and then would one 
 of her brief, witty remarks show with what skill 
 she could turn the conversation in any direction 
 she wished. 
 
 Her eyes were like those of a doe, shining and 
 placid, and yet so changeable that if she barely 
 moved they would take on a different expression. 
 People thought there was so much in them, a world 
 of sincerity and goodheartedness; and often, as 
 to-night, a certain dreamy melancholy. 
 
 She was really so anxious about her husband, 
 for he was at Karlsbad and was not at all well. 
 It had come to her how much she thought of him 
 after all. Nor was she blind to the significance 
 of his salary and position in connection with her 
 own welfare. 
 
 Most of the others were gazing at her. She 
 was certainly magnificent to look upon, as she 
 sat there in her Nile-green velvet gown, with head 
 slightly bowed, displaying the heavy, ash-blond 
 hair arranged in Madonna style. 
 
 She sat playing with Leyla's silky white ears. 
 By her side sat Adjunct De Roch, an elegant, red- 
 cheeked blond, with mild blue eyes and a con- 
 tinual little falsetto laugh. His hands were
 
 SANPRIEL 23 
 
 white and adorned with rings, his smile conde- 
 scending. 
 
 Yet he sat there now in his mild way fulminat- 
 ing against the egotism of the times. He could 
 not endure egotism in anyone, in his wife, or his 
 friends, or anyone else. There was nothing that 
 aroused his anger to such a degree as the egotism 
 of another person. 
 
 His wife sat by his side. She seldom said 
 anything. Out of pure good nature she had ac- 
 customed herself to remain silent. 
 
 The company had gathered in various groups. 
 
 Professor Maurus, a big, heavy-set man with 
 a beard that covered the corners of his mouth, 
 walked up and down the room with elevated chin 
 and inflated chest, discussing the reality of matter. 
 He was fond of discussing the reality of matter. 
 If one were only logical then everything was clear. 
 
 A slender young doctor walked beside him with 
 noiseless tread, seeming hardly to belong to earth. 
 He was in fact a genius, and looked down upon 
 everything from such a height that in reality he 
 knew nothing of the affairs of this world. His 
 cautious, scientific mode of expression the profes- 
 sor took to be youthful modesty, and it was a 
 great pleasure to him to have a chance to pre- 
 sent once more his arguments concerning cause 
 and effect. 
 
 Fru Maurus sat in great dignity, her eyes fol-
 
 24 SANPRIEL 
 
 lowing her husband with a kindly expression of 
 melancholy. For he was wonderful, Maurus, 
 when he was thus explaining the plans of the 
 Creator but he was not entertaining. Beside 
 her were some ladies who were conversing to- 
 gether. 
 
 Fru Captain Fehr always wanted to converse 
 about spiritual matters. She had discovered that 
 her Christian faith was in a bad way and had set 
 herself to right it by joining various associations. 
 She had found herself greatly benefited, but never- 
 theless had come to the conclusion that religion 
 was something that must not be meddled with too 
 much. 
 
 Fru School-director Sahm knew perfectly well 
 that in addition to a noble old nose she had great 
 natural gifts. She had a burning desire to talk 
 about profound subjects. She liked to get some- 
 one over in a corner, preferably a man, and keep 
 him there all to herself, while with nervous energy 
 she would pour forth all that she knew about art 
 of the past, of the present, or of the future 
 about China, Japan, America about what 
 morality was, and who really were the standard 
 bearers of civilization. 
 
 To-night she had to be satisfied with Fru Iver- 
 sen, Fru Really-Wholesale-dealer Iversen, as one 
 of the gentlemen had dubbed her, because she had 
 once found it necessary to assert her position.
 
 SANPRIEL 25 
 
 But Fru Iversen was not the worst that could 
 happen. Fru Iversen understood her. 
 
 " It must be a wonderful satisfaction, to be able 
 to get into one's right place in the world yes, 
 that I can safely say." 
 
 Of course Fru Iversen was right about it, but 
 Fru Liss was just impossible. And Fru Liss was 
 almost always somewhere annoyingly near. 
 
 Fru Liss, otherwise Fru Wanda Arescho, was 
 a little beauty with a Cupid's bow of a mouth and 
 indefinite, half-awake eyes that could at times take 
 on the most soulful expression, without their 
 owner being in the least aware of it, for it was 
 purely a physical accident. Then she had such 
 an exquisite complexion. It was quite the usual 
 thing for the men to lose their hearts to her. 
 
 For the moment she was graciously receiving 
 the homage of an elegant young man whom Fru 
 Gyllenskjold had christened Don Miguel de Aran- 
 jas, the real name of the wicked Don Juan. 
 
 Fru Liss had a reputation among the ladies for 
 saying stupid things; but to the men she always 
 gave pleasure. 
 
 Yet even the most observant among them was 
 never quite sure about her mental faculties. No 
 one was ever allowed to say anything unpleasant 
 about her. They found her fascinating and 
 eivig weiblich. Many of them also thought her 
 remarkably profound because she was so charm-
 
 26 SANPRIEL 
 
 ing. Then she had just the dearest little trick 
 of trying to be shocking, although in a most fool- 
 ish way; but one could easily overlook that in one 
 who was so charming. 
 
 She came to the mountains every summer for 
 the sake of her health, although she was undoubt- 
 edly destined for a long life. 
 
 At any rate she was intelligent enough to look 
 out for herself. That was her one talent. Her 
 desire for work was satisfied by watching others. 
 She loved her husband. He was such a dear, and 
 he understood her. It was so annoying that he 
 never seemed to think he had time to come up 
 with her. In her eyes he was a very ingenious 
 contrivance which, besides contributing to her wel- 
 fare in all sorts of ways, also had the faculty of 
 bringing forth in a wonderfully quick fashion any- 
 thing for which she might happen to wish. 
 
 Don Miguel sat twisting his heavy mustache 
 with graceful movements of the hand and gazing 
 at her. How irresistible she was as she dis- 
 coursed on all those remarkable subjects! For 
 there was nothing between heaven and earth she 
 would not venture to discuss with Don Miguel, 
 although she knew he was so unspeakably learned. 
 But there was one thing Fru Liss could not en- 
 dure. That was for anyone to find fault with 
 conditions here in this world, and especially in her 
 dear Christiania.
 
 SANPRIEL 27 
 
 Among other things, Fru von Asten was espe- 
 cially given to doing that. So Fru Liss turned to- 
 ward her with almost open anger in her big blue 
 eyes. 
 
 " My dear, that is really only a woman's argu- 
 ment. Everything certainly goes along there as 
 it ought to go. Indeed it is our best men who 
 have charge of things, so they are certainly well 
 managed. I thought everyone knew that our pro- 
 fessors were most exceptional, quite different from 
 other places for example, where they are 
 only " 
 
 Fru von Asten had no chance to learn anything 
 further on that point, for suddenly Fru Liss 
 stopped. It was not the easiest thing in the world 
 to contradict Fru von Asten. Some unfortunate 
 beings up there had discovered to their sorrow 
 that she resembled a little wild beast. Not even 
 her best friends could be certain that the small 
 claws were sheathed. Even though she might 
 repeatedly call one " My dear friend," it was with 
 difficulty that she refrained entirely from using 
 her claws. But when she addressed anyone as 
 " My angel," then all knew that the claws were in 
 full activity. 
 
 On their arrival she and her husband, Whole- 
 sale-merchant Stern, had been the occasion of 
 much wonderment; in the first place because she 
 had gone back to the good old custom of keeping
 
 28 SANPRIEL 
 
 her own name, and in the second place because 
 she had chosen her quarters in the main building, 
 while her husband roomed in a little cottage all by 
 himself. By the second day, however, no one 
 wondered any longer. 
 
 He had been dubbed Omar Pasha almost im- 
 mediately. As usual it was Fru Gyllenskjold who 
 did it. No one could tell why, but they all found 
 the name appropriate. 
 
 Fru von Asten laughed at them. She thought 
 women were stupid; and as for her husband, she 
 had an unspeakable contempt for him. It would 
 have been difficult for her to tell why, but then 
 that was not necessary. 
 
 This evening Fru von Asten was more than 
 usually occupied. She was engaged in conver- 
 sation with a young engineer, a man heroic in 
 size, with sleepy blue eyes and a light mustache. 
 He posed before her like Mars at rest. It was 
 interesting to watch him. He impressed her. 
 
 Above all the confusion and noise were heard 
 the falsetto tones of Adjunct De Roch's voice. 
 He had discovered how simple everything was 
 after all. Human beings were very easy to un- 
 derstand and direct, particularly children. It 
 was merely a matter of giving them a good foun- 
 dation and starting them in the right direction. 
 They would always be thankful for it. His wife 
 smiled appreciatively.
 
 SANPRIEL 29 
 
 At that moment Fru Thammers entered the 
 room. 
 
 There was a slight lull in the conversation; 
 even an entirely new theory concerning the origin 
 of new stars was checked for the moment. 
 
 They knew who she was ; the young people had 
 come in before. Yet everyone must have a look 
 at her. One practical soul stirred up the pine 
 knots so that the light of the flame fell on the 
 slender, slightly bent lady who came gliding across 
 the room toward her children. 
 
 Some of the near-sighted, learned gentlemen 
 stared at her a moment and discovered that the 
 fine figure was not without a certain charm; but 
 she was no longer young. They missed that irre- 
 sistible something which appeals even to men of 
 learning, so they returned to their hypotheses con- 
 cerning the new stars. 
 
 Yet there were some who were farther sighted. 
 They saw that she was one of those who needed 
 to be studied a little. Then she became quite in- 
 teresting. The relaxed figure still moved with 
 something of the suppleness of youth, and in her 
 expression there was the suggestion of a hidden 
 summer, together with a hint of the weariness and 
 self-restraint of age. Her skin was white, with- 
 out color; her eyes wonderfully clear and trans- 
 lucent, with that far-away gaze which seemed not 
 to see anything close at hand.
 
 30 SANPRIEL 
 
 The ladies saw immediately that her hair had 
 begun to turn, and that the far-away expression 
 was not at all becoming to her. 
 
 Fru Gyllenskjold sat smiling to herself. She 
 was reminded of a closed house. Some day the 
 windows and doors would be thrown open. She 
 thought further: " Has she a lover? " That sort 
 of thing interested Fru Gyllenskjold. She de- 
 cided to take her up. 
 
 In a corner by the window sat Merchant Stern, 
 called Omar Pasha. He also looked at her and 
 noted the quiet face, the soft glance. His eye fol- 
 lowed the slow grace of her movements which 
 acted like music upon him. He noticed the 
 mouth there was an expression, sharp and 
 strained, which seemed to have been carved by 
 suffering. He thought of a voice in the far-dis- 
 tant past, a low, suppressed voice, wonderfully 
 mellow in tone. His glance took in her figure. 
 He leaned forward and remained sitting there, 
 his head buried in his hands. He knew her. He 
 had found her in the white silence which envel- 
 oped her. 
 
 When Fru Thammers rose from the table Fru 
 Gyllenskjold bade her welcome with her most 
 charming smile, and introduced her to the com- 
 pany. 
 
 The Adjunct had to move. Fru Gyllenskjold
 
 SANPRIEL 31 
 
 wanted the newcomer to sit beside her. The 
 other ladies received her very amiably. When 
 Fru Gyllenskjold took hold of things in that fash- 
 ion the others followed as a matter of course. 
 
 Fru Gyllenskjold looked gayly about. 
 
 " Where is Omar Pasha? He is not in good 
 spirits to-day. 
 
 Ce jeune Omar, pascha de Negrepont 
 Parceque son tigre de Nubie est mort ! 
 
 I must tell you he is our enfant terrible, an ex- 
 ample of human unreliability. To-morrow he 
 will probably dance a cancan. Would it please 
 you to tear yourself away from your African 
 dreams and come forth from your corner? Let 
 me confide in you, Fru Thammers, he is deep in 
 contemplation of human stupidity and is going to 
 write a book on that subject." 
 
 The man in the corner came forward with a 
 smile and a bow. 
 
 " They say the most wonderful things about 
 me. Who indeed would have the courage to un- 
 dertake such a work? " 
 
 Fru Gyllenskjold laughed. 
 
 ' This is one of our Pasha's bad days. It is im- 
 possible for him not to grumble." 
 
 Merchant Stern was a man with whom all the 
 ladies fell in love because of his remarkable face. 
 Then, too, he never did anything as others did.
 
 32 SANPRIEL 
 
 They never knew just what he would do that 
 was one of his charms. 
 
 He was just on the point of answering when 
 his wife's sharp voice was heard. 
 
 " There are just four things that I rave over, 
 just four things " 
 
 But what those four things were was not made 
 known to all, for at that moment Don Miguel 
 sat down at the piano and after a few strong 
 chords broke into a waltz, which seemed to ex- 
 press a weariness with the cold frivolity of the 
 present generation. The ladies thought it charm- 
 ing, and continued to direct their attention toward 
 Fru Thammers. 
 
 Now Fru Liss was going to sing. She had 
 promised to do so, but a great deal of prepara- 
 tion was necessary whenever she sang. 
 
 Many of the gentlemen became very busy all at 
 once. 
 
 Suddenly above the confusion Fru Thammers 
 heard the confident tones of her daughter's voice. 
 
 That was a remarkable thing about Gertrude. 
 She was always ready with an opinion, and that 
 a most decided one, on any question that might 
 come up. 
 
 Fru Thammers looked up and met the gaze of 
 the bright, inquisitive eyes, eyes that were always 
 looking for the little things, for things that could 
 be criticised.
 
 SANPRIEL 33 
 
 She and Birger had secured for themselves two 
 of the best seats by the fireplace and seemed to 
 feel perfectly at home. This seemed so strange 
 to her, for she herself sat there like a diffident 
 school girl, her heart oppressed by an inexplicable 
 dread. 
 
 At last Fru Liss began to sing. She had an 
 ingratiating little voice. It was said of her that 
 she had so much imagination. She could appar- 
 ently get something out of everything. With the 
 most mysterious air, as if she were making them 
 all accessory to a plot, or with a voice full of in- 
 tense longing, she would chirp forth even the 
 tamest words. 
 
 She was in good voice this evening, and the 
 clear notes sounded so bewitchingly confidential: 
 
 Listen, listen ! 
 
 If thou darest 
 
 Yes, if thou darest, then listen! 
 
 suddenly, with passion: 
 
 Oh, would that I had a silken gown, 
 A white one! 
 
 The young people were transported with 
 ecstasy. 
 
 Fru Gyllenskjold glanced hastily at Fru Tham- 
 mers, who sat there in silence, apparently uncon- 
 scious of the significance of the fact that Fru
 
 34 SANPRIEL 
 
 Thamar Gyllenskjold had shown such marked at- 
 tention to a new-comer. 
 
 The Dean's wife now came over and sat down 
 by her side. While her husband, with his robust 
 nature, never could conceive of any one going 
 wrong, and therefore preferred to discuss such 
 subjects as the reclamation of bogs, Fru Hemb 
 herself always liked to dwell on the frailties of 
 human nature. She possessed an unchangeable, 
 unfailing source of conversation. She felt it in- 
 cumbent upon her to give all mankind good ad- 
 vice, the supply of which never seemed exhausted. 
 
 She thought Fru Thammers was too pale. 
 
 " You ought to drink hot water. It is a good 
 thing for the whole system. And at your age 
 it is so healthful. Perhaps you don't understand 
 what I mean." 
 
 And with imperturbable zeal she began to ex- 
 plain her meaning. 
 
 Then came the Dean's sister. She also wished 
 to be friendly with Fru Thammers. She was 
 small, thin and worried looking. After many 
 years' experience with the difficulties of life she 
 had acquired the settled conviction that nothing 
 was as it should be. All her sentences ended in 
 a depressed " but " for what could she do about 
 it anyway? Now she thought that it would be 
 so much pleasanter for Fru Thammers if nature 
 up here were only different. If they could only
 
 SANPRIEL 35 
 
 grow roses here; for instance, those great, double 
 yellow, velvet 
 
 She gazed into Fru Thammers' eyes as though 
 she would gladly go through fire for her sake. 
 
 Thora Thammers suddenly rose. Her face 
 was colorless, and her eyes were heavy and looked 
 as if she saw nothing. 
 
 " I must go," she said softly. " Good night." 
 
 Fru Gyllenskjold nodded blandly. Then as 
 her eyes followed her she nodded again as if in 
 answer to her own thoughts. The Dean's wife, 
 although she was so benevolently inclined, could 
 not help feeling that the newcomer seemed some- 
 what ungrateful.
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 FRU THAMMERS remained standing for a 
 moment on the steps. At first it seemed 
 quite dark, coming out from the glare of light. 
 Gradually the summer evening emerged from the 
 shadows of the mountains, and she saw the out- 
 line of Flyen against the sky, silent and mysteri- 
 ous. 1 
 
 She found a little path leading from the garden 
 out into the field. Over stock and stone as she 
 stumbled forward in the twilight, it led her up 
 toward Flyen. 
 
 " If I can only find my way back again," she 
 thought; then again dully, "What does it mat- 
 ter?" 
 
 She went on until she could go no farther. 
 Then she sat down among the heather. 
 
 It seemed as if she had known that this was 
 the very spot to which she had wished to come 
 a place where she could hide away. She sat there 
 looking around, watching that mysterious some- 
 thing which was softly rising and at the same time 
 
 1 The reader must keep in mind the fact that this is in Norway, 
 the land of the midnight sun, where the summer days and the 
 twilight as well, are very long, and the nights correspondingly 
 short. 
 
 36
 
 SANPRIEL 37 
 
 growing darker, until as she watched, it seemed 
 to close in about her, heavy and silent as the slum- 
 bering sea. 
 
 Above, the heavens were full of great white 
 swans' wings. Far out to the north lay a bit of 
 gold-flaming cloud. It vanished while she sat 
 gazing at it. Everything grew so big and so sol- 
 emnly still. The wind and all things slept. 
 
 She sat motionless. She thought of the disci- 
 ple who knelt on the Mount of Transfiguration 
 and prayed that he might make his dwelling-place 
 there in the light. Here in the dark would she 
 pray to be ... to breathe out her soul ... to 
 let it stream out over the wild heath, among the 
 silent, sleeping flowers and find rest. 
 
 She continued to sit there silently, as if she 
 never again should move from the spot. 
 
 There came a faint sound. It was the wind 
 waking up in the forest. It whispered among 
 the branches and began to tell strange things. 
 
 She shivered. Was it cold? The air was 
 mild and soft, and all the earth was wrapped in 
 silence all except the little breeze. That had 
 begun to rustle about everywhere. It whisked 
 forward, it whisked back. The air was full of 
 it. The small branches swayed, the sleepy little 
 heather blossoms grew big and opened their eyes. 
 They breathed and began to laugh at her.
 
 38 SANPRIEL 
 
 A fear came over her. Her breathing quick- 
 ened. 
 
 She rose. She certainly must go back. 
 
 She did not know whether she was following 
 a path or not, or where she was going. The 
 dwarf birches seemed suddenly to rise up and 
 stand there moaning. There was something 
 moving among the trees and branches. It sighed. 
 It stared at her with glittering dark eyes. 
 
 She hurried on without looking round. 
 
 It was the gloom of night from mountain 
 and hill it came streaming, a flood of darkness. 
 And something was awake .... there came a 
 stealthy tread behind her . . , . the mountain 
 side was all astir 
 
 She tried to hurry, but it was after her like 
 a sneaking bloodhound. She could hear the deep 
 panting behind her 
 
 She stopped. 
 
 There she stood just where she had sat before 
 she rose to go home. 
 
 Was it really she? Yes, it was she, afraid of 
 the dark, distracted and half insane. 
 
 How they would laugh at her, the children, her 
 clever, practical daughter! How amusing it 
 would be to them all to know that she, an old 
 woman, was afraid, of what? of the wind, or the 
 heather?
 
 SANPRIEL 39 
 
 She sat down again in order to calm herself. 
 She caught sight of a lamp just lighted in a little 
 cabin, the outline of which she could barely see. 
 Her fear was gone. She felt only an unspeakable 
 scorn for herself. 
 
 They were singing hymns down there. The 
 wind carried the notes away, then wafted them 
 back again. A woman's voice rose like a white 
 dove through the silence, followed by that of a 
 man, heavy and strong, resting on earth. 
 
 They were the old hymns: 
 
 In Jesus' name shall all our work be done, 
 
 and 
 
 Jesus, thy memory . . . 
 
 Strong and tender, full of faith, insistent in their 
 call, the words came to her like a rebuke. 
 
 Had they not followed her through childhood, 
 borne her up as on strong arms, filled her with 
 hope? 
 
 Now they come to her again with heavy, sol- 
 emn tread, and looking deep into her heart they 
 ask: " What have you done to yourself that we 
 can no longer give you peace? Where are you? 
 Once long ago we carried you in our arms." 
 
 The past rose up before her. The tender long- 
 ings of childhood, the sweet intangible dreams of 
 early youth. She was filled with awe and an
 
 40 SANPRIEL 
 
 oppressive sense of humiliation, as she thought 
 of the self she had been, and of what she had since 
 become. 
 
 She wept softly. 
 
 Suddenly she drew herself together as she heard 
 some one coming. She looked up surprised, for 
 this time it really was some one who stood there 
 before her. 
 
 It was a woman, small but as she looked 
 again she seemed large. There was about her 
 an air of majesty that seemed not of this earth, 
 but as if she had come from far away. And the 
 eyes they looked into hers with unspeakable 
 mildness. They understood. 
 
 Thora Thammers rose and grasped the out- 
 stretched hand. There was something soothing 
 in the soft, firm touch, and at the sound of the 
 voice something that had long been dead within 
 her rose to life again. She followed her along 
 the path, feeling that she could follow her to the 
 ends of the earth, and farther even into the 
 heavenly land beyond. 
 
 At the entrance to the garden they paused with 
 a soft good-night. Thora Thammers held her 
 hand, wishing that she would speak. 
 
 From the hallway flashed a gleam of light. It 
 fell on the stranger like a halo of glory and re- 
 vealed a graceful figure simply clad, and a pale, 
 worn face full of expression.
 
 SANPRIEL 41 
 
 Thora stood for a moment without letting go 
 her hand. As she looked into her eyes something 
 from an unknown world met her in that glance. 
 
 She wanted to cry out: " Do not let me go. 
 Take me with you into your world of peace." 
 
 She stood like a helpless child as she felt the 
 tears rising. With an effort she controlled her- 
 self, bowed reverently and whispered: 
 
 " Thank you." 
 
 On the steps she met Barbo, the housemaid, 
 who was greatly frightened at her being out so 
 late. 
 
 She asked Barbo about the strange lady. She 
 was called Madame Harder. She lived down 
 there alone with her maid in a little house near 
 the hotel. There was a sick man in a cabin just 
 below Flyen who had been frightened out of his 
 wits by some traveling preachers, and no one had 
 been able to stop them until Madame Harder 
 went up. Since then they hadn't dared show 
 themselves, for she went up there every single day. 
 And the man was in his right mind again and the 
 doctor thought he would get well. 
 
 Late that night when Thora Thammers fell 
 asleep, there came to her a presence with calm, 
 bright eyes, and the room was filled with peace.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 A FEW days later, just after luncheon, it was 
 quite lively in the big parlor. All the guests 
 were indoors because it was raining. Most of 
 them were in a sociable mood. 
 
 In the corner by the door sat a number of young 
 women all talking at once. They had withdrawn 
 from the rest purposely. They didn't want to 
 be too near Fru Thamar Gyllenskjold, because 
 they didn't like the side glances that she occasion- 
 ally cast in their direction. Each one of them, 
 in a spirit of independence, had developed her 
 own peculiar variety of slang. They wanted to 
 express themselves more originally than the tire- 
 some old cultured people of the preceding genera- 
 tion. 
 
 Among them were students who were doing 
 graduate work, and some young primary school 
 teachers who had a tendency to look upon hu- 
 manity as a kindergarten placed under their super- 
 vision. 
 
 Some very young ladies had surrounded a little 
 lawyer. They wanted to know what certain gen- 
 tlemen in Molde did with themselves on Sunday 
 yes, on Sunday in particular. They would be 
 
 4*
 
 SANPRIEL 43 
 
 so charmed to meet anyone from Molde. The 
 little lawyer was certainly not from Molde, but 
 he forgot to state that. 
 
 A short distance away sat Fru Liss in her red 
 velvet gown. The lawyer sat looking at her 
 hands, delicate little cat's paws with skin almond- 
 white, soft and clear, as if they had just come into 
 existence, and were for the first time busied with 
 something for just at that moment they were 
 tearing to bits the nosegay of rare flowers that he 
 had brought her. 
 
 He had no need to be offended, for it was 
 merely a habit of hers, the result of a mild little 
 taste for destruction. At times it was absolutely 
 necessary for her to tear things to pieces and then 
 get up and stamp on them. Then when she had 
 done so, she would look up in the most bewitching 
 way and say: 
 
 " Oh, I am so sorry, but I just had to do it." 
 
 Anyway, she was angry just at that moment, 
 and it was quite becoming to her. Her whole 
 face took on an expression of soulfulness. Her 
 voice became fuller, with a trembling note which 
 contributed greatly toward establishing her cause. 
 
 It was Froken Hemb who had opposed her. 
 
 Froken Hemb thought that the world was all 
 wrong. It was a sin that so many human beings 
 were in need. 
 
 Fru Liss was convinced that everything in the
 
 44 SANPRIEL 
 
 world was done in the best possible way, and all 
 this want and misery she was sure that it would 
 be remedied. 
 
 Captain Spohr agreed with her. 
 
 He sat looking at her as she talked, thinking 
 that her mouth, with its Cupid's bow, was the most 
 deadly weapon he had ever faced. And he 
 didn't like to hear about the misfortunes and evils 
 of this world either. He didn't think people 
 were so badly off. 
 
 Fru Liss looked at Froken Hemb with a certain 
 scorn. 
 
 " According to that there would certainly be 
 no pleasure in existence, for " 
 
 And she turned to the Captain, who for the 
 moment was ready to take up arms in defense of 
 humanity against Froken Hemb, whose little trou- 
 bled face was certainly of no advantage to her. 
 
 With her feet on a footstool which Merchant 
 Stern had covered with the skin of a pampas cat, 
 sat Fru Thamar Gyllenskjold. 
 
 She smiled with her soft-doe eyes and looked 
 very good-natured. She was slightly chilly and 
 admired the beautiful silver-gray fur with the 
 rust-red stripes. To-day she felt that she must 
 pay some attention to Omar Pasha. He sat at 
 her feet beside the hearth and seemed in excellent 
 spirits. She had never seen him more so. She 
 looked at the fine, beardless mouth, with the deep,
 
 SANPRIEL 45 
 
 heavily marked lines which gave to the face an 
 expression of sensitiveness she never before had 
 seen in a man. Yet the eyes told a different story. 
 They looked so somber as they lay there shaded 
 by the long lashes and the heavy, projecting eye- 
 brows. There was a hard light in them. 
 
 For that matter, to-day he was utterly impossi- 
 ble. He heard everything that was said and 
 scattered his own remarks right and left. No 
 one was safe. The ladies had a certain fear of 
 him, but when he was absent they missed him more 
 than they feared him when he was present. 
 
 Thora Thammers sat alone in the farthest cor- 
 ner, turning over some engravings. 
 
 There were two people at Forest Home whom 
 Fru Gyllenskjold had no desire to bring together. 
 One of them was Fru Thammers. 
 
 She was suspicious of her. She would like to 
 be kind to all, but they must not stand in her way. 
 They must listen to her, and at the same time 
 keep their distance. They must not obstruct the 
 view. On the whole she was not sure but that 
 ladies required too much attention. It almost 
 seemed as if some of them wanted her place. 
 Therefore she did not see Fru Thammers to-day; 
 but otherwise she sat there placidly enough in her 
 role of sovereign princess, smiling her long, sinu- 
 ous smile as she listened to Omar Pasha. 
 
 On this particular day, since they were both in
 
 46 SANPRIEL 
 
 such good humor, they were easily amused, even 
 by Fru Iversen's silk-lined gown, which gave Omar 
 Pasha a special opportunity to scoff at the ladies, 
 poor things. He hoped, at least, that she would 
 agree with him that the elegance which one could 
 obtain by producing a sound which reminded one 
 of a rattlesnake was, after all, a very plebeian 
 substitute for the real thing which, by its very na- 
 ture, was noiseless. Were not the silks of the 
 old days heavy, and soft, and pliable? 
 
 She sat listening to him, patiently indulgent, as 
 she played with the silken ears of the Princess 
 Leyla. 
 
 Then she tapped him with her foot. 
 
 " Omar Pasha is the knight of the white cloud, 
 of the moon, and of the night wind, but not of 
 the earth, that he should take things so seriously, 
 like the Adjunct when he teaches us the rules for 
 the logical comma." 
 
 " I beg permission to correct your statement, 
 Your Majesty. I look upon my position in an 
 entirely different way. There is a certain spe- 
 cies of ants that has an instinct for keeping house- 
 slaves. You have that same instinct, most pow- 
 erful lady. The Adjunct and I are merely your 
 house-slaves. Are you still cold? Are you com- 
 fortable?" 
 
 " Very comfortable, but such far-fetched com- 
 parisons bore me."
 
 SANPRIEL 47 
 
 " It is all a part of the divine plan. I think 
 matters are very nicely arranged, since in that way 
 a very tedious life is shortened somewhat. One 
 ought to be thankful for that." 
 
 " What a peculiar being you are. I am con- 
 vinced that you believe in nothing." 
 
 " In everything possible, almost in the wind 
 and the weather, the sun and the moon, and the 
 Bergegubbe 1 and I find myself quite in har- 
 mony with it all." 
 
 She laughed and shook her head. 
 
 " We'll not bother about these things that we 
 don't understand. Tell us, rather, what you think 
 of those learned gentlemen over there. Have 
 you also shares in this telegraph line to Mars, 
 or is it Venus? Is there not an astronomer who 
 thinks he has observed signals from there? 
 What do they want of us? 
 
 " There comes my amiable new neighbor, Betsey 
 Schaum, journalist and author. You ought to 
 congratulate her, and the rest of us, too, for that 
 matter, on our acquisition of the right to vote. 
 You haven't done so yet." 
 
 Betsey Schaum denied most eloquently and vig- 
 orously being among those who swelled the num- 
 ber of lady authors. 
 
 That would be doing her an injustice. If there 
 was any one thing for which she deserved credit, 
 
 1 Mountain gnomes, creatures of Norwegian folklore.
 
 48 SANPRIEL 
 
 it was for having lessened their number. This 
 was indeed a secret except in newspaper cir- 
 cles, where she had the reputation of being a reg- 
 ular executioner since she hid her bloodthirsti- 
 ness under a modest little pen-name; and more- 
 over, her voice as well as her whole person gave 
 the impression of a mild and harmless creature. 
 
 But no one heard her vigorous protestations. 
 
 Some of the ladies in fact had begun to discuss 
 the suffrage question with Omar Pasha. , 
 
 Then the Adjunct became excited. He had 
 heard that in Sweden they had gone to the most 
 absurd extreme, that a woman could have as many 
 as a hundred votes, a fact which he immediately 
 attributed to the intellectual weakness of the 
 times. 
 
 Fru Gyllenskjold paid no attention to him, so 
 he had to address himself to Dean Hemb. 
 
 Omar Pasha took it quietly. He sat watching 
 them and laughing with those gleaming dark 
 strips which at times took the place of eyes. 
 
 " What do the honorable ladies want with 
 more rights? They have certainly never made 
 use of those that they have. And what can they 
 do in the legislative assembly so long as they can- 
 not improve the laws that .they themselves have 
 made?" 
 
 Fru Gyllenskjold leaned comfortably back, 
 drawing the fur closer about her feet.
 
 SANPRIEL 49 
 
 This was just what she liked, to sit here in quiet, 
 listening to the others. It amused her to see so 
 many of the ladies looking so irritated. Princess 
 Leyla lay in her lap gazing about with innocent, 
 wondering eyes, which seemed to scent danger. 
 For at least ten ladies came up demanding an ex- 
 planation from Omar Pasha. 
 
 He laughingly put his hands to his ears. 
 
 " What laws? I mean, of course, social laws. 
 Let us call them custom, habit, etiquette, what you 
 will. When it comes to the point, it is after all 
 the women who make them, and it is the women 
 who have the power to improve them, and through 
 them, society; but they never have done so. So 
 long as it does not occur to their sensible little 
 hearts that anything there needs setting to rights, 
 so long ought we to be forgiven if we do not feel 
 the need of their help, for just so long they can- 
 not give us what we need." 
 
 The ladies were accustomed to Omar Pasha's 
 atrocious remarks, but this sounded formidable, 
 as if there were some meaning in it. So they 
 could not let it pass. 
 
 Fru Iversen came up with a speed and a silken 
 rustle that reminded one of a rattlesnake. 
 
 " Oh, you horrible Omar Pasha! You really 
 mean then " 
 
 She looked helplessly at Fru Sanders, who
 
 50 SANPRIEL 
 
 raised her lorgnette and gazed at him with a super- 
 cilious smile. 
 
 " I should like to know what it is you really 
 want. Just as if what the men do is so wonder- 
 ful! Do you mean that they can manage every- 
 thing alone, the whole thing? " 
 
 "Your Highness! We are very desirous that 
 the women should join us, for our sake as well as 
 for the sake of the work that has been left un- 
 done; but we want them to come, as a Swedish 
 author expresses it, arrayed in all the natural 
 beauty of their sex. That is what we want. My 
 shoemaker is a sensible man. He says, woman 
 lacks in consciousness of self. It is her duty to 
 teach every man to respect her, but she does not 
 do so. Therefore I think we ought to be for- 
 given if we do not esteem her intelligence suffi- 
 ciently. It is remarkable what importance can 
 be attached to a trifle when once a precedent has 
 been established, especially by women, and in par- 
 ticular by married women. The other day when 
 Fru Sanders was entertaining, I happened to no- 
 tice accidentally the different degrees of courtesy 
 the women showed to married and unmarried 
 women. Now we men think such things are ab- 
 surd. Of course we do the same thing, but it is 
 according to orders. We have been so well 
 taught by you ladies. For my part I think there 
 is good reason to doubt that women are rational
 
 SANPRIEL 51 
 
 beings, so long as they cannot comprehend that in 
 such ways as this they are first of all insulting 
 their own womanhood. Excuse me, ladies, but it 
 was not I who began this. Remember, it was 
 not I." 
 
 Some of the ladies began making preparations 
 to annihilate Omar Pasha. 
 
 But now Fru Gyllenskjold raised her long, slen- 
 der hand, and the others restrained themselves. 
 
 " It seems to me you are making a great dis- 
 turbance here on earth, Omar Pasha. You are 
 prone to evil; now I perceive it. You are worse 
 than Nero or your twin-brother, Ivan the Terri- 
 ble, for you never waver; you never have any 
 access of mercy, and fortune favors you. Just 
 see, how unhappy we look! You storm about in 
 our little world like a tiger in his lair. Yester- 
 day you freed a wasp from the clutches of an hon- 
 est spider; you could not even pull the wings off 
 from a fly and now you sit here amusing your- 
 self at our expense." 
 
 She looked smilingly about. 
 
 " Over there sits Fru Altor, a lady who in times 
 past has been at court, and who now gives tone 
 to the village which has the honor of being her 
 place of residence. She has asked you ten times 
 if you do not know that what you call our social 
 laws are but emanations from a higher source, 
 from our court etiquette which presumably is
 
 52 SANPRIEL 
 
 above your criticism. Will it please you to an- 
 swer her? " 
 
 " Your humble servant, lady, has only to add 
 that the entire system of European court etiquette 
 is based on the relics of ancient Oriental barba- 
 rism. It is servility which forms the basis of the 
 system. It was Henry the Third of France who 
 had the honor of introducing this system into Eu- 
 rope, and of changing his associates from friends 
 to servants. And is not this a proof of our close 
 kinship to the apes, this thoughtless imitation of 
 an effort to build up artificial barriers, instead of 
 reverently respecting the real laws, those of na- 
 ture?" 
 
 Fru Altor could not find words immediately. 
 The muscles of her face quivered. She limited 
 herself to the remark that she thought the world 
 was becoming very strange. 
 
 "Yes, I think so myself, Fru Altor; and the 
 strangest thing of all is just this, that the beau- 
 monde of our time find so well suited to them- 
 selves the very customs that were in vogue in far- 
 distant barbaric times. Does not this show the 
 real foundation of our culture? Under cover of 
 what one calls ' good tone ' are instituted some 
 very remarkable things." 
 
 Fru Liss sent him a glance from her great, 
 wide-open eyes. 
 
 " Well, I must say, Herr Ivan the Terrible !
 
 SANPRIEL 53 
 
 Indeed, we certainly are enjoying ourselves ! We 
 are quite carried away. It is particularly delight- 
 ful when men talk this way indeed I think it 
 is amusing because it is so terrible to hear you! 
 I and quantities of my friends are entirely agreed 
 
 upon this, that yes, you horrid thing you 
 
 all this that we consider good form, you posi- 
 tively think it beastly? " 
 
 " That would be doing an injustice to the other 
 beasts; they in fact have never sunk so low. Now 
 I really think I had better take my leave." 
 
 At this moment his wife, Fru von Asten, came 
 to the rescue. 
 
 " Samuel, I have no idea what you mean, Sam- 
 uel." 
 
 Merchant Stern did not look at all surprised. 
 Fru von Asten always began that way when she 
 said anything to her husband. It had become 
 a habit with her. 
 
 She threw back her pretty little head, and the 
 bright eyes, which at first had looked so mild, be- 
 gan to take on an expression of irritation. 
 
 "I believe you think you are a superman!" 
 It came out quickly and decidedly. 
 
 " Dear Annie, you mustn't apply that expres- 
 sion to any one unless you wish to insult him. 
 That is, for the time being, our most correct term 
 of abuse. The fact is, my dear ladies, we have 
 made a serious attempt to originate the super-
 
 54 SANPRIEL 
 
 man, but a new species of plebeian has been the 
 result." 
 
 Fru Gyllenskjold again raised a warning finger. 
 
 " Shall we not light the pipe of peace? " 
 
 She looked smilingly about. 
 
 " Would it not be easier to control the winds 
 of heaven than to bring a man within the bounds 
 of reason when he is outside? I think that he 
 also is one of the forces of nature that must be 
 overcome. Man did not bring the earth into 
 subjection sufficiently before installing himself in 
 his own position. For the present, therefore, he 
 also belongs to the class of wild animals." 
 
 " Quite right, Madame, the instincts of a for- 
 mer period are still in our blood but I see that 
 it has stopped raining. Ya Allah, ya Allah ! God 
 is great! and I think I'll go." 
 
 The sun was indeed shining brightly outside. 
 
 Thora Thammers rose, closed the album and 
 also went out. Her daughter followed her to the 
 steps. 
 
 "Where are you going, Mamma? It is so 
 annoying that you make no effort to become ac- 
 quainted with the others, but go around alone all 
 the time. Birger thinks so, too, that it would be 
 much pleasanter for us if you would sit inside 
 more and make yourself comfortable with the old 
 folks. I am sure everyone thinks it strange. 
 People think you are very queer, and it is so an-
 
 SANPRIEL 55 
 
 noying for Birger and me. Yes, I know, 
 Mamma, you think we ought not to care you 
 are really clever about it but we'll just have to, 
 Birger and I, we'll just have to tell the young 
 people, that we can't " 
 
 Fru Thammers stood looking at her daughter. 
 
 "Do you and Birger forbid my going out?" 
 she asked quietly. 
 
 " Mamma, you certainly are a romantic old 
 thing; yes, Birger thinks so, too. Old people 
 never do understand the feelings of young folks. 
 We know very well that you think that we run 
 around too much with the young people but 
 then really we are not the only ones It is be- 
 cause young people have to live their own lives. 
 Froken Carn she is the leader of all the stu- 
 dents here this year she says : ' I have a right 
 to do just as I please in vacation.' She is un- 
 commonly daring and free in her nature. Now 
 her mother has some trouble in her knee, and she 
 is glad of it, because she has to keep quiet. Oth- 
 erwise she would want to go with her everywhere 
 and that is such a nuisance. Froken Carn says : 
 ' A mother ought to do everything for her children, 
 but the children really owe nothing to their par- 
 ents. It is the parents who are under obligation 
 to us. They must take the consequences of hav- 
 ing brought us into the world. It will be our 
 turn afterward when we have children.' "
 
 56 SANPRIEL 
 
 She stopped as she looked at her mother. She 
 cast her eyes down, blushing over what she had 
 just said, for her mother suddenly stood before 
 her, not with her usual submissive air, but tall 
 and erect. 
 
 She stood for a moment in silence, looking at 
 her daughter. Again Gertrude lowered her gaze, 
 for when her mother spoke it was not in her or- 
 dinary manner. 
 
 " I know indeed," she said slowly, " that you 
 and your aunt have begun to think that my mind 
 is not quite balanced not another word. You 
 and Birger may amuse yourselves as you please, 
 but you must forgive me if I do not stay indoors 
 just because you two wish it." 
 
 " Mamma, you do misunderstand us so out- 
 rageously! Now let me stay with you " 
 
 Fru Thammers smiled sadly, but did not accept 
 the offer. 
 
 Something had crept into her voice which set 
 her daughter off at a distance of which she had 
 never before been conscious. She stood there 
 gazing after her mother. 
 
 Certainly both she and her aunt and Birger 
 thought and she was sure that almost everyone 
 up here thought the same thing . . . for she cer- 
 tainly was not like other people ... It was a 
 nuisance that she had noticed . . . but she really 
 had no right to feel hurt . . . and yet how grand
 
 SANPRIEL 57 
 
 Mamma could be when she wanted to! Uncle 
 had noticed it at different times, and he had al- 
 ways said that there was good blood in her. 
 
 Froken Carn and some gentlemen came along 
 just then. They wanted Gertrude to go with 
 them for a walk.
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 FRU THAMMERS went up to her room. 
 Taking a light wrap she came down again 
 and took the path toward Flyen. 
 
 She felt it a relief to get away from all those 
 human voices. The air down there seemed full 
 of them, and of little troublesome thoughts and 
 bother about nothing. 
 
 Here she could breathe freely. Moreover, 
 there was something she must do. She had long 
 had the feeling that some day she would say to 
 herself: "Now I will look about to see what 
 it really is that I have been doing." And there 
 had come to her this very day a curious desire to 
 rummage about in her mental affairs and find out 
 where she stood. 
 
 She would like to tell the whole thing here, to 
 the wild creatures and the flowers, so they might 
 judge her. There was no human being in whom 
 she could confide. 
 
 She thought for a moment of the man who had 
 been talking down below. Even that first even- 
 ing something had stirred within her at the sound 
 of that voice ; why, she did not know, only that it 
 reminded her of the long forgotten past, of some-
 
 SANPRIEL 59 
 
 thing suffered and ended which she did not care 
 to experience again. 
 
 She walked slowly. 
 
 A hare sat peering at her with placid, innocent 
 eyes. Her foot almost touched it before it sprang 
 away. 
 
 " You need not be afraid of me," she mur- 
 mured, with a faint smile. " Then I will take 
 your place." 
 
 She sat down. Here indeed everything was 
 close about her. Here stood the dwarf birch and 
 the juniper, the heather and the silver-white wil- 
 low. How they beamed now that the sun had 
 come! 
 
 Yes, she would tell it. She could say it to 
 them. People would think it was because her 
 mind was not quite right. She could not help 
 laughing. It was on the contrary just because 
 she was rational. 
 
 It was something to be thankful for that the 
 fine people down there thought there was nothing 
 interesting up on Flyen, for she could have peace 
 here, she and the little wild creatures. 
 
 How vast and still it is to-day! Only the 
 breeze comes gliding by on broad, noiseless wings, 
 as if it were all alone under the heavens. She 
 hears its whispering voice. Every living thing 
 among the thousand hillocks knows it. It slips 
 away through the heather, hides and dozes, wakes
 
 60 SANPRIEL 
 
 again, steals into the hearts of the little flowers 
 and sets them trembling. 
 
 " I can tell it to you," she murmured half aloud, 
 " for you are not like the others." 
 
 She lay down among the heather; she was so 
 tired. 
 
 She hid her face. 
 
 Not that, no, not that which now seemed 
 
 to come before her like a horrible ogre-tale which 
 some one once had told her. For she had forgot- 
 ten it, or God had saved her from it. She had 
 just reached the point where there was a little 
 comfort in thinking that all that was ended. 
 
 She half rose, supporting her head on her hand. 
 
 But how did it happen that she became that 
 
 man's wife? She saw him before her, Colonel 
 Arvid Thammers, indolent, self-satisfied, fat, bald- 
 headed. She looked at him in cold wonderment. 
 Was it he? Was it in association with her that 
 he had become such? 
 
 She shuddered at the thought 
 
 She closed her eyes there he stood before her 
 as he once was, the handsomest man she had ever 
 seen. With his sweet, troubadour voice he had 
 sung himself into her heart. His passionate dark 
 eyes had taken her fancy. She had thought there 
 was so much expression in them. 
 
 And her aunt had said that it was the usual 
 thing for a young girl's dreams to be shattered.
 
 SANPRIEL 6 1 
 
 She must not think that she was the only one to 
 whom such things happened, but that time would 
 make it all right. She must think of the realities 
 of life. It was there that happiness lay. 
 
 So she herself had thought that Arvid Tham- 
 mers must indeed be the one. It could not be 
 otherwise. . . . And it would all come later, all 
 that she was looking for. It didn't matter so long 
 as there was so much to come afterward. It was 
 always that way, they all said together. They 
 certainly knew best. . . . But she thought so too, 
 that it was best to hurry up and have it all settled. 
 She had been so afraid. It seemed to her that 
 she had stood on the edge of a precipice, but had 
 been saved in some miraculous way. . . . She 
 didn't want to suffer. Why should she? She was 
 only eighteen. She wanted to enjoy life to the 
 full 
 
 She could not bear to think of it any longer. 
 Again she lay down in the heather. 
 
 A fear came upon her that she was getting too 
 close to the sore spots in her soul. She knew of 
 something there, a dumb, hidden horror, behind 
 the dark door which led into the land of despair. 
 Yes, she had stood there and listened, to learn if 
 there was any message for her. There had been 
 times when she could find no peace, when it had 
 seemed to her that nothing of all this that she had 
 lived could be true; that it could not be possible
 
 62 SANPRIEL 
 
 that Arvid Thammers was her husband, and she 
 the mother of the two children who were not really 
 hers, who never looked at anything with her eyes 
 or listened to anything with her ears. 
 
 She put her hands up to her face as if to shield 
 herself from something. For many years now 
 she had completely forgotten that she had ever 
 loved her husband but she had. There was 
 no doubt about that ! 
 
 She had waited so anxiously at first, for in her 
 heart was hidden a kingly castle. It was for him, 
 but he must find it himself he must win his way 
 to it. 
 
 But Arvid never came. He thought that he 
 possessed all, that there was nothing more. 
 
 Then it was that the door was locked, and he 
 didn't notice that either. So she thought that 
 some time there would be a great scene, and mat- 
 ters would be improved. But Arvid had no de- 
 sire for a scene. He knew perfectly well that she 
 would like to have him different from what he 
 was, but he let it go as if he had noticed nothing. 
 He was always in a good humor, continually laugh- 
 ing and showing his strong white teeth. Serious 
 matters never made any impression upon him. 
 
 But what is the use of lying here thinking about 
 all this? 
 
 She lay staring up into the sky. Again she felt
 
 SANPRIEL 63 
 
 that terrible depression. She must talk it over 
 with some one. 
 
 " Listen, heather bloom, little bell, I will tell it 
 to you, so that you may know what I am ... so 
 that you may not think too well of me . . . and 
 so that you may be kind to me when I come up 
 here." 
 
 She grew strangely excited. She must tell it. 
 She could not get away from it. With a faint, 
 sad smile she lay there murmuring to herself: 
 
 " For I was young . . . and there came a fear 
 which consumed me, that it might never be differ- 
 ent. Then there came a hunger for another life, 
 
 different from the one I was living 1 began 
 
 to dream. ... I thought that what I was dream- 
 ing was more than what I was living ... so I 
 went one evening to Arvid and said that I 
 was beginning to forget him . . . and I was 
 afraid 
 
 " But Arvid laughed. ' It is no matter to me 
 what you dream.' ' But what if it were not a 
 dream . . . what if it should become the truth 
 that I no longer care for you ? ' 
 
 " Arvid laughed : ' I have you anyway for 
 that matter there is no human being of whom I 
 am so fond that I could not do without.' 
 
 " A chill seized my heart ... it settled there. 
 I ceased weeping so much. I became curious to 
 see how it would come out "
 
 64 SANPRIEL 
 
 She rose again. She could not keep still. She 
 whispered plaintively: 
 
 " No, there is nothing more to it. Why should 
 I bother about it when I am so tired? " 
 
 But she could not get away from it. She kept 
 thinking how Arvid went on just as happy as be- 
 fore, and how she began to look at him so differ- 
 ently . . . That troubadour manner which had be- 
 come him so well, and which she had thought gave 
 evidence of something deeper . . . how it had 
 fallen from him like a worn-out garment . . . and 
 the interests which at first had bound them to- 
 gether, how they finally had been absorbed in the 
 materialism which had grown up in him ! He 
 became indolent, acquired more and more an 
 appetite for good things to eat, and began to con- 
 cern himself with affairs in the kitchen. They 
 all said to her: " How fortunate you are to have 
 a husband who is such a good hand to look after 
 the house ! " 
 
 But she did not see that she saw only that 
 their ways had begun to divide. And it seemed to 
 her that she never became any older, but still sat 
 there in her youth. Others about her grew and 
 became fully matured men and women, while she 
 herself stood still. 
 
 The young married women said to her : " You 
 don't understand being married. You don't know 
 how to make the most of your situation."
 
 SANPRIEL 65 
 
 They often had company, music and dancing. 
 Arvid was fond of such things. 
 
 She lay staring up at the sky. 
 
 Then came the two little children. They 
 seemed so strange almost from the first. Was 
 it nature avenging herself? They grew up re- 
 sembling their father and their father's family 
 the same broad white teeth that laughed at every- 
 thing, the same love of good things to eat. 
 
 She felt at that moment a sort of wonderment 
 that the young girl with the clear, cold eyes and the 
 disdainful expression about the fresh mouth could 
 really be her daughter and Birger, so like his 
 father, with the same stream of careless expres- 
 sions, good-natured, complacent, of one who early 
 becomes corpulent. They resembled him also in 
 the fact that if there was anything they wanted of 
 her, they could display such an excess of affection 
 as to make one sick at heart. 
 
 She drew a deep breath as she brushed the hair 
 back from her forehead. 
 
 What was the use of lying there thinking about 
 it all? Perhaps it was not always that way. She 
 wondered if any one ever enjoyed living. 
 
 And so, as she had gone about with this weight 
 upon her, she had never been able to remember 
 that she was old, and that life was over for her. 
 It was this, of course, which indicated the weak 
 condition of her mind.
 
 66 SANPRIEL 
 
 Her children, both of whom were so practical, 
 looked upon her as an old woman, who ought to 
 sit in the chimney-corner at home. 
 
 If only a wave might come some time and break 
 over her life, and wash out every trace ... if 
 the storm as it broke over her head could take 
 her with it and leave no memory behind ! 
 
 She rose. How foolish of her to lie there in 
 that fashion! What good could it do? It was 
 all over and she had become reconciled. Every- 
 thing was ended. All that could break had 
 broken. That which had once shone so brightly 
 had gone out in darkness and had become a thing 
 of the past. 
 
 They rose before her, those days when the cup 
 of life's bitterness seemed full ever-memorable, 
 ineffaceable days that could never come again 
 because she had lost the power to suffer. There 
 was something comforting in that thought. 
 Thank God that she had gotten so far. Now for 
 the first time was she happy. 
 
 But a shudder passed through her. Her eyes 
 were full of tears. 
 
 It was getting along toward evening. 
 She lay as before staring up at the sky. 
 Overhead was a rainbow. It dissolved and 
 faded away. A shower of heavenly blossoms
 
 SANPRIEL 67 
 
 sank down about her, grew pale, then disappeared. 
 There came a long-drawn sigh from the mountain 
 side. 
 
 The forest was always sighing. Or was it the 
 wind, or the river? Or were there spirits in the 
 air that were blending all these low tones together 
 into billows that would roll on and on unceasingly, 
 like her own silent, endless longing that never 
 could find rest. 
 
 A faint sound came up from the rushes. 
 
 She looked out over the water. It was touched 
 with the red of the rose. Two loons left long 
 streaks behind them as they swam. Their white 
 breasts shone in the sun each time they rose at 
 the beat of the wing. 
 
 And the heavens most magnificent to behold 1 
 The flowers were gone; but the animals of earth 
 were there, all clad in rose-color. How noiselessly 
 they moved about, with not a human being, not 
 one to say a single word. That was the best of 
 all. 
 
 She lay there staring up at the sky. 
 
 One by one the little creatures stole away. 
 Again there came a faint glow. Her gaze fol- 
 lowed the horizon. She saw the great profile of 
 the mountains against the sky, and the heavy stone 
 face of the giant who had lain down to rest on the 
 soft green of the mountain side, with his mighty
 
 68 SANPRIEL 
 
 head sunk low. How she enjoyed it, all this 
 
 peace and harmony of nature 
 
 Is that some one coming? What does any one 
 
 want here? 
 
 It was Madame Harder who was coming from 
 the sick man. She passed her, then turned, saw 
 her and smiled. There was something in the 
 glance which moved her. It seemed to say: 
 " Arise and go. Be sound and whole again." 
 
 Thora Thammers bowed her head. 
 
 Then she lifted her face again, followed her 
 with her eyes as long as she could, and listened, 
 although she knew she had not spoken. She had 
 merely looked at her. 
 
 " Yes," she murmured finally, " I will." 
 
 Again some one approached. A dog came 
 bounding toward her. She looked up and met his 
 wild, dark eye. 
 
 " Be still," she said quietly, " I am your 
 friend." 
 
 He snuffed around, wagged his tail, then 
 bounded off again, returning in a moment with 
 his master. 
 
 She saw that it was one of the guests from the 
 hotel, the man with the strange voice and the in- 
 sufferably light manner of speech. She became 
 involuntarily prejudiced against people who 
 laughed so much, and his easy way of taking 
 everything had irritated her.
 
 SANPRIEL 69 
 
 He stopped in front of her and spoke : 
 
 "Who is this wandering about on my Flyen? 
 So this is where you hide yourself. Yes, the hall 
 here is spacious and has a lofty ceiling." 
 
 She answered with a faint, absent-minded smile 
 and waited for him to pass on. But he remained 
 standing there. 
 
 " Wolf, come here. May I present a friend of 
 mine? He is of good family. He is named for 
 his great grandfather who was a wolf. You can 
 see he betrays his origin, which never descends in 
 a straight line. It is remarkable how you seem 
 to have found favor. As a rule he does not like 
 ladies." 
 
 He sat down. 
 
 " I hope I have your permission? " 
 
 She did not answer. She wanted to rise and 
 go away, but he did not look at her, so she re- 
 mained where she was. 
 
 ' You are right, Madame, in coming up here 
 where it is so pleasant. Very few come here. 
 Either they go on up higher and count the moun- 
 tain peaks and church towers, or else they go to 
 the Falls. Painting the Falls has become an epi- 
 demic. There are about twenty ladies sitting 
 there now painting, not to speak of the men and 
 the children." 
 
 He turned toward her with a smile. 
 
 " You do not say much, Fru Thammers, but
 
 7 o SANPRIEL 
 
 you are observant. I have noticed that, at differ- 
 ent times down at the hotel. You look at me 
 with the air of a keeper in a zoological garden, as 
 much as to say: ' You know very well you ought 
 not to tease the animals.' ' 
 
 She said nothing but wished that she had gone. 
 
 He continued gayly: 
 
 " Perhaps you are up here studying the fauna 
 in private? " 
 
 " I know nothing about it." 
 
 Her voice was constrained. She regretted 
 that she had not gone immediately. 
 
 " It would be a pleasure to me to help you get 
 your bearings. There are some well developed 
 specimens here, in particular among the younger 
 ones. Have you noticed the young people with 
 whom we are blessed these days those remark- 
 able creatures who go about saying ' namely ' or 
 * simply,' and think that that is the whole thing? 
 Have you not observed what a ridiculous appear- 
 ance they make with their boldness of manner 
 and almost utter lack of training and refinement? 
 On their brows is stamped a certain kind of 
 plebeianism, by the grace of God, and they go 
 about proud of it." 
 
 He turned again and looked at her. 
 
 " It was certainly different in the old days, up 
 here as well as elsewhere. Now it is a matter of 
 bevies of young ladies who make mountain expe-
 
 SANPRIEL 71 
 
 editions unsafe, and life here in the hotel most 
 strenuous. One's mind goes back to the past 
 when fine young women were more often to be 
 seen than at the present time." 
 
 She looked at him hastily, flushing crimson. 
 Had this anything to do with Gertrude or Bir- 
 ger? Why had he come to her with all this? 
 
 " I ... I know nothing about it," she mur- 
 mured. There was something about him that dis- 
 turbed her. 
 
 " I beg your pardon, Fru Thammers. You are 
 not used to my abominable habit of talking all 
 sorts of nonsense." 
 
 He rose and stepped nearer. 
 
 ' You are very near-sighted, Fru Thora Tham- 
 mers, and you are very forgetful. Likewise you 
 are easily satisfied. You have been content to take 
 my title of Pasha. You have not once made an 
 effort to find out who I am. Do you know me 
 now?" 
 
 She sprang up from the stone on which she was 
 sitting. She stared at him. As she stared a gray 
 pallor overspread her face. Her lips trembled 
 with uncontrollable emotion. 
 
 The man with the voice she ought to have 
 known that it was he. She saw the deep lines 
 around the sensitive, mobile mouth the power 
 in his eye now for the first time she recognized 
 him.
 
 ?2 SANPRIEL 
 
 Must she pass through all that experience again? 
 Like a tongue of flame the thought flashed through 
 her mind, carrying with it overpowering anguish. 
 
 All that for which she had fought so hard 
 no, never would she allow it to be wrested from 
 her. 
 
 A cold, hard expression came over her face. 
 The low, flexible voice grew restrained. 
 
 " No ! I do not recognize you." 
 
 " That is remarkable. I always admire people 
 who forget. It is indeed plausible, for it has been 
 some time seven, eight, twenty-eight years. I 
 know I have changed a good deal." 
 
 His voice sounded friendly, as he spoke with 
 an easy gayety. 
 
 " Allow me to inform you that my name is Sam- 
 uel Stern, and that I am a wholesale merchant, 
 a very poor one for that matter. Have I per- 
 mission to make your acquaintance, as it were from 
 the beginning again? It would interest me." 
 
 She turned away. A slight tremor passed over 
 her. She would pretend that she had not noticed 
 that he had addressed her and would quietly go her 
 way. 
 
 But she was obliged to sit down again. She 
 could not go. 
 
 He continued good-naturedly, genially : 
 
 " It is really quite comical you from Bergen,
 
 SANPRIEL 73 
 
 I from Christiania; yes, just like any other ordi- 
 nary event. Is the Colonel coming? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 She saw Adele Harder's figure as she came into 
 sight at a turn in the road, just before going into 
 a small cottage. She must talk about something 
 else. 
 
 " Who is she? Does she live there? " 
 
 " Yes, that is her little home. We call it Casa 
 Santa and she herself is our Beloved Mother, our 
 Saint She resembles the Donna Velata, you 
 know, the original of the Sistine Madonna." 
 
 He thought it was a good idea to talk of some- 
 thing else and continued: 
 
 " She comes up here in the summer-time to rest; 
 but all who are in trouble go to her, so she gets 
 no peace. She has her property where she has 
 made a home for friendl-ess children. She teaches 
 them how to plant and care for trees, and how to 
 cultivate the land, and to learn from nature and 
 to become men. The elite here feel that they 
 must be careful not to show her too much respect, 
 for they think that she is poor, not married, and 
 not of a good family. But she ignores their vul- 
 garity. Not even with the tips of her delicate 
 fingers could she reach them in their commonplace- 
 ness. The distance is too great. When she 
 comes near I always feel like kneeling.
 
 74 SANPRIEL 
 
 "Have you noticed her big blue eyes? They 
 remind one of English violets; but there is an in- 
 spiration in them, and a dream of something 
 greater than English violets. They dream that 
 the evils of this world can be overcome. Have 
 you talked with her? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Well, she talks very little, mostly with those 
 who are in trouble. Do you talk with the other 
 ladies?" 
 
 She sat half turned away, her eyes avoiding his 
 gaze. 
 
 Suddenly she looked at him with her far-away, 
 troubled expression. 
 
 He turned from her and whistled to his dog. 
 
 Smilingly he addressed her, saying: 
 
 ' You wish me to go." 
 
 He started, but turned back a step : 
 
 " Don't stay too long. It is strange here at 
 night. Flyen is oppressive."
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 SHE continued to sit there, stupid, no longer 
 thinking. 
 
 The mountains still lay in a luminous haze; but 
 suddenly the great space seemed to grow smaller, 
 to contract. Something heavy settled down. A 
 black streak moved over the water. All at once 
 it grew cold. 
 
 She began to feel chilly. Should she get up and 
 go on lose herself in the mountains for in- 
 stance? Or should she go down and put herself 
 to bed like any ordinary old woman who knows 
 what she owes to her children? 
 
 She rose. Yes, of course! Especially since 
 she had settled it all anyway and had decided not 
 to bother herself any more about the affairs of 
 this world. 
 
 Just as now the heavens, so had everything else 
 closed in about her, the horizon continually grow- 
 ing smaller. Now there was left merely a narrow 
 strip of all she had once thought so large. So 
 she would withdraw into herself and live her little 
 life in peace. 
 
 She went slowly back to the hotel. She had a 
 cup of tea brought to her room. This she drank 
 
 75
 
 7 6 SANPRIEL 
 
 in a preoccupied way, then undressed and went to 
 bed. 
 
 A long time she lay listening to the clock as it 
 struck, hour after hour, until it seemed to her that 
 she was asleep; but she must have been awake, for 
 she could hear the soft swish of the pendulum out 
 in the hallway. Then she knew nothing more 
 only that she was being borne on swift, noiseless 
 wings up through her bright youth into the radi- 
 ance of spring. 
 
 She was a child and was walking about in the 
 meadow. The forest in its bright green dress 
 stood close around. The silken grass swayed 
 about her in long, darkening billows. The cuckoo 
 was there, and in the distance she could hear the 
 wild dove while the swallows whistled by. . . . 
 
 It was the time of the wild flowers the valley 
 was filled with their fragrance. 
 
 And she was so happy over everything. 
 
 She walked along thinking wonderful new 
 thoughts. The air became golden. She wan- 
 dered about in that golden light. Then it came 
 to her, the Dream of Life. She was so happy 
 and so strangely stirred. Now she knew how 
 it would be with her when she grew up. 
 
 She sat down in the grass and wept every- 
 thing was so solemn. The sun went down and 
 the whole earth was like a castle of gold
 
 SANPRIEL 77 
 
 It was in the old garden. 
 
 They sat under an arch of jasmine. The great 
 white petals fell like snow. The air was heavy 
 with the sweetness of the white snow. And they 
 sat there. Everything was so still and white that 
 neither of them could speak. He cut her name in 
 the old tree. 
 
 " Come," he whispered, " let us go out where 
 the linden sheds its fragrance, under the blossom- 
 ing arches, into the evening red. We own it all." 
 
 She saw his bright, tender smile, the sensitive 
 mouth that trembled as his eyes darkened. He 
 asked: 
 
 " Why do you love me? " 
 
 She did not know 
 
 Never before had the cuckoo sung so sweetly. 
 
 It had been raining. They were walking 
 through the steaming meadow. Under cover of 
 the white mist the flowers were fairly rioting. It 
 was like a skirmish on a plain. 
 
 They stopped to look at them. They had to 
 laugh. The red clover was making a great dis- 
 turbance, although it was the fault of the white 
 clover, which had shed its perfume so profusely 
 that it had gone to the heads of the other flowers. 
 
 It was early one Sunday morning. . . . They
 
 7 8 SANPRIEL 
 
 went a long, long way. It seemed as if they could 
 not turn back. 
 
 There was a rustling in the ripened corn. The 
 air was filled with the music of the birds. They 
 stood staring up into the dazzling blue, where the 
 lark, and the light, and the joy all swam around 
 together. 
 
 They had to laugh, for they were so happy. 
 
 When they came home all the church bells were 
 ringing. 
 
 It was like a consecration. 
 
 At home they all said: " Look at him. Just 
 look at him now. He is not the one for you." 
 And they talked about how he went back and forth 
 and wasted his time. 
 
 She did not understand them, any more than 
 if it had been the wind talking as it flew past. 
 For when he was there and she saw him, she did 
 not know how he looked. And she could not 
 know how he used his time, for when he came 
 time stood still. 
 
 She only knew that her soul within was bathed 
 in a nameless glory. Flowers were falling 
 white, so white and shedding their perfume 
 about her. 
 
 There was nothing for her to do but to sit 
 quietly and accept it all. She wished for nothing,
 
 SANPRIEL 79 
 
 not even that he would come; for he was indeed 
 always near. 
 
 She did not understand what the others were 
 talking about. She understood only that this 
 was life as it must be for her. It was the dream 
 she had dreamed that time in the golden air, so 
 long ago 
 
 It was winter. She was freezing. She had 
 forgotten to put on her wraps. Her soul was 
 full of anguish. She herself wanted to go and 
 see if it were true, that when he left her he went 
 to a young actress who was there playing a guest 
 role. Her brother tried to comfort her by saying 
 that when she went away that would be the end 
 of it, for she was there merely as a guest. They 
 tortured her still more at home. 
 
 And he was there. So they were at dinner? 
 But he must come out; she must have a word with 
 him. 
 
 Then he came and his face turned white. 
 
 " I merely wish to say good-by," she said. He 
 wanted to go with her. 
 
 " No," she said, " my brother is with me." 
 
 And she went. 
 
 At home they were all glad. She must start 
 early the next morning on a trip to Bergen to see 
 her aunt. They arranged everything for her
 
 80 SANPRIEL 
 
 Then began her wandering in the wilderness. 
 
 But she never could get any water from the 
 rock. 
 
 She had such an insatiable thirst. It permeated 
 everything, hands, feet, heart, and soul; a silent, 
 consuming thirst, unchangeable as eternity; an an- 
 guish which devoured her; a yearning cry for life, 
 for the life she had not had a chance to live. 
 
 She slept heavily. The morning sun shining in 
 her face did not waken her, nor the noise on the 
 stairs. 
 
 Gertrude sent the maid in twice, for her mother 
 had promised to help her with a dress on which 
 she wanted to make some alterations before the 
 dance that evening. 
 
 Now Gertrude herself came, somewhat vexed. 
 
 ' You surely must be sick to-day, Mamma. I 
 have depended upon you. They are waiting for 
 me now for our morning walk." 
 
 " My dear, you may rest easy." 
 
 Fru Thammers raised herself in bed and rubbed 
 her face hard. 
 
 " I was only dreaming. I had forgotten that 
 you existed." 
 
 Gertrude saw the rare smile that flitted over 
 her mother's face and felt offended. 
 
 " I certainly believe it; but the worst of it is 
 about the dress "
 
 SANPRIEL 8 1 
 
 " Go, my child, I will surely 
 
 But Gertrude was already half-way down the 
 stairs and her voice sounded almost tender. 
 
 " You are awfully good, Mamma, but they are 
 waiting for me below." 
 
 Fru Thammers brushed the hair back from her 
 temples. 
 
 " How I hate all this ! " she whispered vehe- 
 mently. 
 
 She bowed her head in her hands and sat there 
 rocking back and forth as if in bodily pain. 
 
 The clock struck. She pulled herself together, 
 got up and dressed. She stood a moment gazing 
 with a grim smile at her reflection in the mirror. 
 Then she went down to breakfast and afterward 
 set to work on Gertrude's dress. She took her 
 sewing out on the veranda which ran around the 
 house. 
 
 Merchant Stern came along with his wife. 
 
 " Good morning, Fru Thammers. May I pre- 
 sent my dear wife Fru von Asten ah, and here 
 is Fru Really Wholesale-dealer Iversen." 
 
 Fru Iversen tapped him on the arm with her 
 work-bag. 
 
 ' You are yes, Heaven knows you are yes, 
 fortunately Iversen is as real as any one can be, 
 and I am really glad of it. But you are ultra- 
 montane." 
 
 What Fru Iversen meant by ultramontane she
 
 82 SANPRIEL 
 
 could not exactly explain, but that was never re- 
 quired of her. With a gracious and amiable 
 glance she came up the steps of the piazza. 
 
 " Really it will be very nice to sit here and 
 chat a while with you." 
 
 She took out her work. 
 
 " For here it is really so ... yes, don't you 
 think, Fru Thammers, yes, what was it Iversen 
 said about the view here yesterday, it was so strik- 
 ing. . . . Iversen, come. What was it you said 
 yesterday about the view?" 
 
 But Iversen did not hear. One caught only a 
 glimpse of a ponderous figure in light dress dis- 
 appearing over the edge of the hill. 
 
 Merchant Stern had also disappeared. The 
 gentlemen were going bathing. 
 
 " And so you were out last evening. What 
 do you think of the sunset, and so forth? Iver- 
 sen always thinks it is so harmonious and clear, 
 and Heaven knows that it is really true." 
 
 Fru von Asten had settled herself and unrolled 
 her embroidery. 
 
 She sat on the other side of Fru Thammers 
 who, with a pink spot on either cheek, was sew- 
 jng vigorously. 
 
 Fru von Asten's trim little head with its shin- 
 ing eyes was constantly in motion. She began to 
 talk; but her share of the conversation consisted 
 entirely of brief questions.
 
 SANPRIEL 83 
 
 She was industriously embroidering a lunch 
 cloth. Her hands were large, white, and supple. 
 The pretty face had an expression of refined bru- 
 tality, with certain lines which indicated that a 
 storm might easily happen wherever she might be. 
 
 At times the fierce light of passion would glow 
 in her eyes, as it did even now while they were 
 sitting there so peacefully employed. 
 
 Fru Thammers had the same experience as the 
 others. Now and then she had the feeling that 
 she was being scratched, and so she was. Fru 
 von Asten could not restrain herself, although 
 she sat there with her most pleasing smile and 
 was apparently very friendly toward Fru Tham- 
 mers. She was always interested in the peculiari- 
 ties of a newcomer. By that she meant their 
 faults. 
 
 Fru Iversen looked somewhat disappointed. 
 
 Fru Thammers was not sufficiently interested 
 in fancy work. She would like to know how her 
 home looked. There was apt to be something a 
 little bit unfeminine about ladies of that sort. 
 
 Fru Thammers rose. She thought it was get- 
 ting warm. 
 
 Fru Iversen rose also. 
 
 " Dear me ! Iversen ! I had really forgotten 
 Iversen completely. . . ." 
 
 They all agreed that they had sat there too 
 long.
 
 84 SANPRIEL 
 
 Fru Thammers went up to her room and con- 
 tinued her work, with a feeling of thankfulness 
 that she had the right to be alone there. 
 
 The dress was ready. Gertrude was charmed 
 with her mother that day. 
 
 " Of course you will come in this evening and 
 watch us dance. Do you know, sometimes I think 
 it is more fun to sit still and look on, for 
 there is always some one that you can laugh your- 
 self to death over." 
 
 Fru Thammers looked at her daughter with a 
 faint smile. 
 
 " You have not changed much. The day you 
 were eight years old you said about the same 
 thing. It was the first time you ever had a 
 party. You stood looking at them all so scorn- 
 fully, and when I asked what you were thinking 
 about, you laughed and said: ' Oh, I'm just look- 
 ing for those that get mixed up, for they are the 
 most fun.' ' 
 
 She sighed involuntarily, for she could still re- 
 member how painfully she had been shocked by 
 the expression in those clear, childish eyes. 
 
 Gertrude turned abruptly away. 
 ' Well, that just shows that even at that time 
 I had a bit of understanding of human nature. 
 But you will come later, Mamma? Birger? 
 Yes, Birger is getting ready. Haven't you seen 
 him to-day? No? Birger is so busy. The
 
 SANPRIEL 85 
 
 morning is just about the worst time, and in the 
 evening we have our Young Folks Club, you 
 know. . . . Yes, he is one who maintains that he 
 should be care-free in vacation. I must go and 
 .dress now." 
 
 Fru Thammers gazed after her daughter, then 
 began putting away her sewing materials. Sud- 
 denly she stopped, letting her hands fall. 
 
 What a miserable creature she was ! What had 
 she accomplished in the world? She had not even 
 been able to bring up her children properly. The 
 same weeds that had sprouted with the plants 
 when young, she now found beside the fully de- 
 veloped and grown plants. And she had been 
 able to do nothing, not a thing. 
 
 After all she was sorry for her husband. He 
 was to be pitied for having married her. 
 
 She felt it keenly; for she had striven honestly 
 all these years, but had not been able to create a 
 home. There had been no altar with its sacred 
 fires kindled by the tenderness of love, by the 
 silent understanding of the soul. Gray days alone 
 had been the result of all her effort. 
 
 In about four weeks she would be going home 
 again. Arvid would receive her in a most 
 friendly way. He would kiss her and would be 
 very properly pleased. 
 
 And she? She shuddered. She herself did 
 not understand why she no longer could endure
 
 86 SANPRIEL 
 
 him, why her ability to adapt herself to him seemed 
 utterly exhausted. 
 
 He would tell her all sorts of things about the 
 Club, and how the meals had been, about Karen's 
 roast beef, which was so good. He often had 
 difficulty in expressing himself; then he would just 
 laugh instead, so she had accustomed herself to 
 laugh also. It pained her to think how they would 
 sit and laugh together. 
 
 Then the aunts and the other members of the 
 family would all come in. It was when she was 
 with her husband's people that she felt her faults 
 most of all. That peculiarly cold atmosphere 
 which enveloped them irritated her like something 
 scratching the skin, and always made her feel her 
 weaknesses. 
 
 And she had been so lonely with it all. She had 
 thought she could no longer endure that loneli- 
 ness, right in the midst of those nearest her. 
 None of them had been able to understand it. 
 They had wanted to cure her of that foolish 
 nervousness. 
 
 ' You have so much to live for," they said. 
 ' You have your husband." 
 
 1 Yes, that is true. I have my husband." 
 
 " And you have your dear little children." 
 ' Yes, I have my little children." 
 
 And she had felt so ashamed of herself, as 
 guilty as a criminal
 
 SANPRIEL 87 
 
 After all, what had she to live for? She really 
 had no one, not a single human being. Arvid, the 
 children, all seemed so far away from her. Once 
 more it came over her, the strangeness of it all. 
 
 Music floated in at the window, mingled with 
 noise and laughter. 
 
 She could hear Gertrude's voice and Birger's 
 loud, unrestrained laugh. Involuntarily she 
 thought of Arvid. 
 
 What was this anyway that she thought she 
 could no longer endure? Of course she could. 
 So many others had endured worse things why 
 shouldn't she? 
 
 The clock struck one. The company below 
 was breaking up. The yard was filled with, merry, 
 boisterous people. 
 
 She listened for Birger's voice. Had he drunk 
 too much again? 
 
 She heard Samuel Stern's laugh. It approached 
 the house. What was he doing here? Of course 
 he was escorting the ladies home. 
 
 Her heart seemed to contract at the thought 
 of his happiness. Why should he not be happy, 
 he as well as the others? The truth was that she 
 had become a miserable wretch. 
 
 Gertrude came rushing in. 
 
 " You have not put out your light, Mamma ! 
 I thought you must have forgotten it."
 
 88 SANPRIEL 
 
 "What! haven't I? I thought all the time I 
 was lying here looking out into the dark. How 
 did you enjoy yourself? " 
 
 " Oh, hugely ! You may just believe that Omar 
 Pasha was in great spirits. He made all the 
 young girls fall in love with him . . . yes, all of 
 us. And it is a good thing too, for he has been 
 carrying on so in other directions. Fru Gyllen- 
 skjold she thought she had him for that matter. 
 You needn't look so disgusted, Mamma, for he is 
 a remarkable man; and it is such fun to see how 
 he manages to make others fall in love with him." 
 
 " I think you misunderstand Merchant Stern, 
 my child." 
 
 " No, Mamma, I think it is you who don't un- 
 derstand such things. That passionate, romantic 
 love which was the fashion in your day we have 
 broken away from I am glad to say. We amuse 
 ourselves but do.n't allow our hearts to break. 
 Papa always says that is the only way to do. I 
 shall sleep like a top Birger ? Yes, he has gone 
 
 to the Club. I can say good night for you 
 
 No, he didn't say anything about it, you know he 
 always has so much on hand. Now I'll put out 
 the light." 
 
 Fru Thammers lay down. Now she would go 
 to sleep. But her mind was on Birger who was 
 always so busy and who felt the need of being 
 care-free, not alone in vacation.
 
 SANPRIEL 89 
 
 What concern was it of hers if Samuel Stern 
 was fortunate and happy? She, from the depths 
 of her degradation, had no right to scorn any one. 
 Yet she felt a great desire to scorn this man 
 him alone. 
 
 Now was this going to keep her awake? 
 
 " Who will pray for me that I may sleep," she 
 whispered. 
 
 She thought of a little poem, the delicate rhythm 
 of which had often soothed her. Then came the 
 spirit of the poem itself who 
 
 " Took the thought and whispered : 
 Peace be to thee in thy sleep."
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 A WEEK had passed with a great deal of 
 rain. Then came a radiant day when 
 everyone, man and beast, sought the open air, thus 
 giving opportunity for the most wonderful things 
 to happen. 
 
 Blakken, the good old dairy horse, got into the 
 hallway and amused himself by tearing the finery 
 off the ladies' hats. Then Fru Liss, who was sit- 
 ting on the veranda, entertained herself by giv- 
 ing valerian to the kittens. 
 
 In passionate joy they licked the bowl, rolling 
 it round and round again, until their exuberance 
 reached such a pitch that she grew frightened and 
 called to Sjur, who was just starting out with the 
 flocks. Sjur came and all the live stock with him. 
 
 " Pussy, pussy . . . come now, you poor 
 things " 
 
 There was the little white bell-wether. She 
 took it by the collar. 
 
 " Aren't you ashamed of yourself? " 
 
 For here came the billy-goat, head down. She 
 shrieked. Sjur came forward with a protecting 
 air. 
 
 90
 
 SANPRIEL 91 
 
 " You needn't be afraid, he just does that for 
 fun." 
 
 Then came the calves, Red Star and Gold 
 Crown. 
 
 " You needn't be afraid," he said again, " they 
 won't hurt you." 
 
 He looked at the fine city lady in quiet scorn. 
 Such people had so little sense. 
 
 Sjur was a red-haired, freckled boy, so ugly 
 that his face was almost interesting, but with a 
 mildly clever expression and a silent longing in 
 his glance. He was the only one of the people 
 thereabouts whom Fru Liss could in any way un- 
 derstand. He had almost learned the city speech. 
 
 It had become the custom among the guests 
 there to get him to tell stories, and Sjur had no 
 objection to associating with the city people. His 
 ever fresh, insatiable curiosity concerning the out- 
 side world made him exceedingly obliging. 
 
 So, in order to get Fru Liss to tell something 
 afterward, he began to relate the story which she 
 always wanted him to give in detail, the story 
 about Rosebloom. At that moment Don Miguel 
 came up. He was among those who had no ap- 
 preciation for Sjur's stories. So Sjur had to go 
 without getting his pay, for Don Miguel, as he 
 twisted the ends of his long mustache, craved per- 
 mission to accompany Fru Liss to the Falls. She
 
 92 SANPRIEL 
 
 had promised one of the artists that she would 
 be on hand to pose for a picture. 
 
 The hotel was almost deserted. Even the old 
 ladies were nowhere to be seen. 
 
 When Fru Thammers came out she stood for 
 a moment in surprise. The bright sunshine over 
 all, added to the fact that there was no disturbing 
 human element in view, filled her with quiet joy. 
 There was not a living thing in sight except the 
 wagtails on the roof, and the two tame crows 
 which were eating their breakfast in the kitchen 
 entry. 
 
 She went up on Flyen. 
 
 It had been a sort of sport with her to look for 
 places where no one went except Sjur with his 
 flocks. 
 
 At times she followed the sound of Sjur's flute. 
 It amused her to talk with the clever little boy, 
 and to listen to him as he wandered about with his 
 flute, picking out airs and dance tunes. Some of 
 these he had learned at the hotel, others he had 
 gotten from the Bergegubbe, or the elves; and 
 others still he had evolved from his own youthful 
 fancy out there in the solitude of great Flyen. 
 
 She loved to sit and listen to the plaintive minor 
 strains, in silent understanding with all around, 
 yet voicing the intense longing of a soul. 
 
 It was interesting to watch the goats. When 
 they heard the flute they would turn their heads
 
 SANPRIEL 93 
 
 and come nearer. Sjur knew that they liked the 
 elfin tunes best, just as he knew what she would 
 rather hear. 
 
 Now she went over and asked for it. 
 
 " Is it true that you learned that of the Ber- 
 gegubbe? " 
 
 Sjur looked at her with his honest eyes while 
 he told how he had seen him plainly sitting on 
 a stump and playing an air on his flute; but as 
 soon as he got right in front of him he disappeared. 
 Then he went home and learned to play the same 
 thing on his flute. 
 
 And it was really true that another time Thor 
 Andrastsaeter came upon just such a Bergegubbe 
 when he was stealing his hay. But he was a very 
 practical fellow and he thought: " Now I'll just 
 put a stop to this." So he pulled the hay away 
 from him; but the next morning when he got up 
 he was so lame that he could hardly walk. Syver 
 Jotun had been out and had taken revenge on him. 
 
 No, it was easy enough for any one up here to 
 hear them singing in the mountains after sunset. 
 Or if any one wanted to come up after midnight 
 he could see flames coming out of the mountain, 
 and a green light over every stump where they 
 were. 
 
 But now Sjur wanted to know about the Boer 
 War and how long the Lord had decided to let 
 such things go on. Also he wanted to know how
 
 94 SANPRIEL 
 
 kings and presidents were killed, and what science 
 was good for, and if it might happen some time 
 that men would reach the moon, and why it was 
 that people no longer lived nine hundred years, 
 as they did in Methuselah's time. 
 
 There were many other things also that Sjur 
 wanted to know; and the goats, which are the 
 most curious of all animals, also came up, while 
 the sheep and the calves wandered peacefully 
 around nibbling the grass. 
 
 But the information that little Sjur received was 
 not always satisfactory. He was continually 
 strengthened in his belief that city people hadn't 
 much sense. 
 
 So it suited Fru Thammers very well when 
 finally the stock wandered farther on and Sjur 
 had to follow them. 
 
 She remained sitting there. It was so restful 
 to have no thought for any of this world's affairs, 
 just to watch the little animals as they wandered 
 about with no concern except to live. She too, it 
 came to her, had for the first time learned to live, 
 up here on Flyen. 
 
 She wondered how any one could torment one- 
 self as she had done. Was it perhaps because 
 the sun wasn't shining? 
 
 And what peace was there! Softly it came 
 streaming down from the long, silent ridges on
 
 SANPRIEL 95 
 
 the mild, billowy air, on the golden beams of the 
 sun 
 
 She knew not how time passed. Along the 
 horizon the sky grew red, and above the ridge 
 hung the dusk of evening. 
 
 There was a long-drawn sigh. The stillness 
 of the forest came out and settled down about her. 
 All grew dim, and deep, and solemn. The silent 
 God who wandered there among the trees, was 
 he bringing her secret help, a hidden strength? 
 Or was it welling forth from the depths of her 
 own soul? 
 
 She recalled something she once had read about 
 St. Francis: how he lay outside one cold winter 
 night, praying and struggling against his sinful 
 melancholy and his unrighteous longing for the 
 world when suddenly, from the thorns with 
 which he had been crucifying his flesh, roses sprang 
 forth ; his clothes were transformed and shone like 
 the snow about him. 
 
 " Holy Francis, when you reached your heaven 
 did you not learn that it was a misconception, the 
 idea that the world did not belong to you? " 
 
 How all human beings, the greatest as well as 
 the weakest, possess the faculty of deceiving them- 
 selves! Would it always be so difficult to under- 
 stand? 
 
 After all she was sorry for no one. The needs
 
 96 SANPRIEL 
 
 of humanity moved her no more than the miscon- 
 ceptions of St. Francis. She felt cold and hard. 
 It did her good. It was as if she had been sick 
 for a long time and finally had gotten well again. 
 
 Now she must be careful so as not to have a 
 relapse. 
 
 She saw Samuel Stern approaching. She had 
 scarcely seen him for a week, and had indeed 
 been thankful for it. She was most thankful for 
 that of which she saw the least. 
 
 She returned his greeting and then thought she 
 would go, but she did not. 
 
 There was something about Samuel Stern which 
 impelled people, without a word from him, to do 
 involuntarily as he wished. Now he desired that 
 she should stay. 
 
 He sat down on a stone opposite her. 
 
 She thought: " I am glad I have nothing to 
 say. I will not talk." 
 
 " Here you sit amid all the splendor of Flyen," 
 he said, smiling. " You must be a bird of pas- 
 sage. One never finds you where you were seen 
 last." 
 
 She moved a little farther away. There was 
 something in his voice, with all its mellowness, 
 that hurt her, that cut like a knife. It was, of 
 course, her unusual sensitiveness to voices, noth- 
 ing more. 
 
 He smiled again.
 
 SANPRIEL 97 
 
 " Pardon me, I did not hear what you said. 
 Do you know, when you sit there so silent, you 
 look just exactly as though you had said some- 
 thing. And that is quite right, since after all you 
 say more than when you speak." 
 
 " Yes, I know I am stupid." 
 
 " Nevertheless you are missed down below. 
 Yes, you know one always prizes most highly 
 what one lacks. When you are there the people 
 think very rightly that you are stupid; but when 
 you are not there they inquire for you." 
 
 She did not answer. 
 
 He came a little nearer. His voice took on a 
 different note, a deeper tone. 
 
 " Last year my mother was up here. She did 
 not talk with many people either. It was my 
 fault. I begrudged it." 
 
 Thora Thammers leaned over and plucked a 
 blade of grass. A tremor ran through her. 
 
 " Your mother! " she said softly. 
 
 " Yes, I have a mother." 
 
 She turned her gaze away. She dared not talk 
 with him about his mother. No, they must talk 
 of something else. But she could think of noth- 
 ing else except to ask if he spent much time on 
 Flyen. She did not think it suited to him. 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 "Why should I not walk on my own Flyen? 
 I am lord of Flyen, especially at night. Then
 
 9 8 SANPRIEL 
 
 here I am myself again, that is, my earlier self. 
 In fact, it is here that all my dead selves come 
 together." 
 
 His voice had changed again. She looked at 
 him. 
 
 " Yes, one ought to take all sides of one's per- 
 son into consideration. In the daytime I go 
 about among the flesh pots of Egypt, taking all 
 that I can for myself, and I am myself. At night 
 I come up here and roam about, quite another per- 
 son, yet still I am myself." 
 
 " Is it you who " 
 
 " Yes, it is I whom you see coming down at 
 daybreak. At times I have seen you standing at 
 your window. I wander about up here and peer 
 into the Promised Land." 
 
 " The Promised Land," she repeated softly. 
 " Once on a time I dreamed about that." 
 
 " But I have seen it. For that is what I call 
 the view from here, that is, to myself, in greatest 
 secrecy. I tell you only in the strictest confidence. 
 Don't repeat it." 
 
 He glanced at her as she sat there, with the 
 pained expression about the mouth, and the big, 
 silent eyes. 
 
 Then he continued : 
 
 ' That is since last year when Mother was here. 
 She sat looking at the view one evening. It was 
 difficult for her to get about, but she had gotten
 
 SANPRIEL 99 
 
 up here. It was such a triumph we both thought. 
 She turned toward me. In her eyes I saw that 
 intense longing which I had seen before at times. 
 
 " ' It is beautiful,' she said. ' Not for you, but 
 for me it lies there as the unattainable, that shin- 
 ing land up there a picture of all that I have 
 longed for. It lies there like the Promised Land, 
 which I shall never enter. 
 
 " ' But I have seen it,' she said and smiled. ' I 
 have seen others go m, and I have dreamed that 
 some time they will reach there, the many who 
 have brought happiness to me.' 
 
 " And she looked at me : ' I am hoping for 
 you, my boy, that you may enter in. Remember, 
 you must go farther than I have.' 
 
 ' Then I humbled myself. I knelt before my 
 beloved mother and looked into her bright blue 
 eyes, with their expression so sorrowful, yet strong 
 and undaunted. I asked: ' Can you tell me, 
 Mother, why the Lord did not take Moses up 
 on the wings of an eagle and bear him into the 
 promised land? Yes, like an eagle should he have 
 spread out his wings and borne him along, for it 
 is written that he was great and the meekest of 
 all the earth. And can you tell me, Mother, 
 why he has closed this land to you? For you are 
 strong like Moses, and yet more gentle than any 
 one I know.' 
 
 " Then my mother laughed at me. She always
 
 ioo SANPRIEL 
 
 laughs when I say such things, but I know that 
 they are true. 
 
 "This year she did not come; but in remem- 
 brance of the fact that she was here, I have named 
 the little house where we lived together and where 
 I live alone now, Mount Pisgah. It faces toward 
 the east. From there I can look into the Prom- 
 ised Land. 
 
 " The others go up there, but I do so no longer. 
 I prefer to come where I can look in. 
 
 " Now I have told you a little about my mother. 
 I have never talked with any one else about her." 
 
 Suddenly he changed, and in a jesting way: 
 
 " Yes, for you, know, of course, you are con- 
 sidered such a ' noble ' sort of person." 
 
 As she listened a pallor overspread her face. 
 The sound of his voice as he stood there she 
 closed her eyes brought back to mind all the 
 dead and forgotten past. 
 
 Again she was hurt by his change in tone. She 
 could not follow his mood, and his lightness of 
 manner irritated her as she took his jest in earnest. 
 
 " No one must believe that of me. Why should 
 I be called noble?" 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " No, I agree with you that you have no legal 
 claim to be called noble. Do you know my wife? 
 She thinks people are always full of faults." 
 
 She did not answer immediately. It was at
 
 SANPRIEL 10 1 
 
 least a satisfaction that she could sit here so quietly 
 and talk with this man. It was like making his 
 acquaintance over again. And about his wife? 
 She would be glad to talk about her. It was with 
 a certain sort of curiosity that she turned toward 
 him again. 
 
 " It is very nice that you have your wife with 
 you up here." 
 
 " Yes, it is indeed. She looks after my faults 
 and runs down my illusions. Such things are good 
 for one, although for that matter, it does not affect 
 me particularly. For, as Goethe says, what kind 
 of a man is it who would dare complain about him- 
 self? And that marriage may be slightly uncom- 
 fortable was discovered before our time. For 
 the rest we are a very sensible married couple. 
 We talk together very little. In fact we have the 
 faculty of conversing at a distance. My wife 
 never answers what I say, but what she thinks 
 I say; and she very willingly assumes, as people 
 say, that it is foolish." 
 
 She looked at him intently. 
 
 Why was he telling her all this? She had al- 
 ways been such a simpleton about taking every- 
 thing so seriously. It didn't trouble him the least 
 bit. He was just amused by it. Nevertheless it 
 annoyed her. 
 
 " I think your wife is very charming," she said, 
 in order to say something.
 
 102 SANPRIEL 
 
 " Of course she is charming. She has eyes that 
 shine in the dark, and velvety hands, and some- 
 thing that I call her velvet fury. You would en- 
 joy knowing her." 
 
 " You certainly never take anything to heart." 
 
 " Why should I? Have we not been enjoined 
 to let each day take care of its own troubles? " 
 
 She turned quickly toward him. 
 
 " What do you do about the others? " 
 
 "What others?" 
 
 " All those that are past." 
 
 " Oh, yes, it is the blessed past that people set 
 such store by, women in particular. They are 
 frightful about going around carrying more than 
 they can bear. But what shall one do with all the 
 troublesome baggage? In the old days if there 
 was a flood one could just heave such things over- 
 board. Even now that could be done." 
 
 He looked at her with a peculiar side-glance. 
 
 She rose. 
 
 " I must go home. I cannot understand what 
 you say." 
 
 " I thank you, Madame, for your angelic pa- 
 tience, and am glad to find that you are sensible. 
 Let us not talk together too often or too long. 
 Let us simply be friends." 
 
 "Simply?" 
 
 ' Yes ! Don't you know that friends can reach 
 the point where they can't endure the sight of one
 
 SANPRIEL 103 
 
 another? That is for the very reason that they 
 have stripped one another of all ornament and 
 splendor, leaving bare the sharp corners on which 
 they stumble and hurt themselves." 
 
 She went forward a few steps, then turned. 
 
 " You for a friend? That daring feat no one 
 ought to attempt, who is not free from baggage." 
 
 He started toward her, then stopped. 
 
 "What is it about you? There is something 
 white around you. Also there is something you 
 have forgotten, the years that you have lived. 
 Do you know what the old priest said the evening 
 you arrived? He glanced up from his pipe and 
 looked you over quite concerned : ' You poor 
 child, what have they done to you ? ' Then he 
 went on with his smoking. I also looked. Every- 
 one stared at you." 
 
 She looked at him for a moment, bewildered, 
 astonished. 
 
 Was everything, all forgotten? Or had it 
 never been? Was it only she who had once had 
 a horrible dream? 
 
 Then she laughed. 
 
 " What a strange priest! Don't you think so? 
 Where are you going now? " 
 
 " Over to hear great Pan sleep. When all 
 good Christian people have gone to bed it is so 
 pleasant here. If my luck is good I may have an
 
 io 4 SANPRIEL 
 
 opportunity to hear the Bergefrue * and her 
 maidens ' wandering and singing and dancing.' 
 To be sure some troublesome people maintain 
 that it is only the dripping of the water inside the 
 mountain." 
 
 He took a daisy from his button-hole. 
 
 " You shall have my white blossom. It is the 
 whitest flower in the field, the first that promised 
 that it would do no harm to Balder." 
 
 "No, no!" she said hastily. "Do not give 
 me a white flower, it is not suitable. White is 
 not my color. Good-night." 
 
 She nodded and started hurriedly down the 
 slope. 
 
 Never had she felt more foolish and awkward. 
 It was the same feeling she so often had when 
 she was with Arvid and her clever children. How 
 easily everybody takes things! 
 
 No, she need not be afraid to talk with that 
 man. For was she not indeed an old woman? 
 And he? Perhaps he had never thought a word 
 about the whole affair. For the first time this 
 occurred to her. 
 
 It was rather late just to begin to understand 
 life. Now she also would try to take things 
 lightly, just as Arvid and the others did and 
 this man who had the happy faculty of being able 
 to forget from one day to another. 
 
 1 The bergefrue or hougfrue, a character in Norwegian folk- 
 lore, the queen of the elves or hillfolk.
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 IT was a perfect day. 
 Immediately after breakfast Thora Tham- 
 mers took her book and her work and went up 
 on Flyen. It was now August. In a few days 
 she would be going home. She did not want to 
 think about it. Anyway she had the long day 
 before her to be alone. 
 
 And how the sun did shine. Its rays came 
 down like a stream of gold. She thought she 
 could hear them softly humming in their golden 
 splendor; and all around her was the heath with 
 its faint sounds and delicate colors melting into 
 one. 
 
 Was there no wind to-day? 
 
 She had gotten into the way of sitting there 
 listening, to see if it were not coming, or if some- 
 thing else would not happen. 
 
 Down in the parlor below, she often sat, stu- 
 pidly paying no attention to what was being said. 
 But up here she was always on the alert, listening 
 for all the soft sounds which were barely audible. 
 Then would come a breath from the lake or a 
 drowsy murmur from the river. 
 
 And to-day at last the wind had come after 
 105
 
 io6 SANPRIEL 
 
 all. She heard its deep, billowy breathing. It 
 was there. Its roar was like the song of a power- 
 ful, many-stringed instrument. The tones seemed 
 to come from the whole earth 
 
 A cold little nose touched her ear for they 
 were good friends, those two. 
 
 It was Donna, Samuel Stern's young hound. 
 
 The dog stuck her sleek head up into her face 
 and gazed at her. In the soft glance of her eye 
 there was an uncertainty, the vagueness of a force 
 not yet awakened. 
 
 With the dog came Samuel Stern of course. 
 She had not spoken to him for several days. It 
 had just happened that way, for she no longer 
 avoided him. 
 
 He came over and sat down. 
 
 "How are you?" she asked smilingly. 
 
 " Heaven dwells in my soul as in the heart of 
 a young girl who is beloved, as Goethe says." 
 
 1 You are no Goethe lover. One can tell that 
 by your quotations." 
 
 " Is this not a magnificent day? Such a day 
 as God creates for his saints, but which the sin- 
 ners enjoy." 
 
 ' We poor sinners, are we then to be accused 
 of stealing our sunshine? " 
 
 ' Yes, you spend altogether too much time here 
 on Flyen. You sit here like a sibyl, listening to 
 the heart-beat of the world and writing your wis-
 
 SANPRIEL 107 
 
 dom on the leaves, only to scatter it to the winds ; 
 and you are in complete ignorance of all our hap- 
 penings. Why were you not at the farewell cele- 
 bration yesterday? " 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 ;< When I was small if there was going to be 
 company at home I was always so impatient. I 
 remember once I stood in a corner and prayed 
 that the visitors would come. Now I would 
 rather get away from people." 
 
 She laughed again. She was in good spirits. 
 
 She had a sweet little mellow laugh that seemed 
 to melt away among the flowers. 
 
 " Is there anything going on? " she asked. 
 
 " A great deal. According to official report 
 the Adjunct has been made a Knight of the North- 
 ern Star in the service of the King and the Father- 
 land and of humanity, as if that were something 
 entirely different. Also, Her Majesty Fru Tha- 
 mar Gyllenskjold has gone." 
 
 Thora smiled as she sat stroking Donna's deli- 
 cate head, while Samuel Stern watched the grace- 
 ful, somewhat nervous hands. He continued: 
 
 " She always tells me that it is her husband who 
 has such great influence in city affairs, but I don't 
 believe her. Her husband possesses nothing more 
 than the ordinary man's intelligence. Of what 
 avail is that when opposed to hers? With the 
 greatest ease she rules him, and hence the city
 
 log SANPRIEL 
 
 authorities, without any one having the slightest 
 suspicion of it, for she governs from so far back 
 in the depths of the council chamber." 
 
 " Is this the lady of your heart of whom you 
 speak?" 
 
 " Fru Gyllenskjold is a beautiful woman, to look 
 upon. Her slippers charm the eyes of man. 
 Likewise she is not stupid. But one would never 
 entrust a heart to her keeping." 
 
 " They must all fear you. Why do they call 
 you Omar Pasha? " 
 
 " Oh, that is Fru Gyllenskjold. She must have 
 found some resemblance. According to tradition 
 God loved him, but would never allow him to at- 
 tain his desire." 
 
 She glanced at him. At times his eyes seemed 
 to withdraw beneath his brows and glow like burn- 
 ing coals. 
 
 She moved a little farther away. She plucked 
 some flowers and tied them up with blades of grass. 
 
 "Is there any more news? I am sure, you 
 know . . . for I think . . . no, there really is 
 nothing " 
 
 " Froken Schaum has gone also. She could not 
 work here. There is an author who has not gone 
 at it in the right way. She ought to make away 
 with herself. Let us hope that she will make 
 quick work of it. A woman ought not to be tor- 
 tured too much. Do you know, that mild little
 
 SANPRIEL 109 
 
 woman is akin to the terrible pedagogues of the 
 1 6th century. These ladies who do not know how 
 to write are altogether too rash." 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 "How is that?" 
 
 He continued: 
 
 " It is not the mild little Froken Schaum alone 
 with whom we are concerned. Since our civiliza- 
 tion has not yet advanced far enough, or if you 
 will, so long as our natural understanding is not 
 yet clever enough so but that we involuntarily con- 
 sider a book better when we think it is written by 
 a man why, in Heaven's name, do not women 
 call themselves Mons, or Hans, or Nils Peter? 
 One ought to use a little common sense." 
 
 " That is just what women do not possess, in 
 your opinion." 
 
 ' Yes, some of them do. George Sand and 
 George Eliot were clever enough to build up their 
 reputation under a man's name. People were 
 fooled into thinking that George Eliot was an 
 old clergyman, and that saved her. Rosa Bon- 
 heur went about in a man's costume at the most 
 critical time in her career. Otherwise she would 
 have been devoured. But this foolish creature 
 here, she will obtain results just in accordance with 
 her methods." 
 
 " Let us hope that she will succeed." 
 
 She laughed again. She was in such good spir-
 
 i io SANPRIEL 
 
 its. She was watching some ants that were drag- 
 ging something off. They really interested her 
 more. It was queer, bat she cared so little. It 
 did not affect her in the least to hear about all 
 these women who had been so successful, and 
 about this one who was going to fail. In fact 
 she would prefer not to hear anything more. 
 
 " Have any others gone? " she asked, however. 
 "I thought ... no, it was nothing " She 
 smilingly shook her head. 
 
 " Yes, the Adjunct. One misses his attempts 
 at witticism. And to-morrow two of the most 
 charming of our free-minded young ladies go." 
 
 " Oh, then you will have to quiet down if both 
 Fru Gyllenskjold and the young ladies are gone. 
 I thought " 
 
 " Do you always think so much? I mean, are 
 you not accustomed to use that word somewhat 
 at random? " 
 
 His tone was light. 
 
 1 You look so shocked. Out with it ! " 
 ' Very well, it is quickly said. I have won- 
 dered if those ladies down there were not quite 
 necessary for your happiness? Must you not al- 
 ways have a number to worship you, while you 
 yourself take it easy? You must excuse me. I 
 am always afraid to say anything, for I am sure 
 to say too much. One ought not to do that, but
 
 SANPRIEL in 
 
 I think, yes, I do think you are spoiled by the 
 women." 
 
 Scared by what she had said, she leaned over 
 and stroked Donna's neck. She heard the scorn 
 in his voice as he laughed. 
 
 " You do me too much honor, Madame. So 
 that is what you think! I certainly must be 
 wicked, people are so greatly concerned about my 
 soul's welfare. But what is it they are criticising? 
 Something that is here to-day and gone to-mor- 
 row, something far out in the periphery of my 
 being. Man is a most complex mechanism. 
 
 " No, one who has a mother like mine does not 
 allow himself to be spoiled by any woman. In 
 fact, I do not invite them in, these ladies I en- 
 tertain them in the outer court, but they are never 
 admitted to the temple." 
 
 She sat erect. 
 
 " I should like to tell you about my mother. 
 Will you listen?" 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " She has always understood me. She is my 
 comrade, my best friend. She is Moses who is 
 leading me toward the Promised Land; but she is 
 not like Moses who became tired. She never 
 grows weary, therefore I can never be lost. 
 
 " I had to leave home early. She said to me: 
 ' It is unfortunate for you, my boy, that I am
 
 ii2 SANPRIEL 
 
 obliged to send you from me; but it is your oppor- 
 tunity to see if you can win through.' It hap- 
 pened as Mother feared. It was difficult for me. 
 But all my sins I took to her everything that I 
 did amiss, and for which I sorrowed and suffered, 
 with all that I went to Mother. 
 
 " She never turned away. She understood my 
 nature. She knew about it all, the evil tenden- 
 cies which I had inherited, and my own despicable 
 qualities; but she had no fear. She did not let 
 me lie when I was struck down. Such a love, 
 with its silent forgiveness and tender pity, has a 
 power to protect and save. It is the atmosphere 
 of home hovering round one." 
 
 He spoke mildly and slowly. He was looking 
 down so she could not see his eyes. 
 
 Suddenly he turned toward her. 
 
 "What did you say?" 
 
 "Nothing no, I said nothing." 
 
 " I am going to confide in you. In fact, there 
 was once a young woman for whom I opened the 
 door of the temple. There was a place for her 
 beside my mother who was waiting inside. I had 
 told Mother that she was coming, and she crossed 
 the court. White butterflies followed her. But 
 when she had set her foot on the threshold she 
 turned and went away again. She did not un- 
 derstand that she stood on holy ground/ 
 
 " Then I said to Mother : ' It is over. The
 
 SANPRIEL 113 
 
 white butterflies will come here no more.' But 
 she said : ' Now is your opportunity to grow, to 
 rise above yourself.' 
 
 " Then again came a time when I thought all 
 was ended. But Mother smiled : ' Nothing is 
 at an end.' She possessed in her soul the gift of 
 understanding. No one understands like a 
 woman who does understand. No one sees so 
 far into the soul of another. Therefore I wor- 
 ship my mother. She is the only woman whom 
 I worship. I have lost faith in other women. I 
 learned that from the one who turned away. I 
 name her as accomplice in all that I have done 
 amiss." 
 
 Thora Thammers sprang up from the stone 
 where she was sitting. Her lips grew white and 
 seemed to shrivel. She had felt that something 
 was coming. She had noticed his voice which 
 had altered until she no longer recognized it. 
 
 She stared at him. 
 
 He stood there transformed heavy, 
 
 strong, with the dark flame in his eye. 
 
 Now for the first time she recognized him as 
 he once was. It was as if he had risen before her 
 unchanged through the long vanished years. 
 
 She looked at him in dumb terror. 
 
 Was it her fault? His, his crime was it 
 
 hers? 
 
 He laughed.
 
 ii 4 SANPRIEL 
 
 "And you? Are you satisfied with your de- 
 velopment? Was it not more than commenda- 
 ble of you to become the mother of those children? 
 I wonder if they are not more like children born 
 out of wedlock? " 
 
 Suddenly she grew calm and quiet. Her blood 
 seemed frozen within her and it was a relief. 
 
 With bowed head she stood there. 
 
 Both were silent. He breathed heavily as if 
 from physical exertion. 
 
 " I had to say it," he said quietly at last. " It 
 had to be said once." 
 
 She looked up. 
 
 " Yes . . . yes," she said hesitatingly. 
 
 Then she smiled and raised her head. Her 
 throat swelled. Her blood began to move and a 
 light flashed in her eye. 
 
 " It does not matter," she said, and laughed. 
 " Anyway, you are quite right." 
 
 She turned her face toward him. They looked 
 into one another's eyes. 
 
 ' Thora," he said heavily, " give me permis- 
 sion to pronounce that name once more, that name 
 so silent and reserved, like yourself." 
 
 She smiled bitterly. 
 
 " Of what use is it?" 
 
 ' What are you thinking about? " 
 
 " Oh," she said slowly, " of something I once 
 read in the Coptic Bible: But the Lord said to
 
 SANPRIEL 115 
 
 his disciples, ' Do you not see that the animal is 
 bleeding, and do you not hear how it shrieks and 
 moans?' Then the disciples said, 'No, Lord! 
 We do not hear it shrieking and moaning.' . . . 
 So with us ... we do not hear one another." 
 
 " Explain yourself," he begged. " Answer me. 
 Say something more." 
 
 " I will, sometime later." 
 
 " To-morrow? " 
 
 She did not answer, but started off. 
 
 He stood there gazing after her. He saw the 
 slender, slightly bent figure outlined against the 
 sky then it seemed to sink down into Flyen. 
 
 He could see her no longer, but he could still 
 hear her last word. Flyen had caught it, all 
 Flyen was full of it. ... To-morrow? Would 
 she come to-morrow? 
 
 But early next morning Fru Thammers left. 
 They said a telegram had come from her hus- 
 band. 
 
 Gradually people grew bored and went away. 
 As if they had all silently agreed that they could 
 no longer endure one another, the daily question 
 was, " Who is going next? " They no longer took 
 any notice of new arrivals. They were too much 
 concerned with those who were leaving. 
 
 Among the older people the chief subject of 
 discussion was, whether one ought to go or not
 
 u6 SANPRIEL 
 
 among the younger, how many of the farewell 
 celebrations had been deserved. 
 
 Yet there were a few who in a way found it 
 more enjoyable now at the end of the season than 
 when there were so many there. 
 
 Among these was Marit Hennerud, the young 
 hostess of Forest Home. As she had more time 
 then to be with her guests, it was always toward 
 the end of the season that she had her little love 
 affairs. Early in the summer a certain young man 
 had been very unhappy on her account; but she 
 had been too busy then to give him any of her 
 time. Now, however, she was ready for a climb 
 up the mountain, or preferably, for an evening 
 row on the water. 
 
 If it so happened that the one on whom she had 
 set her heart had to leave too soon, then she would 
 weep bitterly as if death itself had come to 
 her. But a few days after she would be filled 
 with laughter at the thought of it. 
 
 Sometimes, however, the case seemed more 
 serious. Then she would think that this was real 
 love which had finally come to her, and she would 
 confide in her old aunt. Each time the old lady 
 would caution her to be faithful and constant so 
 that it might come out all right. To the sorrow 
 of her family Marit Hennerud had gotten into the 
 habit of rejecting her suitors. It was not her
 
 SANPRIEL 117 
 
 fault that love vanished when it came too near. 
 The little summer affairs were what suited her 
 best. 
 
 The days go by until the last one comes, and 
 the last guest drives off after the last friendly 
 words, " Come again," with the final cheery call 
 down the hill : " For another summer is com- 
 ing! " 
 
 Then everything is closed and locked up, and 
 Marit goes down once more to the village, where 
 the rejected suitors feel a glow at the heart every 
 time they look at her. 
 
 This is the fault of the eyes which gaze upon 
 them all so sweetly and so sentimentally; but as 
 she herself never thinks anything about it, it is 
 just as well not to try to make any change.
 
 II 
 
 It was the time of the wild rose.
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 SO everyone had gone, each to his own home. 
 And it was winter. 
 
 To many the time seemed long. It grew cold, 
 and the days were short. 
 
 Over forest and mountain desolation reigned. 
 Everything was closed and locked up as though 
 no one were at home. The trees, wrapped in 
 their white mantles, stood there asleep, uncon- 
 scious even of themselves. No one spoke, unless 
 it was the wind as it went prowling around in 
 search of prey. 
 
 The snow froze hard, and gleamed and shone. 
 It built a magnificent castle, bringing together 
 there gold, and silver, and diamonds. But it was 
 cold in the great hall, white and still, as if the 
 Angel of Death lay dreaming within. 
 
 There were many for whom the entire winter 
 was merely a period of waiting until it should go 
 again. At last, however, a message came that 
 summer was on the way. 
 
 Everything took on a different aspect. A rest- 
 lessness came over both man and nature. Out in 
 the woods and in the meadows, up from the earth 
 rose the sap, bubbling like new wine. And the 
 
 121
 
 122 SANPRIEL 
 
 longing for spring broke through the snow, spread- 
 ing its blue-golden glow over slope and hill. 
 
 When field and meadow lay shining green un-- 
 der the white drifts, then Marit Hennerud began 
 to grow uneasy down in the village. 
 
 And when the warm winds and the bright nights 
 came the Forest Home Hotel was all in order, 
 ready to welcome the guests of the previous year. 
 
 One by one they came. 
 
 Elegant and red-cheeked, with the same bland 
 smile, and yet perhaps a trifle more impressive 
 than the year before, the Adjunct went around 
 taking the census. 
 
 Yes, they were there all except Merchant 
 Stern and his two hounds. The Adjunct did not 
 miss them; but Marit Hennerud and many others 
 were quite concerned. They could get no satis- 
 faction from Fru von Asten. She was more in- 
 terested in talking about the young engineer who 
 was busy inventing a new instrument of destruc- 
 tion. 
 
 There was also a number of new guests, be- 
 sides some married men who had come up with 
 their wives and were going to stay a few days. 
 
 The season promised to be a most delightful 
 one. Everyone was in good humor. They had 
 already begun painting the Falls. 
 
 It was one of the first days that it was really
 
 SANPRIEL 123 
 
 warm enough to sit out-doors. They sat on the 
 great veranda in small groups, talking together. 
 
 Fru Thamar Gyllenskjold was talking with her 
 husband and had eyes for no one else. Fru 
 Gyllenskjold's husband was a stately looking man. 
 His tranquil face, with its open expression of force 
 and intelligence, formed a striking contrast to 
 hers, which was likewise tranquil in a way. But 
 there were fine lines which showed how her 
 thoughts were given to subtle change. Some- 
 thing would flash for a moment like the beat of 
 a wing, then vanish almost before one had caught 
 a glimpse of it. And involuntarily the eyes 
 would reveal a consciousness of power which again 
 would quickly disappear in the splendor of her 
 smile. 
 
 As she sat there conversing interrogatively with 
 her husband, she was unspeakably fascinating. 
 That was one of her talents, asking people agree- 
 able little questions quite aimlessly for that 
 matter, because she never paid the slightest atten- 
 tion to the answer. But this was something the 
 Director had never comprehended. He was, in 
 fact, very well pleased that it was always he who 
 must arrange everything, and that she was always 
 satisfied with whatever he did. 
 
 A short distance away sat Fru Liss, otherwise 
 Fru Wanda Arescho, with her dignified and dis-
 
 i2 4 SANPRIEL 
 
 tinguished husband. He also was one of those 
 fortunate men who this year had been able to ac- 
 company his little wife, and assure himself that 
 she was comfortably located. 
 
 Fru Liss was beaming. Her coloring this year 
 was that of nature. It was becoming to her, en- 
 tirely so. She sat there chattering and zealously 
 working her small fingers. 
 
 Quite near them sat Don Miguel, as carefully 
 groomed as ever, and if possible, with mustachios 
 still more daringly twisted than before. 
 
 Secretary Arescho saw no one but his little wife. 
 He was not to be blamed for this, since he was to 
 leave the next day. 
 
 There were some who thought he needed to stay 
 in the mountains, as overworked as he looked. 
 Fru Liss admitted it, but it could not be helped; 
 Frederick just had to work. For that matter, 
 it never occurred to her to think of Frederick ex- 
 cept as hard at work. And he was so accustomed 
 to it; just fancy, she thought it did him no harm. 
 But it was so annoying that he always looked so 
 poorly. Yes, it certainly was annoying for her. 
 
 He said nothing, only smiled. 
 
 Those who had known him before his mar- 
 riage thought he was greatly changed. 
 
 As an unmarried man he had lived with his 
 mother and aunt. At that time he^had not the 
 man's fine reverence for woman which can make
 
 SANPRIEL 125 
 
 such relations so beautiful. Nevertheless, they 
 loved him, although his egotism and natural indo- 
 lence had taught him to take things easily, and to 
 receive without taking the trouble to give any- 
 thing in return. Doubtless, however, they knew 
 that he was fond of them. 
 
 Now all this was changed. Now it was he who 
 had to think of others, although he had as yet 
 scarcely begun to realize it, being still in the grasp 
 of that sort of infatuation which, as long as it 
 lasts, blinds and makes a slave of one. At times 
 he became conscious of the importance of all these 
 little attentions which he had never thought of 
 before, and there awakened within him a certain 
 wonder, a faint perception of something he had 
 once neglected, of something he never again would 
 have an opportunity to do. 
 
 Just at this moment this feeling had come over 
 him, and his face became so thoughtful that it was 
 not strange that Fru Liss for the moment really 
 forgot that he was there especially since Don 
 Miguel, in his atrocious tenor voice, had begun to 
 tell some of his malicious stories. 
 
 The others around also became more lively. 
 
 Fru Sahm had gotten the learned young doc- 
 tor in a corner. She wanted to know if love ex- 
 isted in the secondary period, and if man could 
 be said to be a variety, or an original species. 
 
 In order to tease the Adjunct, a young lady had
 
 126 SANPRIEL 
 
 offered to deliver a lecture on a theme never be- 
 fore adequately treated: masculine weaknesses. 
 
 Other young people had surrounded Student 
 Adelsson, a dark-haired Norlander with intrepid 
 blue eyes. He had a certain cosmopolitan air. 
 He had been out in the world, had traveled for a 
 couple of years, and had just now come straight 
 from Nice. He interested them, for he was so re- 
 freshingly reckless in his speech. In fact, he was 
 worse than Omar Pasha. 
 
 He glowed with anger over the fact that France 
 would tolerate, within her borders so to speak, 
 a gambling place like Monte Carlo. The em- 
 peror had allowed it to be established, but the 
 republic ought to forbid it. It was a sin against 
 humanity. 
 
 The next moment it was the old race of princes 
 that was under consideration, as history shows 
 it to us, impoverished, degenerated beyond God's 
 favor. It seems to be very difficult for any such 
 to become even ordinarily honest people, still 
 more difficult for them than for others to attain 
 the rank of real men. 
 
 Some one ventured the witty remark that he 
 must be the only person who was in possession of 
 his full senses. 
 
 But he was not through. He continued: 
 
 Down there he had met what to him was a 
 
 new race of human beings. They had seemed
 
 SANPRIEL 127 
 
 like the most common sort, worse than the poor- 
 est people. They believed that Providence had 
 supplied them with money, just so they might en- 
 joy themselves which they could not do. But, 
 bless my soul, how they could bore themselves. 
 One could see them going about yawning in the 
 midst of all the magnificence of the world. 
 
 The young ladies thought it time to change the 
 subject, so they asked about the costumes that 
 were to be seen on that elegant world promenade. 
 
 He laughed. Was there really something else ? 
 Yes, he couldn't help noticing some of them 
 or rather, some that were not, for the ladies now- 
 a-days seemed to be trying to solve the same 
 problem that in olden times Queen Kraaka was 
 obliged to solve, only in the reverse order: how 
 to be clothed and yet naked. It was really won- 
 derful to see how respectable women hastened to 
 take up fashions introduced by and for the demi- 
 monde. He did not think it showed great intel- 
 ligence, but that perhaps was a quality that had 
 died out. In the old days they burned clever 
 women. Then there was something he had no- 
 ticed, the particularly awkward way in which they 
 held up their dresses. What has become of the 
 great heritage which they must once have received 
 from the Graces? 
 
 The ladies withdrew. Either he was a Bo- 
 hemian, or an outright socialist, or a superman.
 
 128 SANPRIEL 
 
 The Adjunct, for the benefit of Dean Hemb, 
 was expounding his theory that a minister's aim 
 should be to make the higher atmosphere accessi- 
 ble to mankind, while at the same time he should 
 be on the alert for the needs of the young. The 
 Dean came over to remonstrate with the young 
 man for his presumptuous words. 
 
 The Adjunct laughed, and promising to keep 
 silent, placed himself in the doorway where he 
 stood gazing at Fru Gyllenskjold. As he did this, 
 he showed himself so helplessly in love that for 
 a full fortnight he became one of the most fas- 
 cinating topics of conversation. 
 
 The Dean took the opportunity to get hold of 
 Merchant Iversen. Here was an entirely differ- 
 ent sort of fellow. With Iversen he could talk 
 about things that were worth while. So he began 
 with the subject of phosphate fertilizers. 
 
 Iversen had been thinking about buying some 
 property where there was a remarkably rich bog, 
 but Nina didn't like 
 
 " Now if you could just give me your reason 
 for it, Nina Mother." 
 
 Fru Iversen sat beside her husband, embroid- 
 ering roses on a fine net and had no ideas for any- 
 thing else; but as her husband grew insistent she 
 became somewhat irritated. 
 
 " Let me alone, Iversen ! Reason, that is one 
 of the worst words in statistics. But heavens, I
 
 SANPRIEL 129 
 
 do declare if there isn't Madame Harder, in her 
 black dress, of course! " 
 
 " Yes," said a lady. " People say that she 
 goes calmly about in mourning for a man who 
 was not her husband. They even know who he 
 was, but it is too unpleasant a subject." 
 
 Conversation ceased. It was very seldom that 
 she showed herself among them. 
 
 Even Don Miguel was silent, although he had 
 just reached the point of his story. He gave his 
 mustache a twist as he stared at her. 
 
 There was something about her not chic, it 
 was something more " a born princess," one of 
 the few among princesses and such like, who really 
 corresponded to the idea represented by the word. 
 
 His eyes followed her as she came up the steps. 
 No, it was rather what one usually calls regal, the 
 something which seemed to envelope her. It did 
 not escape him either, that she possessed that deli- 
 cate, maidenly charm which elderly unmarried 
 women most often preserve, and which married 
 women most often lose. 
 
 And he, who otherwise always knew what la- 
 dies had on, did not notice the simple black gown 
 which had caused such scandal. He merely 
 thought that she looked different each time he 
 saw her so unlike other good people whom 
 one met and grew tired of. 
 
 It was really remarkable, for she was pale and
 
 i 3 o SANPRIEL 
 
 thin, without any special beauty, and old looking. 
 Nevertheless, there was a beauty about her, about 
 the head as she carried it, and in the bright glance, 
 the saintly fervor. No woman ever before had 
 beguiled Don Miguel into such meditations. 
 
 Many of the others felt much the same way, as 
 she smilingly greeted them. 
 
 Don Miguel brought out a chair from the par- 
 lor. 
 
 She thanked him, but remained standing with 
 her hand on the high back. 
 
 " I merely wanted to say . . . there is a 
 poor minister's widow with six children, living 
 down in the village. Her house recently burned 
 down and she has lost everything. There was no 
 insurance. Do you not all want to do something 
 for her?" 
 
 Some began talking about a subscription list. 
 
 " How terribly sad! " interrupted Fru Liss all 
 at once. And tears seemed on the point of start- 
 ing in her great blue eyes. " But," she added, as 
 she folded her little hands, " widows invariably 
 come out all right. Indeed one often notices how 
 incredibly well things turn out for them; so per- 
 haps it isn't necessary at once just fancy, I 
 think " 
 
 She stopped. She suddenly remembered what 
 Fru Gyllenskjold had once said, that if there were 
 no trouble then no one would know that he was
 
 SANPRIEL 131 
 
 well off. And what would the poets have to write 
 about? All mankind would die of ennui. There 
 really was something in it. And now since it was 
 all ordained . . . the Lord of course had ar- 
 ranged everything as he wanted it. 
 
 She looked all tired out with thinking. 
 
 Anyway, she didn't like the idea of a subscrip- 
 tion list. If they really must do something she 
 would rather have a bazaar. She could get out 
 of that more cheaply. Among her talents econ- 
 omy played an important role; for when she 
 bought anything for herself it was always so dear 
 that she was absolutely obliged to save when she 
 was buying for others. And she could get out 
 of this with some little trifle if it only looked 
 dainty. 
 
 So Fru Liss voted for the bazaar, although she 
 really had thought she would get away from such 
 things here. Moreover, such people were al- 
 ways so ungrateful. 
 
 Adele Harder had stood looking at her with a 
 faint smile. 
 
 Then she said: 
 
 " Few people understand the art of giving. 
 One should give carefully so as not to take more 
 than is given, and thus increase the suffering which 
 comes from being poor. For one should give to 
 strengthen and heal. Then few know how to ac- 
 cept, either. They are not sufficiently proud, but
 
 i 3 2 SANPRIEL 
 
 allow themselves to be humiliated. That ought 
 not to be. They should know that if the troubles 
 of life are thus increased, then one is like a sol- 
 dier at a difficult post. We owe respect to those 
 who hold their own, and to those who suc- 
 cumb. ... If we can help someone, then it is we 
 who help who should be most thankful. The joy 
 of giving is greater than that of receiving. There- 
 fore the one who gives should be thankful to the 
 one who receives. That is all I wanted to say." 
 
 Don Miguel had taken a dish from the side- 
 board and was going around among the men who 
 were all anxious to contribute. 
 
 This annoyed Fru Liss. It would certainly 
 spoil their bazaar. 
 
 As he came back Adele Harder glanced at Don 
 Miguel in a surprised way, half apologetically, as 
 if conscious of having done him an injustice. This 
 gave him a chance to look into her eyes. They 
 were eyes that at some time had wept long, and 
 their color was not so deep as it once was. Yet in 
 a moment of weakness they seemed to him more 
 beautiful than Fru Arescho's. 
 
 When she was gone they began to discuss her 
 remarkable doctrines. Also they were somewhat 
 annoyed as they realized that it was necessary for 
 them to do something. The Adjunct's cheeks 
 were even redder than usual. He felt hurt. In 
 his own mind he was quite convinced that he was
 
 SANPRIEL 133 
 
 immeasurably superior to the ordinary person. 
 Yet at times he felt a slight misgiving that every- 
 one did not realize this. As now, for instance, 
 when this lady had looked at him. 
 
 So he began to express his views. But it oc- 
 curred to him that he might talk himself out of 
 breath, and yet neither he nor the ladies would 
 know how he had happened to discuss evidences 
 of analogy; so he closed his remarks with the 
 amiable concession that spiritually strong women 
 might rise above their sex. 
 
 Was it not a well-known author who had said 
 this? He turned toward Student Adelsson who 
 stood near one ought indeed to show him a lit- 
 tle consideration. 
 
 The young man passed his hand through his 
 hair. He did not know, but he thought that was 
 a set phrase which ought to be discredited, for it 
 was fundamentally false. It was always in his 
 own nature that one attained his best, and one 
 ought to be prepared to overcome all limitations. 
 
 It was a satisfaction to contradict the Adjunct. 
 
 People began to rise. They felt the need of 
 moving about. 
 
 Fru Liss turned eagerly toward Don Miguel. 
 ' Well, I must say! Madame Harder is really 
 just too ... don't you think so?" 
 
 "Sure!"
 
 i 34 SANPRIEL 
 
 For the first time Don Miguel looked at Fru 
 Liss with admiration somewhat mixed. 
 
 Thora Thammers rose and walked past them. 
 
 " And Fru Thammers," he said, smiling, " is 
 she not also entirely too ? " 
 
 Fru Liss looked after her. 
 
 " For such an elderly woman she is amazingly 
 slender," she said, and grew suddenly thoughtful. 
 
 She was a particular admirer of just such slen- 
 derness, and with a sigh she glanced down at her 
 own plump little figure. She had decided that she 
 did not want to become stout. She must take her- 
 self in hand. Gymnastics ! But heavens ! What 
 an immense amount of energy that required ! 
 
 Nearly everyone had gone out and was walking 
 about on the lawn. 
 
 What a wonderful day it had suddenly become, 
 with its brilliant sunshine and radiant colors ! 
 Yet these people went around finding fault with 
 it to one another, while they discussed the bazaar. 
 
 Also they found fault with the Adjunct. 
 
 " Ladies," he said amiably, " what is the cause? 
 Indeed, it is nothing more than the result of na- 
 ture's laws. If ladies had the necessary scientific 
 knowledge they could easily calculate this. Is it 
 not so, Herr Professor?" 
 
 Professor Maurus, with hands behind his back 
 and stomach protruding, passed just at that mo- 
 ment. He smiled condescendingly, but kept si-
 
 SANPRIEL 135 
 
 lence. For such things shoujd not be mentioned 
 even in jest when it concerned the ladies. 
 
 Their spirits rose. The bazaar got under head- 
 way. 
 
 Right under Fru Thammers' window some little 
 children were playing: 
 
 Thief, oh, thief are you I say, 
 
 For you stole my love away! 
 
 But I have the hope in mind, 
 
 Soon another one to find, 
 
 So I think, tralalala, so I think, tralalala! 
 
 She sat there absent-mindedly listening to them. 
 
 A little farther away they were weaving the 
 vadmel. 1 
 
 They had kept on with their weaving the whole 
 forenoon in spite of the rain, and now they had 
 begun again with unabated zeal: 
 
 Thus weave we the vadmel, thus move we together, 
 
 Let the shuttle go forward. 
 
 So move we together, and thus weave the vadmel, 
 
 And all move together, 
 
 As the shuttle goes forward. 
 
 They sang to a mournful little tune, over and 
 over again. 
 
 She sat there watching them until she felt as 
 though she were slipping in with the endless warp 
 and woof into eternity itself, silent and gray. 
 
 1 A coarse woolen cloth.
 
 136 SANPRIEL 
 
 But from the parlor came the notes of the 
 Rakoczy march, somber, yet sparkingly brilliant, 
 alluringly wild. 
 
 It was the Norlander.
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 FAR above all this noise and confusion lies 
 Flyen, like a miracle in the glow of the fresh 
 young summer. 
 
 It is wrapped in splendor from peak to glacier. 
 Deep and fragrant, the forest winds like a garland 
 around its base. 
 
 A triumphant joy streams upward from the 
 earth. The sources of life have opened. Mys- 
 terious forces have awakened. Up from the 
 depths of the earth they come, straight from 
 Heaven's store-house. 
 
 The river announces their coming, there where 
 it lifts its mighty voice as it hastens by. The 
 brooks chatter about it. The lake also knows it 
 as it lies there with its happy billows shining and 
 dancing in the sunlight. 
 
 And the forest, full of power, and courage, and 
 majesty, with its fresh, swelling buds and rose-red 
 blossoms, knows it. It understands. 
 
 But it is not easy to learn how such bliss comes 
 about. 
 
 Ask the sun as he comes and dispels all the 
 dreams that were woven in the darkness of win- 
 ter. Ask him if he knows why it is that the 
 
 137
 
 i 3 8 SANPRIEL 
 
 cuckoo cannot keep from singing, and why it is 
 so cosy and sweet in the dark green depths, that 
 the wild wood-dove can never settle down. 
 
 Ask him, for he gets about everywhere. Out 
 on the waves he is writing in gold. Ask him what 
 it is. He has filled the entire space under the 
 heavens. The lark soars aloft in the dazzling 
 blue. His song melts away into the rays of the 
 sun. No one knows how it happens. It is one 
 of summer's secrets. 
 
 Flyen rises, stretching up toward the blue. 
 Everything is new and clear-cut, soft and silky- 
 fine. 
 
 Perfume is wafted from the dwarf birch, from 
 the juniper and the heather. And now that all 
 the birds have come, and all the creeping things 
 have ventured forth, there is great press of busi- 
 ness. 
 
 The air is full of slender young swallows who 
 must learn to take care of themselves. And down 
 below are the young rabbits hopping about, staring 
 with their big innocent eyes; they have never seen 
 this before. 
 
 There is a rustle among the hillocks. There is 
 a whisper, a soft, happy buzz. 
 
 And the white butterflies, white and blue they 
 rise and fall, then rise again. They do not know 
 what they want. They cannot bear to settle down 
 anywhere, the air is so soft and fine.
 
 SANPRIEL 139 
 
 And the flowers, the modest little flowers that 
 belong to Flyen, they are almost all here. Some 
 of them are already scattering their fragrance 
 about, so wild and sweet. 
 
 But the bluebells flock together. They laugh 
 and shake their bells in mild but unrestrained joy: 
 " We are holding high carnival here, we are hav- 
 ing a festival." 
 
 The others hear and come, all the others. 
 There are the yellow St. John's-wort and St. Olaf's 
 honey-white chalice. There are the daisy and 
 the rock-rose, and over there is the orchid which 
 here and there has made itself at home in the 
 rich soil among the hillocks. It looks so strange 
 in the midst of all the others. In its heart there 
 is a memory a vague recollection of past ex- 
 periences which it recounts now in its own be- 
 wildering speech. 
 
 And hare's-foot and cat's-paw trip about with 
 light tread. No one can hear their step. Rose- 
 red and white they dance about. All Flyen be- 
 longs to them 
 
 But listen, all of you together. There comes 
 a long-drawn breath. The flowers bow their 
 heads, while the leaves tremble. 
 
 The winds have come from both far and near. 
 
 This is the little wind that chases the silver- 
 blue shadows over the mountain. He brings a 
 message from the silken grass and from the bright
 
 1 40 SANPRIEL 
 
 marigolds. He steals about thanking them all 
 for the good times they have given him. 
 
 Then comes a wind from the long ridges where 
 the star-flowers shine. He brings a message and 
 greeting from the wild rose. 
 
 And now comes the great wind from far away, 
 where the ocean heaves and tumbles and 
 farther still, from the broad plains and vast for- 
 ests beyond the sea. He always comes to Flyen. 
 He settles down and rests upon the heather. 
 
 But somewhere among the hillocks there stands 
 a flower which one wonders about a strange 
 flower that never has been here before. Yet the 
 great wind who has traveled so far and has seen 
 so much, he knows where the flower belongs 
 where its home is. 
 
 " I know you. How did you get here? You 
 belong down under the great sun. Down there 
 you were clothed in burning purple. We can't 
 produce that color here. But how are you? It 
 seems to me you look rather pale." 
 
 The strange flower shakes its magnificent crown, 
 and the most delicate perfume streams forth. It 
 is well content. There is a golden inscription on 
 its leaves. The burning purple the dream 
 about the great sun have been transformed into 
 a soul. 
 
 But the heather bloom and the daisy and the
 
 SANPRIEL 141 
 
 star-flower, all drink themselves drunk on the 
 strange perfume. 
 
 The wind passes on. 
 
 The river hastens after. It carries a message 
 to the sea from the eternal glacier. 
 
 The earth undulates, the atmosphere quivers. 
 The light changes, trembles weaves a cloak 
 from the dim blue haze, plaits a crown of the shin- 
 ing sunbeams. 
 
 A tumult of soft sounds arises, from all the 
 wild creatures, the flowers and the leaves. A 
 golden flood of light streams upward and all is 
 blended into one. Flyen is enveloped in song.
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 THIS time Thora Thammers had been so for- 
 tunate as to get a room with a view toward 
 Flyen. This she had always to herself. 
 
 Likewise she had a little veranda almost en- 
 tirely to herself. Of the other two rooms which 
 opened upon it, in one was a bed-ridden lady, and 
 in the other the young student Adelsson, of whom 
 it was said that he was substituting for Omar 
 Pasha. She saw little of him. 
 
 Strange, how time passed! She had already 
 been here a week. This time she bad come alone 
 and practically against her will. 
 
 Arvid had gone with a friend for a four-week 
 sailing trip, and Gertrude and Birger had gone in 
 different directions. So all had thought that she 
 had better come up here. Anyway it made no 
 difference to her where she was. 
 
 It had been a relief not to find Merchant Stern 
 there, although it was all the same anyway. 
 
 The ladies had again begun by paying her at- 
 tention. The Dean's wife had a fresh supply of 
 good advice which surely must help. Then she 
 herself, she thought, had grown more sensible 
 for instance, she was much older than the year 
 
 142
 
 SANPRIEL 143 
 
 before, so old that surely there could be only a 
 few more pages to turn in her book of life. 
 
 That also was a relief. 
 
 She sat one afternoon on her veranda. Fru 
 Thamar Gyllenskjold passed, spoke, then stopped 
 to talk. 
 
 Yes, she was indeed disconsolate to-day, for 
 her husband had just gone. 
 
 Thora Thammers thought it incumbent upon 
 her to say some comforting words, but she felt 
 that she was very awkward about it. Fru Gyl- 
 lenskjold must think her a perfect simpleton. 
 
 Fru Gyllenskjold smiled indulgently as she 
 looked at her in a friendly way. 
 
 " I really believe that you are improving. 
 
 I always say that one must be sensible and not 
 dwell too much on one subject, nor grieve too long 
 over anything. That is injurious to one's health." 
 
 Thora Thammers thanked her smilingly for 
 the good advice, for of course it was meant for 
 her. Fru Thamar Gyllenskjold was certainly not 
 a simpleton. 
 
 She sat there watching her as she wandered 
 down across the meadow. 
 
 It was such a pleasure to watch her. 
 
 Just then Student Adelsson came out. 
 
 He had stood in the doorway peeping out, and 
 was anxious to see more. He asked permission 
 to take his place beside her. He was burning
 
 i 4 4 SANPRIEL 
 
 with a desire to go down across the meadow, but 
 did not dare to do so. Of late Fru Thammers 
 had conversed with him occasionally. 
 
 She was amused by his frank dismay over con- 
 ditions in this world, by his passion for Fru Gyl- 
 lenskjold, and by his efforts to inspire respect for 
 his young manhood. In all sincerity he tried to 
 falsify his good nature. He scowled frequently, 
 and altogether managed to look so hardened that 
 once Fru Thammers, in her quiet, jesting way, 
 asked him to smile, and expressed the opinion that 
 some of the gentler qualities, in fact many of 
 them, also belonged to manliness. 
 
 For an instant he had looked at her coldly 
 then came a smile. 
 
 Now she could say what she pleased to him. 
 He liked her all the better for it. 
 
 Frequently he came and asked if he might bring 
 her some books, or if there was anything else she 
 wanted. Occasionally he brought her flowers. 
 He thought she looked so pale as she sat there 
 alone on her veranda. 
 
 Suddenly he turned toward her. 
 
 Would she permit him to ask a question ? Why 
 was it that she spent so little time with the rest of 
 the people? For there were really so many nice 
 people there, as Froken Hennerud had said 
 men and women of intellect; and here just the 
 other day came the Danish baroness, and the Ger-
 
 SANPRIEL 145 
 
 man general and baron who had married a Nor- 
 wegian lady, and who presented himself at the 
 dinner table in such great style could it be a 
 reminiscence of court life perhaps in the royal 
 antechamber? Was it not strange that so many 
 of these elegant people seemed to think they could 
 get along with so little manners? He thought at 
 times that they had a very polite way of being 
 rude and such arrogance, just exactly like their 
 servants. . . . 
 
 Would she not tell him? And also, why it was 
 that she mingled with them so seldom? 
 
 Fru Thammers had a way of sitting and listen- 
 ing while others talked, without answering. Now 
 she smiled at him. 
 
 " Indeed, I will. ... It is often the case that 
 polish is merely a,n enamel which can be cracked, 
 and not the real thing at all." 
 
 ' Yes, that is true. I can certainly hear it 
 when it cracks." 
 
 In his eagerness he moved his chair up closer. 
 
 " I can say this to you without your making fun 
 of me. I don't like to be with people who are 
 not refined and even those who are refined are 
 seldom enough so. It gives me heart-burn if I 
 am with them long. Do you know, I sometimes 
 have the feeling that I am right in the midst of 
 a rabble ... an elegant rabble. Yes, you may 
 laugh for what am I?"
 
 i 4 6 SANPRIEL 
 
 " I do have to smile. But you certainly are a 
 man of perception." 
 
 "Do you think so? But I have entirely for- 
 gotten to tell you about the two baronesses, along 
 with Fru Iversen. At first they treated me with 
 very marked deference because they thought I was 
 the heir to a large estate. Now, from certain in- 
 formation they have received, they think I am 
 merely the son of a country tradesman and have 
 consequently lost all respect for me. I think I'll 
 tell them that King Karl Johan once bought snuff 
 of my father." 
 
 " Why not Louis XIV, that would sound still 
 better." 
 
 He grew enthusiastic. 
 
 " Do you think that would go? " 
 
 She laughed and shook her head then took 
 her book and rose. Her happy mood seemed to 
 slip away from her. 
 
 He detained her. 
 
 " But you haven't told me why you spend so 
 much time up here alone. It makes you so pale." 
 
 She looked at him gently. " There comes Fru 
 Gyllenskjold. Go down and open the gate for 
 her. That is what you have been waiting for, 
 isn't it?" 
 
 In the garden a little later, as she was starting 
 out on her afternoon pilgrimage, she met Mer- 
 chant Stern with one of his hounds.
 
 SANPRIEL 147 
 
 He greeted her in a friendly way as he might 
 have spoken to Fru Iversen, or as if he had com- 
 pletely forgotten her until he had accidentally met 
 her again. It seemed as if Donna remembered 
 her better. 
 
 She wondered over it somewhat, then went back 
 into the house. 
 
 She did not go up on Flyen. The next day she 
 stayed in and wrote letters to Arvid, to her 
 children, to her own family, and to Arvid's sister 
 and old aunt, to whom she had never before 
 thought of writing. 
 
 Froken Hemb came up to borrow a book. She 
 was so disgusted. For Fru von Asten had quar- 
 reled with her husband, and had carried on so 
 dreadfully that the maid had not dared to go in 
 with the breakfast. 
 
 Fru Thammers merely answered with an in- 
 credulous smile. 
 
 But she knew that it must be true when she 
 came down and saw Fru von Asten sitting there 
 embroidering with the most resigned air, and so- 
 licitously inquiring after Fru Iversen's little chil- 
 dren. It was generally acknowledged that she 
 was never so industrious in her work, or so amia- 
 ble in her manner toward others, as she was just 
 after an outbreak. And her husband received 
 the benefit of it all. 
 
 " Samuel, I don't know that you understand
 
 i 4 8 SANPRIEL 
 
 me, but I don't think it is a good thing for you 
 to live down there in those old rooms alone with 
 just the dogs. I am sure Froken Hennerud could 
 manage it so that you could have the big corner 
 room next to mine. No, I don't think it is good 
 for you. You will only get rheumatism down 
 there, and it would be so much pleasanter . . ." 
 
 " It is very good of you, Annie. You always 
 think of everything although I have no rheu- 
 matism. Of course it would be pleasanter and 
 more lively. Yes, we'll think about it." 
 
 He smiled and went out. 
 
 It was to be foreseen that Merchant Stern 
 would take to the young Student Adelsson. 
 
 And so he did. It looked almost as though 
 he had withdrawn in his favor. He saw to it that 
 Adelsson had a chance to talk, and protected him 
 so that it was impossible for the Adjunct to pun- 
 ish him, even when he deserved it; or for Pro- 
 fessor Maurus to give full expression to his con- 
 tempt. 
 
 In return he was blindly worshiped by Student 
 Adelsson. 
 
 One day he told the young ladies that he con- 
 sidered him head and shoulders above the other 
 people. This made them angry. They thought 
 it was a slight directed at them, and they com- 
 plained to Fru Gyllenskjold.
 
 SANPRIEL 149 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " C'est son tigre de Nubie il n'est pas 
 mort " ; and Student Adelsson had received his 
 name. 
 
 Now that Omar Pasha had come things grew 
 more lively. Fru Gyllenskjold as well as the rest 
 of the ladies became much gayer. There were 
 some who thought that he was even more fas- 
 cinating than the year previous. He was no 
 longer so impossible he left that to his young 
 friend. 
 
 Then there was something peculiar about his 
 gayety a mysterious warmth. They knew it 
 was Fru Gyllenskjold. They were greatly ex- 
 cited and began to feel sorry for the Director 
 who had looked so satisfied and secure. 
 
 Merchant Stern had been there several days 
 and was quite at home again. He amused him- 
 self with the young girls, went walking with Fru 
 Gyllenskjold, and accepted good advice from the 
 Dean's wife. 
 
 Thora Thammers met him frequently in the 
 morning at the breakfast table, or on the veranda 
 at afternoon coffee. 
 
 There was not the least indication that there 
 had ever been an exchange of passionate words 
 between them. His voice was gay and light, as 
 though he thought of nothing beyond what he 
 was saying, and then only of one thing at a time ;
 
 i 5 o SANPRIEL 
 
 while hers she herself could feel how heavy 
 it was with the shadows of the past. 
 
 Of course this was merely because she was mor- 
 bid. 
 
 Without giving herself any reason for it she did 
 not go up on Flyen during this time. 
 
 Then she asked herself what she meant by it. 
 Such precaution was entirely unnecessary. Were 
 they not through with one another anyway? 
 And would not life soon be at an end for them 
 both? 
 
 What did she want? To read his 
 
 thoughts? To measure the depths of his soul? 
 Was he not just what he ought to be? Did she 
 want to begin it all over again? Or did she want 
 to avenge herself on him? No, she did not 
 but nevertheless, the last word had not been said. 
 There was a smart back of it all, where the fire 
 of remorse was burning. 
 
 She almost laughed one day when she heard 
 him explaining to Froken Hemb that one had no 
 right to be melancholy. For one thing it was an 
 unbecoming criticism of the Creator, and for an- 
 other it merely wore one's nerves out. 
 
 Fru Iversen came up. She agreed with him 
 entirely. She never took anything to heart ex- 
 cept when it was fairly convenient. She called 
 it having presence of mind. 
 
 Fru Thammers arose and went out.
 
 SANPRIEL 151 
 
 How fortunate for Samuel Stern that he had 
 Fru Iversen! How they must enjoy one an- 
 other ! 
 
 Later in the day it grew hot. They sat out- 
 side on the lawn and drank their afternoon coffee. 
 The ladies sat around the big table while the 
 gentlemen walked about. 
 
 They talked about religious matters and about 
 dress, and about a minister who had the faculty 
 of expounding so that even quite ordinary people 
 could comprehend the deepest questions of the 
 soul. 
 
 Fru Iversen confessed that she had honestly 
 tried to fix her gaze upon the unseen, but that it 
 was difficult. This human life is, as everyone 
 acknowledges, a most remarkable enigma. As 
 for Fru von Asten, the charming thing about her 
 was, that she was always so easily satisfied about 
 everything that could not be seen. 
 
 Fru Liss sat there decked out in every way to 
 deceive the eyes of the men who looked upon 
 her. 
 
 The General stood near. He could not keep 
 away from her. 
 
 She sat there playing with a meek little kitten, 
 with black paws and pink ears. 
 
 " No, Tullemand, you are entirely too charm- 
 ing. How can you say such things, Froken 
 Hemb, that you believe in man's natural deprav-
 
 i 5 2 SANPRIEL 
 
 ity! People are really good, I think, at any rate 
 in cultured families." 
 
 She looked so pious and so charming as she 
 said this, with the soft shadows of her long eye- 
 lashes falling on her cheeks. 
 
 The General was impressed. 
 
 " Good books? " She turned toward Fru 
 
 Sahm who thought it was very difficult to know 
 what one ought to read. " Heavens ! That is 
 not difficult. If the papers don't speak well of 
 a book I don't touch it." 
 
 Then she turned again toward the General and 
 assured him that she had no idea of north and 
 south. She had no sense of direction. 
 
 The General thought that divine. 
 . Yes, but Student Adelsson was scandalized, and 
 said that was something that the smallest insect 
 had. He thought she hadn't even the intellect 
 of an insect. 
 
 Student Adelsson just at that moment was hold- 
 ing forth on politics to a group of young people. 
 They heard his loudly expressed hope that France 
 would have enough sense not to start in with the 
 Bourbons again. 
 
 The General cast a threatening glance at him, 
 not because of the Bourbons, but because his whole 
 manner was so irritatingly disrespectful. And he 
 assured Fru Arescho that in Germany such people 
 would not be allowed to go around loose.
 
 SANPRIEL 153 
 
 A little farther away Professor Maurus and 
 the Adjunct were entertaining one another dis- 
 cussing social questions. 
 
 Many of the gentlemen had joined the com- 
 pany, and finally Merchant Stern came. In his 
 usual manner he began to contradict, then seemed 
 slightly annoyed, a.nd finally ended by becoming 
 quite jolly. 
 
 Neither the Professor nor the Adjunct enjoyed 
 this. The Professor could not bear to be drawn 
 into Merchant Stern's fun-making. He found it 
 agreeable only when it was directed toward others. 
 The Adjunct's smile became weak and uncertain. 
 He glanced helplessly about as if looking for as- 
 sistance. 
 
 In front of them lay Wolf, yawning, yet listen- 
 ing attentively to it all. 
 
 Coming from one of the out-buildings was heard 
 Donna's howl. 
 
 Froken Hemb had gone to give her some bread, 
 but when she found the door locked so that she 
 could not get in, in an access of misplaced kind- 
 ness she had filled the key-hole. And Donna, 
 who had recognized the odor of the fresh coffee 
 cake, had lost all self-control. 
 
 Thora Thammers rose, went over and took the 
 bread out, then stood talking with Froken Hemb. 
 
 Now Fru Gyllenskjold rose. 
 
 She had sat there on her own bench resting.
 
 1 5 4 SANPRIEL 
 
 She went into the house and then came out again. 
 She glanced casually at the gentlemen who were 
 so busily talking. 
 
 Merchant Stern came over to her. 
 
 " And they strove against the Philistines and 
 David became tired. Now you shall rest. It 
 pleases me most graciously to command you to 
 take a little walk. Have I not told you to let 
 the Adjunct alone? You are getting into the 
 habit of committing too many crimes." 
 
 He laughed. " But if the crimes have become 
 habits they can no longer be recognized as crimes. 
 It has pleased your eyes to be mistaken, Madame. 
 For that matter you surely heard how gay we 
 were. We were cultivating human joy, even the 
 Professor in his faint-hearted, superior way. . . . 
 And that is what one ought to do. One should 
 never scorn light joys." 
 
 They started down toward the meadow. Mer- 
 chant Stern turned and whistled. 
 
 Wolf got up, stretched himself, walked over to 
 Fru Thammers and wagged his tail. It was a 
 friendly invitation to go along with them, but it 
 was not accepted. 
 
 Fru Thammers stood for a moment talking 
 with Froken Hemb and watching them. She had 
 heard all that was said and she felt a certain pang. 
 
 Jealous of Fru Gyllenskjold and the young 
 girls? She was forced to laugh at herself.
 
 SANPRIEL 155 
 
 She went up to her room, took up a hand mir- 
 ror and gazed at herself. There was need for 
 it. Yes, there were many tiny wrinkles. And 
 her eyes how long since they had taken on that 
 strangely distressed expression? 
 
 There came to her mind one night ... it was 
 soon after Birger was born . . . Arvid had 
 awakened as she lay there sobbing. Was it after 
 that night? That was a long time ago. What 
 had he said to her, he, who worshiped human joy 
 who never allowed any of the light joys to 
 pass him by? 
 
 He had once begged her for an answer. Now 
 he had completely forgotten it. He was a sensi- 
 ble man 
 
 She still stood with the mirror in her hand, 
 looking at the sharp lines about the mouth which 
 seemed to grow deeper as she gazed. 
 
 She began taking walks again and she spent 
 more time with the others down below. Occa- 
 sionally she would take a stroll with Student 
 Adelsson. 
 
 They thought she was becoming more lively 
 and was looking better. The Dean's wife thought 
 it was the hot water. 
 
 She no longer took any pains to avoid Samuel 
 Stern. Whenever they met they talked together 
 carelessly and gayly, about anything.
 
 156 SANPRIEL 
 
 At table she had taken a seat beside Fru Iver- 
 sen. Near them was Merchant Stern, which Fru 
 Iversen considered great good luck. 
 
 So they talked about the food, about the dogs, 
 about the wind, and about the weather. Fru 
 Iversen had never known before that it was so 
 pleasant to talk about wind and weather.
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 IT was evening. She stood at her window look- 
 ing out. 
 
 The moon came up blood-red over Flyen. She 
 stood there watching the long, sinking shadows. 
 There came over her a longing for the flowers 
 and all the rest up there. She had not been up 
 there for a week. 
 
 She went down and found the garden empty. 
 In the big hall they had begun dancing. 
 
 But when she came up there all was so won- 
 derfully still. Apparently not a living thing was 
 near. They had all gone to rest. 
 
 Involuntarily she walked softly, for along the 
 path she saw the flowers with bowed heads and 
 folded leaves. She moved as in a darkened land 
 where thousands of little homes were closed and 
 barred. 
 
 A strange mood took possession of her. 
 
 She sat down, resting her head against a stump, 
 and gazed out toward the white mountain, up 
 toward the heavens where the evening red was 
 dying away. 
 
 She thought some one was coming. 
 
 As she sat there listening she lost consciousness. 
 157
 
 i 5 8 SANPRIEL 
 
 Yes, it was Night. Upon her brow was 
 
 the glow of the eternal snows. The heavens low- 
 ered and she stepped down, while the earth was. 
 filled with her wonderful, glorious light. . . . 
 There it came from the mountain ridge, in long, 
 whispering billows 
 
 High above her head, far, far away, she heard 
 the sound of another world, a world she once had 
 longed for, but never had been able to attain. 
 The air was full of a strange splendor, a silent, 
 
 dreamy splendor and there, far away, was 
 
 the golden land of her childhood. She wanted 
 to ask the way thither. She would ask the great 
 mountains that looked out over the earth and up 
 into the heavens she would ask them the way 
 to the land which belonged to her. She would 
 climb the mighty steps of the heights and see 
 whither they led. . . . 
 
 Again some one came with silent step. It was 
 the great Hougfrue who ruled over Flyen. She 
 recognized her, for Sjur had told her about her. 
 In her hand she carried a green twig. It was a 
 magic wand, and everyone who looked upon it 
 came into her power. 
 
 A shiver passed through her as she came under 
 the spell. 
 
 The Hougfrue came straight toward her, and 
 as she stood directly in front of her Thora felt 
 impelled to bow low.
 
 SANPRIEL 159 
 
 " You see, I belong to you; you must help me," 
 she said softly. 
 
 "What do you wish?" 
 
 Her heart burned within her. 
 
 " I have a great longing." 
 
 The Hougfrue looked at her with eyes that 
 were dark and full of power. 
 
 " What is it you long for? " 
 
 She stretched her arms out toward her. 
 
 " For that which I cannot have for that 
 which belongs to eternity." 
 
 The Hougfrue touched her with her wand and 
 her eyes were mild. 
 
 " But you must arouse yourself and act other- 
 wise your wish will not be granted," she said, and 
 passed on. 
 
 She watched her as she moved across the moor, 
 gliding silently over the long billows of heather 
 bloom. Wherever her foot had trod lay colors 
 she never had seen before, and there where she 
 disappeared from sight the low hillock was en- 
 veloped in flame 
 
 Now some one else was talking to her, this time 
 a human being. 
 
 She had not .noticed when he came. She saw 
 that he sat by her side, but she was not surprised. 
 Nothing surprised her as she sat there, powerless 
 to free herself from the dreamy spell which had 
 been cast upon her.
 
 160 SANPRIEL 
 
 " What are you doing? " he asked, in a voice 
 so mild and full of warmth that it seemed to creep 
 right into her heart. 
 
 She knew it was Samuel Stern. She saw the 
 handsome mouth with the gentle expression which 
 had belonged to it long ago, in the days of his 
 youth. 
 
 She was not surprised to see him, nor was she 
 surprised by the fact that he sat there talking to 
 her. She continued to stare straight before her. 
 
 " What are you doing? " he asked again. 
 
 " I am listening to the winds," she said quietly. 
 
 He moved forward slightly. 
 
 "What do they say?" 
 
 " Ah, they come so heavily laden ! " 
 ' You are mistaken," he said. His voice grew 
 soft and trembled. 
 
 " No ! " she said, " there is the ocean wind that 
 knows everything. Then there is the little wind 
 from the valley which steals what has been sighed 
 forth to the wakeful night and bears it hither." 
 
 He bent toward her. 
 
 " I knew you would come here again," he said. 
 
 But somewhat to his surprise he saw that she 
 had not heard him at all. 
 
 " Then there is the Bergefrue . . . she 
 
 has been here." She said this as in a dream, and 
 nodded slowly as she spoke.
 
 SANPRIEL 161 
 
 "And she has touched you with her wand! 
 Yes, this is indeed her realm." 
 
 His voice sounded as though he were glad about 
 something. Her mood took hold of him. Sud- 
 denly it seemed to him that they were back again 
 in the days of their youth, when they roamed about 
 together and he was imprisoned by her fancies. 
 Here indeed was sacred ground where they could 
 meet . . . far removed from life. 
 
 " I see," he repeated and laughed. " The 
 Bergefrue's wand has come near you." 
 
 " But everything is changed here," he added. 
 " Everything is different." 
 
 She glanced up and shook her head. 
 
 " Yes, here people live what is in their thoughts 
 and in their dreams, that which forms an under- 
 current of song throughout the whole of life. 
 Here they have to be honest with one another." 
 
 She looked at him in silent wonderment, only 
 half hearing what he said. 
 
 " Do you see, down there all is closed and dark; 
 but here in the home of the fairies, all is opened up 
 for us. Here the air is warm, and there is shelter 
 from the nor'wester. Here we can wander about 
 again in the old paths. We can tell one another 
 a little of everything obtain a respite by telling 
 stories as she did, the death-doomed, for her Sul- 
 tan. 
 
 " What are you thinking about? Do you know
 
 162 SANPRIEL 
 
 anything that is good to think upon when the 
 nights are long? Why did you come here 
 again? " 
 
 A tremor passed over her face. Her eyes grew 
 big and tired. 
 
 " I wanted to find something," she said slowly. 
 " What was it? I do not know. No I do not 
 know whether I know I thought, perhaps, it 
 was here for it was nowhere else." 
 
 She gazed into space. 
 
 " Now I know! I wanted to rest." 
 
 " You shall tell me something else, about the 
 happiness you have found." 
 
 She shrank back timidly. An uneasy expres- 
 sion came over her face. 
 
 " Happiness? I do not know what that is. I 
 have forgotten what I thought it was." 
 
 She covered her face with her hands. 
 'What do you want? You disturb me," she 
 said softly. 
 
 ' That time you dreamed your sun-dream . . . 
 what was it like? " 
 
 She turned toward him and laughed. 
 
 " One must not dream it is too costly. It 
 takes away what one has and then all is gone." 
 
 '* What have you experienced of life's beauty? " 
 
 "Life's beauty?" she whispered. "Yes! 
 There was gloom before it came and horror 
 when it went. So I have forgotten that also."
 
 SANPRIEL 163 
 
 There was silence. 
 
 He watched her as she sat there seemingly hav- 
 ing forgotten that he was there. How could she 
 look so childish? How did it happen that she 
 held her head in such a way? He could think 
 of nothing but a flower. 
 
 " Tell me another story," he said gently. " Re- 
 member, it is not the same here as it is down be- 
 low. Here the door that leads out is closed, and 
 the one that opens into hidden thoughts and 
 dreams is opened. Bright, white-winged, they fly 
 about you, all those fancies that came to you when 
 it was spring. Here Time does not exist, there- 
 fore nothing can come to an end." 
 
 Again she grew restless. She rose, but sat 
 down again. The expression on his face seemed 
 to compel her to remain. 
 
 " You know," he continued, " if people are 
 touched by the green wand their eyes are opened. 
 They can see one another. Tell me, what do 
 you see ? " 
 
 She sat for a little while as if she were consid- 
 ering. 
 
 " Yes, I have to laugh, for there is one who is 
 so happy that he cannot see when tears and blood 
 are dripping. That is because he has never taken 
 anything to heart." 
 
 " You are telling it wrong."
 
 1 64 SANPRIEL 
 
 " No, that is correct. I am not a man, so I 
 cannot forget " 
 
 " But you have indeed forgotten the old song, 
 
 Then am I most joyous 
 When most I am oppressed ! 
 
 " You do not know that there is a man who has 
 fought far into the heat of the day countless num- 
 bers of times; who has said to himself, ' This that 
 I do to-day, this that I think, I shall never do 
 again this is indeed the last time.' Yet he has 
 done it over and over again. The last time never 
 comes. That makes him heavy at heart. . . . 
 Now you must tell me something you know. 
 Where have you been all this long time? " 
 
 "I? I have gone about searching . . . There 
 was something I had lost. I could not find peace. 
 At night ... I could not lie in my bed. I would 
 
 go out where it was dark ' There must be 
 
 some one who can help me,' I thought; but no one 
 could. ' Let me go,' I begged ' I pray you, let 
 me go ! I want to go in there where all is de- 
 serted ... I want to go in to the withered leaves, 
 to all that which once was green, but is so no 
 longer ' 
 
 ' Then I came out into the great desert, and 
 Night came to me. She closed her heavy eyes 
 . . . and I prayed that no one might disturb me 
 Then some one said : ' Why are you
 
 SANPRIEL 165 
 
 grieving? Because some leaves have withered, a 
 song has died away, and lights have burned out? 
 
 Such indeed is life ! ' But I went on. I had 
 
 no peace. Then one came in the gloom and said 
 to me: 'What are you looking for? It would 
 be better for you to go with me, then perhaps you 
 will find something to help you.' It was Sorrow 
 who took me by the hand and led me into her 
 realm so full of abysses, leading ever farther, far- 
 ther down 
 
 " And I went down . . . That is why I came 
 here last year . . . because I had been there. 
 ... I needed to rest." 
 
 He wanted to say something, but she stopped 
 him. 
 
 She pressed her hands to her brow. 
 
 " For I was so tired. I found nothing to help 
 me. My eyes could see nothing." She shook 
 her head. " And now I want nothing more." 
 
 She had spoken heavily, indistinctly, as if the 
 words had pressed forth against her will. 
 
 She rose. 
 
 " I must go," she whispered almost inaudibly. 
 
 " No ! ' He made her sit down again. 
 " Now it is I who must tell a story, one that is 
 true. 
 
 " It was one evening here on Flyen. A man 
 came up and paid his respects to all around, greet- 
 ing them and expressing his thanks for the pleas-
 
 1 66 SANPRIEL 
 
 ure they had given him. They returned his 
 greeting and told him that she was there. He 
 knew that she would come. The man wandered 
 about in the beautiful, lonesome night. He lis- 
 tened to the birds and to the flowers that were 
 sleeping. He thought they must all be dreaming 
 of her 
 
 " That man was one who had gone far astray. 
 He dared not stand in her presence, for fear she 
 would avenge herself. She might come upon him 
 when he was weak and tired and might terrify 
 him. 
 
 " He also had traveled the dark road. Many 
 are the paths that lead into the land of Sorrow. 
 He likewise had suffered. There was some one 
 he had lost. He had inquired along the way: 
 ' What has become of you.' But no one ever 
 answered." 
 
 She sat motionless, with bowed head and hands 
 folded on her knee. Then she rose slowly. 
 
 ' You must let me go. I can listen no longer. 
 It is all so strange, everything." 
 
 He also rose. 
 
 " I know another story that is more amusing. 
 I will tell it to-morrow evening. Remember that 
 you are to come again for the sake of my story, 
 and anyway you will have to come since you are 
 under the influence of the Hougfrue." 
 
 She did not answer. Neither of them spoke
 
 SANPRIEL 167 
 
 again. He followed her down to the door where 
 he bade her good-night. 
 
 When she had reached her room she remained 
 standing for a moment quietly. 
 
 Then she went over, and opening the window 
 looked out. 
 
 She must rouse herself. She must bring her- 
 self down to realities. 
 
 The fog had risen from the valley and wrapped 
 itself about the mountains, hiding Flyen. Soft 
 and white it crept in among the houses. Every- 
 thing big was hidden; but all the little things, the 
 houses, the gate, the trees, all these had increased 
 most wonderfully in size and seemed to grow right 
 out of the all-pervading white mist. 
 
 Everything real seemed to have been changed 
 into a something without a name, into a dream 
 which had taken possession of the innermost re- 
 cesses of her brain. She could not comprehend 
 it. 
 
 " Why do I need to trouble myself about it? " 
 she said finally, when at last she had lain down. 
 " He is indeed a strange being." 
 
 The next day Fru Thora Thammers had such 
 dark rings under her eyes that the Dean's wife 
 called her to account, in particular with regard 
 to the hot water. 
 
 The Dean's wife was somewhat like Fru von
 
 1 68 SANPRIEL 
 
 Astcn in the tyrannically officious way in which 
 she looked after those whom she liked best. 
 
 She was fortunate also in getting Fru Tham- 
 mers to see what was good for her, and also to 
 understand that it was her moral duty to stay at 
 the house that evening. After the bazaar they 
 were going to dance. 
 
 When evening came she was there. She sat 
 looking on. Dance music always made her mel- 
 ancholy, as also did watching the dancing. The 
 tears came to her eyes. This was ludicrous, of 
 course. 
 
 Samuel Stern was dancing with Fru Iversen 
 and seemed to be enjoying himself. Afterward 
 he came over to her. 
 
 "What are you pondering over? You ought 
 to be dancing. It would do you good." 
 
 She smiled faintly. 
 
 " It is lively here, but I do not see why it is so 
 necessary to laugh and make such a noise. They 
 are certainly not all so utterly happy." 
 
 She was not thinking of the others, but of him 
 as she spoke. 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " Oh, yes, that is true, but then we are under 
 no obligation to feel this joy for any length of 
 time. I would not even vouch for five minutes. 
 You shake your head rather scornfully it seems 
 to me. You think it is pretence. You are mis-
 
 SANPRIEL 169 
 
 taken, for we really are in good spirits. It is a 
 sort of decoration to one's life. It does not go 
 very far, but then one has no other expedient. 
 Human beings are indeed poor in one sense or the 
 other. So one must be sensible and get along 
 with what one has. See Student Adelsson who 
 has received permission to dance with Fru Gyl- 
 lenskjold. He is overjoyed. And among the 
 others who are going the rounds there are cer- 
 tainly some who are fully as happy as he, if not 
 more so. Heavens! How far one can go at 
 times! " 
 
 She laughed. That quiet, restrained voice with 
 its low, sweet tones, was well suited to laughter. 
 
 " Yes, you are right," she said. " That is quite 
 convincing." 
 
 " There, Don Miguel is playing his insufferable 
 waltz. You won't dance, I know. I have prom- 
 ised Fru Iversen to show her some pictures I 
 have at the cottage. Will you go with us?" 
 
 Fru Iversen came up just at that moment, and 
 together they went over to the cottage to see the 
 pictures. 
 
 One was a Madonna by Crivelli, a fragile, 
 slightly bent figure with pale, sorrowful face. 
 Yet there was a secret charm about her, a sweet- 
 ness in the glance half cast down. 
 
 "Goodness, she is certainly not handsome ! "
 
 1 70 SANPRIEL 
 
 broke out Fru Iversen. " Pardon me, but it 
 seems to me she looks like Fru Thammers ! " 
 
 " Yes, I think so, too. And here, this is St. 
 Francis. According to tradition he is on a visit 
 to a cloister where they cultivate thorns in order 
 to do penance with them. He changes them into 
 roses." 
 
 " I could love him for that. To be comfort- 
 able ought to be one's chief aim in life I think. 
 And Heaven knows it is a blessing that they can 
 find something to paint besides these everlasting 
 Madonnas. Pictures of men are always decora- 
 tive." 
 
 Merchant Stern went over to Fru Thammers 
 who still stood in front of the Madonna. 
 
 ' You look as though you were thinking that 
 you would not come. Remember, a spell has been 
 cast upon you." 
 
 " I would like to hear the story," she said 
 quietly. " It may amuse me. It is my chief aim 
 also, to have everything as pleasant as possible." 
 
 But the story was not told that evening. It 
 was not ready nor was it the next evening. 
 There was always some excuse for putting it off. 
 
 A fortnight passed. Thora Thammers had 
 not yet had an opportunity to say what she wanted
 
 SANPRIEL 171 
 
 to him, and then to tell him that now this chap- 
 ter must be closed. That was what she had in- 
 tended to say the next evening, but she had not 
 done so. 
 
 For that matter, why should she not? 
 
 Indeed, it amused her to watch him, as he was 
 down below in the daytime, and then up there in 
 the evening. Down below, how careful he was 
 that no one should suspect he had any feeling. 
 Everything was made light of, or turned into a 
 jest. 
 
 And now just when it looked as though they 
 might consider themselves as ordinarily good 
 friends his sudden, inexplicable change, his 
 holding back as if he had bethought himself, and 
 was careful on her account. It occurred to her 
 that he was afraid that she would take his words 
 too literally, and think that he might fall in love 
 with her again. 
 
 He certainly did not know how experienced she 
 had become, nor how much she knew of the world. 
 Nor did he know that she could not believe a sin- 
 gle word of his, not even in her innermost heart. 
 It was a pity he did not know how safe he was, 
 that he need take no precautions on her account. 
 
 But nevertheless, although she would not ac- 
 knowledge it even to herself, she suffered when 
 she saw him devoting himself to two young girls, 
 who were boldly making love to him. She could
 
 172 SANPRIEL 
 
 not express to herself how his light, irresponsible 
 manner irritated her. 
 
 But then up there she forgot it all again 
 . . . and all the time that had passed . . . and 
 everything that had happened. And it seemed 
 to her that there were only they two, and that 
 all was as it once was, and that she could sit there 
 forever and let life quietly burn itself out. 
 
 It must have been the fault of the evening; for, 
 as the sun sank and all grew solemn and still, 
 blood-red rays streamed across the slope, leaving 
 lurid stains on the heather. 
 
 It was the summer night which lured forth the 
 bright spirit of youth. Mystic characters were 
 spread out before them. The Bergefrue had 
 touched them with her wand. 
 
 As the days went by they seemed to live a sort 
 of enchanted life up there on the heights, side 
 by side with the everyday prose. Down below 
 by day he was Omar Pasha, taken up with a thou- 
 sand different things up there in the evening, 
 on the borders of the Promised Land, his coun- 
 tenance was changed. He resembled the one she 
 once had dreamed about. Ah, why had he not 
 at that time spoken these same deep words which 
 now so strangely moved her soul ! 
 
 How he could sit and talk about all the little 
 things on Flyen, and at the same time about those
 
 SANPRIEL 173 
 
 of the past with something in the background 
 which gave color to the whole ! 
 
 There were moments that came to her as some- 
 thing beautiful she once had experienced in a 
 dream. She felt sorry for everyone who was in 
 trouble and could not come up here to rest. 
 
 She wondered over her previous fear of him 
 and her caution. 
 
 Yet when he said, " Come up this evening at 
 sunset, I have something to tell you," she thought 
 each time that she would not go. But she could 
 not help herself. She was in the current of a 
 stream which was carrying her gently on. 
 
 Then there was so little to the day. She went 
 about so tired. It seemed to her that her senses 
 were not all awake. Up there it was better. She 
 forgot that was good for her. And besides, 
 it would soon all be over anyway. 
 
 A reckless feeling took possession of her. Life, 
 the reality of happiness, she had never known. 
 Therefore she could not grudge herself these 
 ghostly fancies which faded away when the sun 
 rose. That which was not, was nevertheless the 
 best thing she had. 
 
 They had a certain power to entertain one an- 
 other, that was all it amounted to. They were 
 two old people playing at fairy stories, some very 
 harmless fairy stories that had grown out of life's
 
 i 7 4 SANPRIEL 
 
 pain . . . pale little blossoms that took on color 
 only when touched by the last rays of the sun. 
 
 Oh yes, they were indeed subjects for mirth, 
 he as well as she. She was certain that in secret 
 he was amused over her, and she again for her 
 part, over him. 
 
 Anyway, that was what one was here for.
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 ONE day the entire party decided to make an 
 excursion to a dairy up in the forest, where 
 they were to eat cream porridge and look at an 
 old cheese press. 
 
 Fru Thammers had promised the Dean's wife 
 that she would go along, and afterward when 
 Merchant Stern asked her she told him also that 
 she would go. Then she repented. All at once 
 it seemed impossible for her to go. 
 
 They were just getting ready to start. Marit 
 Hennerud had gone up before, so as to be ready 
 to receive them. 
 
 Thora Thammers met Fru Iversen in the gar- 
 den. " Tell them that I have gone on ahead," 
 she said. 
 
 But down under the slope she turned aside, and 
 found a place where she could see the road without 
 herself being seen. From this point, with secret 
 pleasure she watched them all go off together. 
 
 Yes, it was all right. There were Samuel Stern 
 and Fru Thamar Gyllenskjold. It looked as 
 though he were in high spirits. He certainly 
 seemed very much at ease with Fru Gyllenskjold. 
 She was quite pleased over her little trick. He 
 
 175
 
 i 7 6 SANPRIEL 
 
 probably had not once noticed that she was not 
 there. 
 
 The thought, however, that she never again 
 could trust herself, came to her with a strange 
 pang. For those evenings up there . . . those 
 soap-bubbles which they had blown for one an- 
 other's amusement, which had amused her because 
 she had nothing else . . . perhaps he was even 
 now amusing himself as well as Fru Gyllenskjold 
 over the fact that she had been so taken up with 
 the affair. Her distrust of him became so strong 
 that it suddenly stripped the glamour off from 
 everything. 
 
 Now this also was ended! 
 
 She asked herself sarcastically: where indeed 
 did she find herself now? She certainly had 
 known there was nothing in the whole affair. 
 Why had life become interesting to her again? 
 Should she never be done with all this? 
 
 She rested her head on her hands. 
 
 Those evenings had been to her like a resurrec- 
 tion like a fountain of youth bubbling up from 
 the depths of the earth a golden dusk, filled 
 with the fancies of the heart, with words that had 
 been remembered, words that had been forgot- 
 ten. . . . Cautiously and shyly they had come, 
 borne on the wind which glided softly about 
 them. . . . And then had come mute words, 
 words that were not spoken, but were there.
 
 SANPRIEL 177 
 
 She clung to the thought that they were not 
 spoken ; but what difference did that make so long 
 as they were there? 
 
 She grew helpless at the thought of it. 
 
 Yes ! She was tired of herself. Such a heart 
 as hers ought to save itself every distress, every 
 burning sorrow for it was always the same, 
 always so painfully alive, always so greedy and 
 desirous of life. 
 
 What was this she had heard about the " peace 
 of old age "? Where was it? It was well for 
 her that she had determined that this should end. 
 
 She sat with her chin resting in her hand, smil- 
 ing quietly. 
 
 She could not get away from the thought of 
 those evenings up there. It seemed as if all the 
 silent spirits of Flyen had played on their heart- 
 strings, and amid all the discord had found their 
 way into the harmony of their souls. From all 
 this had arisen new, deep tones. A flower had 
 sprung up in the bright night. A rare blossom 
 a nameless bud had put forth amid those mag- 
 ical surroundings. 
 
 Ah, but she had to laugh ! By day everything 
 was closed and ended. They were merely two old 
 people going about with no concern for one an- 
 other.
 
 i 7 8 SANPRIEL 
 
 She rose and went on, up over the slope. 
 
 To-day she was sure of being alone. To-mor- 
 row perhaps she would meet them on Flyen, Fru 
 Gyllenskjold and Omar Pasha. 
 
 It began to rain. She sat down under a fir tree 
 and listened to the soft patter of the rain with a 
 feeling of pleasure. The warm odor of the rip- 
 ened grass was wafted toward her . . . and the 
 cool fragrance of berries. And the moor so 
 far as sight could reach it lay like a dark blue sea. 
 
 It grew lighter. The air was solemn and full 
 of music. She seemed to hear, coming from the 
 innermost depths below, a soft but mighty sound, 
 rising, falling, like the drawing of deep breath. 
 It must be the earth. 
 
 And from beyond came the deep voice of the 
 river ... to be sure it was always there, but 
 now it seemed to force itself upon her. . . . And 
 all around was something ceaselessly whispering. 
 
 The water rocked noiselessly below. It rose 
 and fell, rose and fell again. The heavy billows 
 seemed to throw themselves straight up, rolling 
 in everywhere. She must go, for certainly more 
 rain was coming. But she did not stir. She sat 
 there watching the waves as they slipped along, 
 heavily, noiselessly. It reminded her of a story 
 she once had heard when a child. 
 
 There was a sailor who was returning home 
 after having been away for a long time. He hur-
 
 SANPRIEL 179 
 
 ried on toward the country parish, the home of his 
 youth. He could not sleep at night for joy. He 
 thought of a little cabin where flowers grew about 
 the door . . . and of Mother within, and of 
 Dordi, his heart's dearest. 
 
 So on he went day and night, asking everyone 
 he met if they knew his home district. And if 
 any one did happen to know it, he would fairly 
 beam. How was it now in the land of his youth? 
 Did the sun shine in at his mother's window as 
 it used to ? Was the moss growing on the door- 
 step? And the little blossoms around, were they 
 as fresh and blue as ever? Did they come up 
 every year as they used to in the old days? And 
 the folks up there, were they just like they used 
 to be, brave and strong, with the same steadfast 
 mind, and with hearts that were big and warm, 
 like Dordi's and Mother's? 
 
 No one could answer all these questions. He 
 had to hurry on to see for himself. He had 
 walked for days and nights. His feet were 
 swollen, but he did not notice it. He could not 
 stop for joy. Before daylight he reached a little 
 cliff right above his mother's cabin 
 
 The sun came up but it did not shine on the 
 window panes. He could not see his mother's 
 cabin. 
 
 Then suddenly he grew very tired. He had to 
 sit down. And it was a long time before he was
 
 i8o SANPRIEL 
 
 sufficiently rested to go down below into the val- 
 ley. But when he got there he could not find his 
 mother's cabin. It was not there. There was 
 no moss on the steps and no flowers about. 
 
 An old man came and took him by the hand. 
 
 " I saw it was you. It is queer that you should 
 come back here." 
 
 " Where is my mother's house? " 
 
 " You can see for yourself. It is burned 
 down." 
 
 " Where is Mother? " 
 
 " Oh, she is resting! " He pointed in the dis- 
 tance where the church spire was shining. " She 
 is better off there under the old birch tree." 
 
 "And Dordi?" 
 
 " It was some time after you left that she went 
 off with a strange fellow. Do you see? " 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " And you say that to my face ! Thanks ! 
 That is queer but tell me, where is the moss 
 that grew on the doorstep? And where are the 
 flowers with the deep blue cups I must know 
 that first . . . those that came up every year 
 about the door? " 
 
 No one answered him. The old man had gone 
 on. 
 
 He had to sit down on a big stone beside the 
 doorway. He smoothed it all round with his 
 hands.
 
 SANPRIEL 181 
 
 " So you are still here. You know me again, 
 don't you?" 
 
 The sun went down while he sat there. And 
 when it came up again he sat there. 
 
 ' You must let me sit here. I am tired." 
 
 And evening came and he saw the sun set. 
 
 " Do you intend to start out again? I ought 
 to go also. I ought to go over to the old birch 
 tree and greet Mother, but I am not good for 
 anything." 
 
 She could remember what a fearful impression 
 the story had made on her. She had been put to 
 bed with a fever. The whole night she saw the 
 sailor sitting there on the stone. She had wept 
 and prayed that some one would take him in. 
 
 She began to think over all that human beings 
 must suffer. It seemed to her she could endure it 
 no longer. Without knowing it she began to 
 weep. 
 
 She thought everything around was complain- 
 ing. She heard all the voices clamoring together, 
 one indistinguishable from the other. 
 
 She must ask them about it: "Little flower, 
 why are you so sad? Why do you complain? I 
 see from your leaves that you are all of a tremble. 
 Why are you so cold and white? Is it the big 
 wind that travels through the heavens? Has he 
 told you of the sorrow that fills the universe, even 
 up to the highest clouds?
 
 1 82 SANPRIEL 
 
 " But it may not be so bad as you think. I will 
 ask the forest: Why do you stand there listening 
 so gloomily? " 
 
 Ah, she knows well enough. ... It hears the 
 groans down below, deep down whence it fetches 
 its strength. It is the earth which has drunk too 
 much blood. Man has no reverence for her, but 
 she will avenge herself. 
 
 She grew afraid. 
 
 " How strange it is on Flyen to-day! Is some 
 one dying? I want to get away from here. I 
 long for the sea." 
 
 And she felt that she must tell them. 
 
 " My friends, I know that I am ungracious. 
 
 But you must forgive me, for I have suffered. I 
 am in such great distress. I am surrounded by a 
 gloom which never seems to lighten 
 
 " But far out yonder is the sea. It has great, 
 heaving billows that will quench the burning fire 
 You must forgive me but I long for the sea." 
 
 She blushed as she said it. She blushed for 
 Flyen's sake. He lifted his voice and spoke re- 
 provingly : 
 
 " Did I not take you in my arms when 
 
 you came? Did I not watch over you while you 
 rested? My broad billows of living trees, my 
 ocean of blossom and leaf, did they not take you 
 to themselves? Have you not learned to inter-
 
 SANPRIEL 183 
 
 pret their words so full of meaning? And when 
 the Evening-red harnesses her steeds to her golden 
 chariot, and the doors of heaven open, do you not 
 catch a glimpse of the shining, eternal way? Of 
 what moment is the fate of an insignificant human 
 being that you should always have that in mind? " 
 " Forgive me, great Flyen. You silent forest 
 and all you little flowers hereabouts I belong 
 to you, I am listening. I will hide myself in the 
 
 heather I have forgotten the sea." 
 
 <, 
 
 Toward evening as the sun went down it cleared 
 off. 
 
 She still sat there thinking of many things. 
 
 She must go home to Arvid, who still belonged 
 to her. He was her husband. It was true he 
 was not at home. 
 
 Then she would go home to her two children; 
 for she had two children. They ought to know 
 that they had a mother. It was true they were 
 not there either. 
 
 Wolf came and licked her hand. She drew 
 herself together suddenly. 
 
 " Why are you here? I thought you were up 
 at the dairy." 
 
 She saw Samuel Stern coming in the distance. 
 As he came nearer a bitterness against the man 
 arose within her. It was with difficulty she kept 
 from shrieking aloud.
 
 1 84 SANPRIEL 
 
 Wolf surmised nothing. After two weeks of 
 peaceful intercourse he thought all was amicable. 
 So he sat quietly down as was his custom, with his 
 head on her knee. 
 
 But long before Samuel Stern reached them, he 
 saw that he was not welcome. With concern he 
 noticed the far-away expression and the wearied 
 air. For she had been sitting there the entire 
 afternoon. When he came up he took his cue 
 from Wolf and acted as though there were noth- 
 ing amiss. 
 
 " Yes, I stole away just as you did. You set 
 me a good example." 
 
 She said nothing. The flowers in her hand 
 dropped down over Wolf. 
 
 'Why are you sitting here in such dejection? 
 Is it your thoughts that weigh you down? " 
 
 She sighed and half turned her head. 
 
 " I never think." 
 
 ' There you are right. One can easily accus- 
 tom one's self to that. But why did you not go 
 with us? We had a very pleasant time. The 
 Professor talked about realities, the Adjunct about 
 the higher transcendental sight, and Fru Sahm, 
 one of the latest fruits of woman's admission to 
 higher education, discussed whether man should 
 be looked upon as a variety, or the beginning of a 
 species. . . . You ought to have been there." 
 
 She looked at him shrinkingly.
 
 SANPRIEL 185 
 
 " It seems to me you are rather frivolous." 
 
 " Dear me, that is a bad habit of mine. Do 
 you think I ought to break myself of it? " 
 
 An uneasiness came over her. She wished she 
 had gone before he came. 
 
 He sat there watching her restless movements. 
 He wanted to take one of her hands and hold it 
 still. " You seem uneasy. Where is your body- 
 guard the white butterflies, I mean? " 
 
 She did not answer. 
 
 He had come merely because he wanted to hear 
 her voice again to see if it would take on the 
 same expression that it had the last time, just as 
 she left. 
 
 As they had sat there during those evenings, 
 her voice had produced an overpowering effect 
 upon him. It had come to him through the dusk, 
 with its peculiarly closed sound, like something 
 mysterious from another world. She had given 
 it an expression that he did not recognize soft 
 and restful like the note of a silken string rising 
 from dreamy depths. It had set him all a quiver. 
 
 He moved a little nearer. 
 
 " Say something. Talk a little." 
 
 She bent down, plucked a flower, and murmured 
 something in a low voice. 
 
 He could not hear. He leaned forward. 
 
 "You are unhappy. What is it? Is it the 
 wind again? "
 
 1 86 SANPRIEL 
 
 He rose and sat down beside her. 
 
 " What is it? " he asked again. " Is it a differ- 
 ent arrangement of molecules that you want? Is 
 it not cold and damp here? Are you comfort- 
 able?" 
 
 She smiled dully. " I am wonderfully fortu- 
 nate. Everyone knows that." 
 
 " I am not coming here any more," she said 
 suddenly, in a harsh voice. " It is not at all amus- 
 ing." 
 
 " I pity Arvid! " she continued. 
 
 " Certainly Arvid is to be pitied. They are 
 always to be pitied, these poor men who have 
 wives they don't understand. Whose fault is it? " 
 
 She grew embarrassed and repented what she 
 had said. It was something entirely different she 
 had intended to say to him, but now she could not 
 remember a word of it. 
 
 He leaned toward her. 
 
 " The whole earth rests in peace. There is 
 mercy here also for the unrighteous. Let us take 
 things calmly. Is it not good to be up here? I 
 never waste a good opportunity it is never sure 
 of returning in fact it never comes again." 
 
 He looked at her with concern. 
 
 " I think one should fortify oneself against all 
 melancholy against the hour of great loss. 
 Otherwise one may enter into the land, against his
 
 SANPRIEL 187 
 
 will, whence it is difficult to find his way out 
 again. 
 
 " I once knew a man. He was not of the heroic 
 type. He was created for big things but was 
 forced to live in narrow surroundings. The little 
 town and his work tortured him. Then one sum- 
 mer-time he came up here. He had to get away 
 from people. Up here he was happy. He could 
 laugh and make merry. Here he could use the 
 big measuring stick, he said. So he went about 
 among the white summits always alone. One day, 
 just before he was to go back to school, he went 
 too far in and never came back again." 
 
 She turned toward him quickly and passionately. 
 
 " I pity human beings, both those who remain 
 where they are placed, and those who go too far 
 in ... those who do wrong and those who are 
 wronged! It is hard to live !" 
 
 " It certainly is not always so exquisitely de- 
 lightful. But there are people whose lives are 
 full of suffering and who nevertheless are happy. 
 That is because they know how to live " 
 
 Again he leaned forward and gazed at her with 
 eyes that had drawn far in beneath the heavy 
 brows. 
 
 u You asked me once how I had become what 
 
 I am I ask you, how did you become what 
 
 you are?
 
 i88 SANPRIEL 
 
 " I must tell you something. I have dis- 
 covered that there is a kind of woman yes, 
 there are certain women, who, if happiness comes 
 to them, do not have the courage to accept it. 
 They have, in fact, fancied it would be different. 
 There is a watchful something within which says 
 no, something coldly distrustful which doubts 
 everything. And happiness goes away per- 
 haps to return again and then disappear as be- 
 fore. But some time will be the last." 
 
 "Was that a story?" 
 
 " No, an experience from life." 
 
 She turned toward him with suppressed irrita- 
 tion, while a glimmer of scorn came into her eye. 
 
 " I know another kind of woman. I once knew 
 a young girl. There was one who said to her: 
 ' You are like a flower, the most delicate on earth 
 one that is not rooted to the spot like other 
 flowers, but is on its flight toward heaven.' 
 
 'The young girl laughed and said: 'Yes, I 
 am the white Iris. I stand and dream my white 
 dream, and when the sun goes down I shall lift 
 my wings and fly toward heaven.' 
 
 ' Then he said to her again: ' You are more 
 than the white Iris. You are my sacred flower, 
 you are the Lotus.' 
 
 ' I know it,' she said, and laughed. ' I am 
 fair and delicate. I am the Lotus.' 
 
 ' Then Time came marching by and wanted to
 
 SANPRIEL 189 
 
 take her with him. * But I don't believe that is 
 suitable for me,' she said. ' You know I am 
 young and slight, and I am waiting for my friend.' 
 * You must follow me,' said Time, ' wherever I 
 lead.' . . . 
 
 ' Then she laughed again and said: * That is 
 not my road. I have a friend and along our 
 path the wild roses grow.' 
 
 ' Then it was Time who laughed, for the friend 
 of her heart was not there. And Time took her 
 by the hand along the dark way. Stains appeared 
 on the white wings which did not bear her up." 
 
 She looked at him with a pitiful smile. 
 
 He sat with his face in his hands. Then he 
 looked up. Her face had grown strangely pale 
 and shining. 
 
 They sat there in silence for a time. 
 
 Again he looked at her. 
 
 " I also knew a young girl once. . . . 
 
 ' Her voice was sweet and low.' 
 
 " I shall call her Sanpriel. I do not know the 
 name, but as a schoolboy I read somewhere that 
 the most beautiful woman was called Sanpriel, 
 and I believed for a long time that it was true. 
 Do you understand?" 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 She just would not listen to him. 
 
 " She also had a friend. And there was an
 
 1 90 SANPRIEL 
 
 old parsonage garden where lime trees stood. 
 They went there one bright summer afternoon. 
 The long branches of the trees touched the ground, 
 but they could see the meadows through them. 
 
 " Sanpriel stood looking out with head bent, as 
 if listening. Her eyes looked as though she had 
 forgotten that he was there, he who was her 
 heart's friend. 
 
 " ' What do you see ? ' he asked. 
 
 " ' Only the white mist. It is hiding the flow- 
 ers from us.' 
 
 " ' That only makes their fragrance all the 
 sweeter.' 
 
 " They walked on. Her eyes grew big and 
 dark as though her soul lay dreaming within. 
 
 " ' Sanpriel, what is it? ' 
 
 " ' It is only the moon that is coming up out 
 of the forest.' 
 
 " Her friend walked by her side. He was so 
 full of longing he wished that he might hinder 
 the flight of time. He thought: ' She does not 
 love me enough.' He wanted to kneel at her 
 feet. He wanted to take her hands in his and 
 kiss them a thousand times. But there was some- 
 thing about her that held him back. He did not 
 dare. He only looked at her as she walked along 
 with head bent, as if listening. 
 
 ' Sanpriel, what do you hear? ' 
 
 ' It is the wind passing over the tender grass.
 
 SANPRIEL 191 
 
 And out there is the little bluebell ringing its Ave 
 Maria.' 
 
 ' Sanpriel, I am freezing right here in your 
 presence ! Let me feel the warmth of your sun 
 upon me ! ' 
 
 " But she did not answer. She walked along 
 as she listened. Then tears came into his eyes. 
 
 " ' Sanpriel, why do you ponder over so many 
 things? You do not love me. You are flying 
 on the wings of fancy far out into space. You 
 are never near me.' 
 
 " Then she turned toward him and whispered : 
 ' But it is you of whom I am thinking.' 
 
 " ' Yes, but you are not here with me.' 
 
 " ' But I am coming. Do you not see that I 
 am coming? ' 
 
 " * No, I do not see you are not coming, you 
 are going.' 
 
 " Then she turned toward him with a smile : 
 ' You must wait only be patient.' 
 
 " But the young man could not be patient. Na- 
 ture was surging within him. He was bewildered 
 by life, and came upon evil things while he waited. 
 Then it was that she should have come, but she 
 did not. She stood afar off." 
 
 Thora sat leaning against a stone as though 
 overcome by weariness. She had closed her eyes, 
 but through the lids she felt his burning gaze. 
 
 She certainly could endure no longer his sitting
 
 1 92 SANPRIEL 
 
 there staring at her. She must quiet her heart. 
 She would pay no further heed to anything he 
 might say. She would go. 
 
 She straightened up and glanced hastily at him. 
 There was an expression about his mouth that she 
 had known in the past, an expression of uncon- 
 trolled, passionate will. 
 
 She tried to rise and go, but she could not. His 
 gaze held her. 
 
 " I do not like such stories," she said weakly. 
 
 " No, that is an old story. Here is one that 
 is newer. 
 
 " It was many years after. Sanpriel had grown 
 pale. Her eyes were more silent than ever. Be- 
 hind them lay a soul, still dreaming. It had never 
 been awakened. 
 
 ' There was some one who had seen her 
 long, long before. When he saw her thus again 
 his heart trembled within him. He wished that 
 he might lay himself at her feet. But she did not 
 see him. She did not know him, for she had 
 never done more than converse with him at a dis- 
 tance. She did ,not notice that his heart trem- 
 bled within him. She had withdrawn into her own 
 chamber. 
 
 " So he went out across the meadows. The 
 flowers were having a gay time celebrating the 
 arrival of the white clover. 
 
 'Then he said to them: 'Steal in and lay
 
 SANPRIEL 193 
 
 your little hands on her sorrow. There where 
 the wound is deepest, creep in and cover it with 
 your rosy fingers.' 
 
 " For the white clover is the most cunning flower 
 on earth. So long as it blossoms sorrow is not 
 so dark. And they lured her out again into the 
 bright day. 
 
 " Then he said humbly : ' I sent them to you 
 with a message. What did they say to you? ' 
 
 "Then she laughed and said: 'I must have 
 dreamed once on a time that there was something 
 that had burned into my soul. Also I thought: 
 " The deepest of waters cannot cool me, nor can 
 any remedy be found for this grief of the soul." 
 But now they all tell me together that it is not 
 true. There is a remedy for everything.' 
 
 " Then he fell down before her. 
 
 " ' Do you not know me? It is not you, but I 
 who have passed through the great fire. Deep 
 waters cannot cool me, you alone can do that ' 
 
 " Now you may finish the story. Why, why 
 did you go away that time? Do you understand 
 now, how unjust you were, going without allowing 
 me to say a word? Do you understand how you 
 sinned when you went? 
 
 " Sanpriel, you tremble and are white. Tell 
 me that now you know that I loved you. You 
 stand there with the dream in your eyes. Awake ! 
 Speak to me!
 
 i 9 4 SANPRIEL 
 
 " I can see that you think I am not in my right 
 mind what difference does it make if I am 
 happy, if I can imagine for a moment that I am 
 happy." 
 
 She rose. The anguish within her seemed to 
 stiffen her like a frost. 
 
 " I must go. It is growing so dark, like win- 
 ter. Surely a storm must be coming." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " Do you not see how bright and pleasant and 
 quiet it is? Winter, you say? Do you not see 
 the sun and the flowers growing all around? " 
 
 He became lost in thought and sat staring at 
 her like one under a spell. 
 
 She breathed quickly and her voice came sharp 
 and hard. 
 
 " I think it is time for us to come back to reali- 
 ties." 
 
 He rose. His eyes grew deep and burning un- 
 der the heavy brows. 
 
 ' Yes, that which we both recognize, that which 
 forms the substance of our poor lives . . . which 
 cannot be seen by dull eyes, or perceived by cold 
 hearts . . . that powerful, eternal reality within 
 us, let it conquer for life and death, let us experi- 
 ence it in all its joy and terror " 
 
 There arose within her an intense and merciless 
 desire to speak the truth, the cold, hard truth, 
 which could hurt others as well as herself.
 
 SANPRIEL 195 
 
 11 It is laughable to see us sitting here," she 
 said. " Do you not see that I am old and gray- 
 haired? Do you not know that I have a husband 
 and children? And even if it were not laugh- 
 able, it is all to no purpose. We do not believe 
 in one another. We never have done so. And 
 
 other people do not believe in us Nor do 
 
 we deserve that anyone should believe in us 
 certainly not in me, for I am a wicked creature 
 and a pity it is for my husband and my children ! " 
 
 But his thoughts could not be turned. 
 
 " No," he said stubbornly. " There are 
 strength and sweetness in your eyes and in your 
 speech, even when you stand there saying those 
 ugly little words. You may indeed be old and 
 gray as you say, yet still you are Sanpriel. I no 
 longer love you as I once did. My feeling for 
 you is quite different its source is far deeper 
 blood has been transformed into a soul. It is 
 thus I love you. ... I did not want it this way, 
 but I could not help myself. Do you not believe 
 me?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ! I certainly ought to be very glad." 
 
 For if he wanted to jest, why not? 
 
 He came nearer. His voice grew mild. 
 
 " Sanpriel, do you know that one minute may 
 be worth a whole life-time? You are gazing so 
 intently what is it that you see? "
 
 196 SANPRIEL 
 
 She did not answer, but stood there with white 
 face and brows drawn as if in pain. 
 
 Suddenly the blood surged up, coloring her 
 cheeks, her face, her neck. 
 
 She did not herself know that she had started on 
 in front of him. 
 
 She began to speak, but her voice shook so that 
 she could not do so for a moment. Then it came 
 with great firmness. 
 
 "God knows I cannot go on with this! Nor 
 have I any right to do so ! I must go home to 
 my family ! " 
 
 " To all that which is not yours? " 
 
 " To all that which shall be mine. But first 
 ... all this time . . . the reason I have come 
 up here . . . it was perhaps because there was 
 something I wanted to say to you. ... I wanted 
 to tell you that the reason I left you that time was 
 because I did not want to be loved in that way 
 by the man whom I loved. ... I did not want 
 to wait and see it cast aside . . . see it wither and 
 fade away, that which I felt was eternal. That 
 you could forget me, if only for one little hour, 
 I could not endure. . . . 
 
 " Ah, it was you yourself who were the cause 
 of my going. It was your fault that I went where 
 I should not! For I have wandered along dark 
 
 ways It was you whom I loved ! You who 
 
 shattered all my ideals ! So I have come to think
 
 SANPRIEL 197 
 
 at last that perhaps it was best as it was best 
 for you. And now do not grudge me the com- 
 forting thought that it has been good for me to 
 suffer as I have. You must not think that I am 
 done with all this that I have suffered, all this that 
 I have sinned. I am living it over again, suffer- 
 ing it continually, again and again." 
 
 She stood wringing her hands. Her voice 
 sounded like that of a child in trouble. 
 
 " There is more that I ought to tell you," she 
 murmured " but I cannot. If I could only hide 
 myself from it, in the darkness of eternity! " 
 
 He had sat down and then risen again. He 
 could not stand still, but passed on in front of 
 her, then came back. A burning impatience took 
 possession of him. Anger flashed in his eyes. 
 
 " You may keep your comforting thought. No, 
 I do not grudge you that. How much you women 
 might spare us if you would only take up the work 
 that nature has given you to do there where 
 you are all powerful, there where we are lil*e chil- 
 dren ! This secret woman's pride, I do not 
 
 understand it! Just when she might do some- 
 thing, lift us to a higher plain and clarify our 
 vision, then she folds her garments about her and 
 withdraws." 
 
 He stood in front of her, speaking vehemently, 
 brokenly. 
 
 " And how did you love me ? Why did you
 
 i 9 8 SANPRIEL 
 
 never try to know the man whom you loved ? You 
 always kept at a distance even when you were near. 
 You were never my friend." 
 
 He continued bitterly: 
 
 " And how is it that women in general love us? 
 What kind of love is it that they have for us? 
 . . . The love which takes great responsibility 
 that they know nothing about. 
 
 " You were never my friend. You failed just 
 when I was in greatest need. It was my mother 
 who came to my rescue." 
 
 He stopped, out of breath. 
 
 Then he stepped forward again, close to her. 
 
 " You should not have done that," he added 
 quietly and in a milder tone. " You left me just 
 when I needed you most. I was bad, weak 
 but there was something better in my nature." 
 
 She looked into his eyes. 
 ' Then you must forgive me," she said slowly, 
 " for having done you such a great wrong. You 
 are right. The way in which I thought of you 
 perhaps it was only another way of thinking of 
 myself. I remember now I was jealous of your 
 mother. I always thought that she stood between 
 us." 
 
 He looked up sharply. 
 
 ' That she never did. She never had any de- 
 sire to do so. But I have never allowed any 
 woman to come between me and my mother."
 
 SANPRIEL 199 
 
 " Yes, now you can see. I ought indeed to have 
 kissed the dust under her feet but I wanted 
 that you should think only of me. ... I cer- 
 tainly thought of no one but myself. Even at 
 that time I was a wicked creature." 
 
 " Forgive me ! I must have hurt you very 
 greatly that you should speak in such a way about 
 yourself." 
 
 " It might be well for us to meet once more 
 . . . and talk matters over. But it is not worth 
 while that we should come here again. ... I 
 mean, I would prefer that I should never see you 
 again. God knows how I wish it I " 
 
 " Give me a ray of hope and do not take it 
 from me again. If you could if we could 
 would you come back to me again? " 
 
 " Forgive me ! I could never, never again be- 
 lieve in you ! I have become such a poor sort of 
 creature that I can believe in nothing." 
 
 He sat down, deathly pale, as if struck by a 
 blow. 
 
 She stared at him. Was it so bad what she 
 had said? 
 
 " I am sorry. It is not my fault but I could 
 not do it. I really cannot help it." 
 
 She wanted to comfort him. 
 
 " It does not matter. It is of no consequence. 
 It is merely . . . this has indeed been merely a 
 little diversion for you as well as for me "
 
 200 SANPRIEL 
 
 He looked up at her silently, as if in supplica- 
 tion. He rose, went over and bent his knee be- 
 fore her. 
 
 " Forgive me for the great wrong which I 
 now see that I have done you. But in spite of 
 it all you are still Sanpriel." 
 
 She turned quickly and hurried on. She stopped 
 and faced about with a hasty, repellent motion, 
 and her voice sounded hard and imperious. 
 
 She wished to go on alone. 
 
 Then she passed on hurriedly, uncertainly, as 
 though she might fall at any moment. 
 
 When she reached the garden all was still. 
 Every light was out. 
 
 She did not go up to her room. She went into 
 the big parlor. They had forgotten to lock the 
 door. 
 
 Almost unconsciously she went over to the piano 
 and stood there. Why was it that she suddenly 
 had a desire to sing? She, who had not sung 
 since Birger was born. 
 
 She remained standing, gazing at the piano. 
 She felt as though she were in the midst of a great 
 illumination, as though she were surrounded by 
 some mysterious presence. Was it the Golden 
 Dream the dream of her youth? 
 
 For the moment a burning joy arose within her
 
 SANPRIEL 201 
 
 . . . something which resembled happiness as she 
 once had thought it to be. 
 
 So he still thought of her . . . had loved 
 
 her loved her now, now 
 
 With a quick movement she opened the piano. 
 She would sing his little song, the one she had 
 sung the first time they were together, and so 
 many times afterward. She wondered if she 
 could remember it. As no one slept in that part 
 of the house she would not be heard. 
 
 She struck a few chords and hummed softly. 
 She did not know whether she could sing at all 
 or not. 
 
 Then she smiled. 
 
 For the voice which for so many years had been 
 hidden away and forgotten, was indeed still there 
 changed, she herself could tell that; but it was 
 there, although it had lost its fullness. Faint and 
 timid, in trembling notes it came, and filled the 
 air with soft, sweet melody. 
 
 It was a light alto, one of those rare voices 
 that can never grow sharp or harsh. With 
 dreamy grace the tones followed one another, all 
 in gentle harmony. 
 
 It was a voice akin to the soughing of the for- 
 est, to the soft melancholy of the night 
 
 It was long past midnight. The dawn had be- 
 gun to break.
 
 ao2 SANPRIEL 
 
 She rose and closed the piano. She felt a sol- 
 emn, quiet joy. She would hurry up to her room. 
 But when she reached the door she stood there 
 as if paralyzed. 
 
 On one of the chairs outside, with his head in 
 a listening attitude toward the door he sat, all 
 shrunk together, weeping. 
 
 Then fear took hold of her, mingled with a wild 
 feeling of joy. Everything swam before her. 
 She supported herself against the door. 
 
 No, she must not again be tempted by anything 
 momentary must not forget herself again. 
 She would thank God for these moments of con- 
 solation, and then quietly go her way, knowing 
 there was nothing more. 
 
 But involuntarily she found herself standing 
 beside him. He stretched out his hand to her. 
 She took it and pressed it to her brow. 
 
 Suddenly she clung to him as if seeking 
 refuge and help. 
 
 It was but a second. Then she realized what 
 she had done. 
 
 It was from him she must save herself. 
 
 And she fled. 
 
 She stood at her window, listening as in a dream 
 to the hollow roar, still half suppressed, of an ap- 
 proaching storm.
 
 SANPRIEL 203 
 
 Then it was upon her. A dark storm-wind 
 which bent the forest. It did her good to see it. 
 
 She sank down in front of the window with her 
 head on the sill. His face rose before her 
 dark, almost unrecognizable, with eyes which 
 seemed to stare at her from the blackest gloom. 
 . . . Had she heard a cry from the depths of a 
 secret grief? 
 
 She half rose. 
 
 That this force within her soul, this power 
 which she felt streaming through her, as the part 
 of herself which could not die that this should 
 be hemmed in, cut off ... this dream in her 
 heart, which Arvid and the children had never 
 cared for . . . that it should wither, die ! It was 
 so terribly incomprehensible ... so utterly with- 
 out meaning. . . . 
 
 With difficulty she dragged herself to her bed. 
 It was strange that she had not lain down imme- 
 diately. She surely must have known how deadly 
 tired she was. She hid her face in the pillows. 
 
 Then she rose again. There was no rest. She 
 sat there all bent over, motionless. 
 
 Then she smiled, full of scorn for herself. 
 
 " No," she whispered. " That which is past 
 cannot come again." 
 
 It seemed to her that she could neither think 
 nor feel any longer. She knew only, that she
 
 204 SANPRIEL 
 
 must go home to all those strange people to Ar- 
 vid and the children. She felt the waves closing 
 over her, dark and noiseless. 
 
 One by one tears filled her eyes. They were 
 cold and bitter tears, the kind which never com- 
 fort, but drop slowly, one by one.
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THERE was an unusual disturbance down on 
 the lawn, quite early that morning. 
 
 Thora Thammers went over to the window, 
 leaned out to look, then forced herself to remain 
 there listening. For now she was going to begin 
 to interest herself in other people, it was indeed 
 her duty. 
 
 Almost everyone was down there, even Fru 
 Iversen and the little Danish countess, who sel- 
 dom showed themselves before luncheon. 
 
 A man had been found lying dead drunk right 
 under the countess' window. 
 
 She had taken it as quite personal that he should 
 have lain down just there, and the German Gen- 
 eral and the Adjunct were so excited over it that 
 Fru Iversen felt that she ought to come to the 
 man's assistance. 
 
 " Poor fellow, he was certainly not hard to 
 please. He had not even stirred." 
 
 The Dean's wife and the -journalist, Betsey 
 Schaum, came over. They thought it was not the 
 right way to do at all. 
 
 Over by the storehouse stood Fru Liss and Don 
 Miguel. They were more interested in the star- 
 
 205
 
 206 SANPRIEL 
 
 ling, which was shrieking and calling for help 
 against the crow. They threw stones, but the 
 starling did not move. He knew that they were 
 aimed at the crow. 
 
 Then Fru von Asten came out and beckoned 
 to Thora. She and the engineer were going for 
 a tramp up the mountain to a cave, and she wanted 
 her to go with them. 
 
 Fru Thammers was such an excellent person, 
 very comfortable to have along, for she never 
 noticed anything. 
 
 Fru von Asten had of late begun to show her a 
 sort of distant, undefined tenderness and had in- 
 vited her to afternoon tea, together with the huge 
 young engineer with the sleepy blue eyes and the 
 little light mustache. 
 
 Sometimes she had joined them, although she 
 thought it foolish that she found it so difficult to 
 say no. 
 
 But to-day she could. 
 
 Fru von Asten said good-by with a smile in 
 which there was no trace of tenderness, and went 
 off with her Mars. 
 
 Thora Thammers followed them with her eyes, 
 exerting herself to think of them. 
 
 " She would like to scratch me. I am now rele- 
 gated to the position of fallen angel." 
 
 She tried to keep her thoughts on Fru von As- 
 ten and her Mars, but it was difficult. Every-
 
 SANPRIEL 207 
 
 thing seemed to slip away, and by the time they 
 were out of sight she had forgotten that they ex- 
 isted. 
 
 Then she tried to put her mind on the others 
 around. She seemed to feel more certain of 
 them. 
 
 Student Adelsson came along with his fresh 
 young face fairly beaming. Shading his eyes 
 from the sun as he looked up, he called to her: 
 
 " Better come down and go fishing with us ! 
 The pike are lying on the surface of the water 
 dreaming of the blue sky . . . and the perch are 
 running straight into the rocks along the shore, 
 and wondering what kind of fish they can be, the 
 great yellow meadow flowers. . . . Come and go 
 along!" 
 
 She shook her head. 
 
 Then Fru Gyllenskjold came out. She gazed 
 at all the people in mild surprise while she pulled 
 on her long gloves. 
 
 She nodded to Thora Thammers. 
 
 " Don't you want to take a morning walk across 
 the meadow for the sake of old times? If it 
 would not bore you." 
 
 From the opposite direction came Samuel Stern. 
 Thora Thammers had seen him coming in the dis- 
 tance. 
 
 " How fortunate for him that nothing affects 
 him," she thought.
 
 208 SANPRIEL 
 
 "No, are you there?" interrupted Fru Gyl- 
 lenskjold as she touched him on the shoulder with 
 her elegant little stick. " Indeed, you ought to 
 be punished. I haven't seen you for ten days. 
 ... I just want to tell you ... I am beginning 
 to believe that ennui is not fatal." 
 
 He lifted his hat, smiling. 
 
 "Your Highness! Why are you bored? 
 Have you not this long time been convinced of the 
 mediocrity of your fellow beings? You are not 
 making allowance for that. I am sorry for you." 
 
 " Sir? It is I who am sorry for you. . . . But 
 now that is over. For the one who knows that 
 sorrow comes from setting one's heart on some- 
 thing he does as the rhinoceros does, withdraws 
 into solitude. It is not I, but an Indian sage, who 
 says that. Are you not going with me, little Fru 
 Thora? Then I'll have to go alone." 
 
 " We will follow at a respectful distance, Wolf 
 and I." 
 
 Thora Thammers withdrew into her room. 
 She could endure it no longer. 
 
 Shortly afterward she took her hat and went 
 out. 
 
 She started down the path that led toward Casa 
 Santa. As she walked it became clear in her mind 
 that it was there she wished to go. 
 
 The little house lay on a slope under the hill 
 with a garden toward the lake. She could see
 
 SANPRIEL 209 
 
 Madame Harder moving about, pruning the shrubs 
 and tying up the vines. Beyond her were two 
 boys weeding. When Adele Harder saw her she 
 came to meet her. Thora Thammers felt that she 
 had not been mistaken. There was something 
 soothing merely in the touch of her hand a ten- 
 derness, as it were, which seemed to embrace her. 
 
 She stood looking around. 
 
 " I had no idea there was so much here," she 
 said. 
 
 Adele Harder laughed. And when she laughed 
 her face was beautiful. There was something 
 about her smile which conquered everything. 
 
 Thora Thammers felt a sense of security, al- 
 though she did not for an instant know what it was 
 she wanted there. 
 
 " I had no idea there was so much here," she 
 said again. 
 
 " Is it not so? Here you will find your friends 
 from Flyen, and some others as well. It is my 
 delight, let me say my fad, to discover Nature's 
 boundaries and then to persuade her to shift them 
 a little. I experiment both on plants and hu- 
 man beings. . . . See here ! And look there ! " 
 She pointed toward the two boys. " I weed out, 
 I sow . . . and it gives me great pleasure. . . . 
 Iver and Hans, you may go to the dairy. Now 
 we'll sit down here under this hop vine where we 
 can look out over the lake. You are tired."
 
 210 SANPRIEL 
 
 " Yes." She rested her head on the green 
 trellis. 
 
 " How comfortable one feels with you," she 
 murmured. And she sat gazing at her in silence. 
 Again she was considering what it was she wanted 
 here. 
 
 " Yes," she said softly, as if in answer to her 
 own thoughts. 
 
 She straightened up. 
 
 " I have come, because I want you to talk to me 
 a little. Some one told me once that your eyes 
 could influence even a tiger. Look at me. Let 
 me feel their influence." 
 
 Adele Harder took her hand in both her own. 
 
 " You should be a little more careful of your- 
 self. You go about so much alone. It is not 
 good for you." 
 
 She did not answer, merely looked up at her, 
 shading her eyes from the light with her hand. 
 Her eyelids were swollen, and the balls felt dry 
 and burning. 
 
 Adele Harder rose. 
 ' You must have a little wine first." 
 
 She went in and came back again immediately. 
 Thora followed her with her eyes as she went and 
 came, then mechanically drank and ate what was 
 brought her. 
 
 Adele Harder sat down opposite her and began 
 to sew industriously.
 
 SANPRIEL 211 
 
 ' This is a blouse for Iver. It is his birthday 
 to-morrow. Now you can watch the lake. No- 
 tice how peacefully it lies there after last night's 
 storm." 
 
 There was a pause. 
 
 "Are you comfortable?" 
 
 " Yes." Thora Thammers looked up and tried 
 to smile. " There was some one up there who 
 called you a queen without a country; but Mer- 
 chant Stern thought that you ruled not only a 
 country, but a kingdom an invisible one of 
 the best forces of life. I think it must be true, 
 for it is so comfortable here." 
 
 She closed her eyes and grew deathly pale for 
 an instant. A thrill of joy had passed through 
 her as she spoke of him, a tremor at the mere men- 
 tion of his name. 
 
 Madame Harder smiled. 
 
 "Omar Pasha is so generous but I am to 
 talk to you," she continued gayly. " What shall 
 I tell you?" 
 
 " Something about yourself." 
 
 There was a moment of silence. She looked 
 up from her work. 
 
 " I was young once," she said slowly. ' What 
 was my happiness at that time was shattered. I 
 saved myself by taking up something else. It is 
 best to turn from small things to great." 
 
 Thora glanced at the pure, peaceful expression,
 
 212 SANPRIEL 
 
 and at that moment bitterly realized the distance 
 between them. 
 
 " Yes," she said, " such things sound very well 
 if one is good enough. There was some one once 
 who called Christianity a divine invention. It is 
 that, for it is merciful. It closes the doors on the 
 depths of suffering. Man has nothing to do with 
 that. There is a loving Father who arranges 
 everything for the best. So the little happiness 
 becomes a big one." 
 
 Madame Harder looked at her for a moment. 
 Then she said: 
 
 " My religion is not to sit and wait until every- 
 thing shall be arranged by a Supreme Being. It 
 is to fight the evil and to do good so long as I can. 
 And my happiness ! It is not my own little per- 
 sonal happiness that grows into the larger, it is 
 something entirely different it is the faculty of 
 being able to think of others." 
 
 She paused. Then she added, with a little 
 smile : 
 
 ' The entrance to the depths of suffering is 
 never closed. There is always an avenue of ap- 
 proach for one who wishes to go down. Most 
 people dare not, and cannot. Some do so and 
 never return." 
 
 She glanced inquiringly at her. 
 
 " Sorrow acts so differently on different people. 
 Some are strengthened by it, others crushed. But
 
 SANPRIEL 213 
 
 it is my religion that one must not allow oneself 
 to be crushed. 
 
 " I also know something about suffering," she 
 added softly. " I have tried not to be weak, but 
 to rise above it and free myself from it. ... We 
 must learn to make use of it, to transform it into 
 a power for work." 
 
 Thora Thammers straightened up involuntarily. 
 The blood rose to her cheeks, and she spoke im- 
 petuously. 
 
 " But that little personal happiness which you 
 consider so unimportant, is nevertheless a force, 
 the best incentive to work. One needs to be 
 happy in order to be able to work. I mean, the 
 fact that one is happy makes one strong, and the 
 fact that one has lost his happiness, or has never 
 possessed it, that fact takes his power from him." 
 
 She could not get away from her own ideas. 
 Her heart shrank back and passionately urged her 
 to set up this earthly joy against the stern require- 
 ments of the heavenly law. She must defend her- 
 self against the impossible. 
 
 " I cannot . . . and I do not want to," she 
 again interrupted. " One thing is certain : in or- 
 der to be able to accomplish anything one needs 
 to belong to earth. This little earthly happi- 
 ness ... if one has that, then one can grow still 
 more, can do much more " 
 
 " Yes, but you are thinking only of one kind
 
 214 SANPRIEL 
 
 of happiness, and you believe there is nothing else 
 in the world. It is just that fact that makes peo- 
 ple unhappy." 
 
 She took her hand in both her own and drew 
 her down by her side. 
 
 Thora avoided her gaze. 
 
 " One must look about and busy oneself with 
 something," she continued after a pause. 
 
 " Do you know what my dream is? It is to 
 be able to accomplish something, be it never so 
 little, in the work of advancing mankind . . . 
 and to do it in such a way that each step forward 
 may take less time, may cost less blood and an- 
 guish. You are right; one needs to have faith in 
 order to join in such work that is the one in- 
 vincible weapon that we have. With that we 
 shall some day overcome the miseries of this 
 world. . . . 
 
 " Come, join us! Remember, it is through 
 women that the redemption of the earth shall 
 come. Let us work while it is day. Let us not 
 grow weary in well-doing. For, all in good time, 
 we shall reap the harvest, provided we do not 
 grow weary." 
 
 ' Yes, you have the courage to take up the work; 
 but I, the earth-bound, cannot. I think those 
 are crushing words, torturing to one's senses, 
 cruel to mankind we shall reap the harvest, 
 provided we do not grow weary! What irony in
 
 SANPRIEL 215 
 
 the expression! It is like scornful laughter di- 
 rected at us, poor worms in the dust. For we are 
 always weary, always. We shall never reap the 
 harvest! " 
 
 " Those are the words of life, wonderful words ! 
 They will some day gather all our forces into one 
 impetuous will, and kindle a fire from soul to soul. 
 Then it will no longer move so slowly, this work 
 of establishing peace on earth." 
 
 Thora stared at her. The expression of her 
 face was inspiring, and in her voice was the note 
 of a living faith. 
 
 She turned away, blushing for herself. 
 
 Again she rose with a hasty movement. 
 
 " How fortunate you are and so full of cour- 
 age ! While I I am afraid of life. Teach 
 me, lift me up, if you can. I call myself a Chris- 
 tian, but I am not. Everything seems to me so 
 unspeakably empty. I see no God, either in the 
 heavens, or on earth. . . . But you see him. 
 Christians move about the earth on wings and at- 
 tain to all things heavenly. I am bound, tied 
 fast. Loose me, take me with you." 
 
 She sank down on the bench and broke into a 
 flood of tears. She struggled to control herself. 
 
 " You must excuse me, but I am so tired." 
 
 Adele Harder waited for a moment. Then 
 she said quietly: 
 
 " Take for your abiding help the all-sufficing
 
 2i6 SANPRIEL 
 
 Lord's Prayer. Peace goes with it. And do you 
 not love the old Psalms? Think what they have 
 been to mankind. Go to them ; they will give you 
 peace. They bring rest and quiet to the weary." 
 
 She rose and placed her hand on the bowed 
 head. 
 
 " You want me to give you some of my faith," 
 she said sorrowfully. " You know, one never 
 gets anything free . . . What you would live 
 upon you must win for yourself. . . . 
 
 " Sit still and calm yourself. You see, one 
 must endure that which cannot be changed. One 
 owes that to oneself, is it not true? And it is 
 well to take refuge where big things grow. Then 
 one comes to see how small the little things 
 are. . . . 
 
 " Also one must make an effort to help others. 
 I know of nothing better. If one can only help 
 to bring a bit of the light of heaven down into 
 the gloom of this daily life, and can have a share 
 in scattering love around here on earth! Con- 
 tinuous growth is the necessary condition of all 
 progress. One must teach men to cease hating 
 one another, then perhaps some day they may 
 learn to love one another." 
 
 Thora Thammers lifted her head and gazed at 
 her dully. 
 
 " Ah, but all that is so impossible I For as one
 
 SANPRIEL 217 
 
 lives, something is taken from one . . . the best." 
 
 " On the contrary. As one lives, something is 
 gained. Our childhood and youth hold germs of 
 promise. Life is much greater when these de- 
 velop and the promises unfold." 
 
 " But that never happens. They all die within 
 one and everything grows cold. How I wish that 
 I could " 
 
 " One must not be satisfied with wishing. You 
 know that to a certain extent one creates his own 
 life. Within ourselves in the depths of our na- 
 ture, it is there we find what we have use for." 
 
 Thora Thammers shook her head with a forced 
 smile. 
 
 " Within me there is nothing left . . . for 
 no, I cannot tell how I have suffered! " 
 
 " One can never do that. There is always so 
 much that cannot be expressed," she added quietly. 
 " How infinitesimally small is that which can be 
 expressed, compared with that for which we can 
 find no words that which includes, not only our 
 suffering, but our deepest joy, our strength and our 
 hope and our faith." 
 
 She rose, pale and moved. Memories which 
 had slumbered within her were awakened again. 
 
 " To live is not always to get just what one may 
 once have desired. It is rather to feel that one has 
 a soul, and to know what one owes to it.
 
 2i 8 SANPRIEL 
 
 " And ought we not to keep in mind the good 
 things we possess? There is our immortal long- 
 ing which buoys us up like wings. Then there is 
 the sanctuary of our own hearts where we may 
 take refuge. For this let us rejoice. Let us be 
 glad for everything as we find it. The only thing 
 that is worthy of us is to be able to use everything 
 just as it is and to use it well." 
 
 Thora sat silently gazing before her. 
 
 Adele Harder once more grew calm and cheery. 
 She looked over at Thora with her mild expres- 
 sion and began gathering up her work. 
 
 " Now you will stay and take luncheon with me. 
 Come, let us sit over there where we can breathe 
 in the fragrance of the forest, and the wild flowers, 
 and the sea." 
 
 Thora followed her mechanically; then stopped 
 and stood looking at her as if not knowing what 
 she did. 
 
 ' Yes," she said at last, slowly. " I am sorry 
 for all the wrong that I have done, all the evil that 
 I have thought. Now I see it all." 
 
 Adele Harder put her arm around her and drew 
 her to herself. 
 
 " I also have made the mistake of being un- 
 kind. I have every reason to scorn myself. One 
 never does what one ought to do. But now there 
 must be at least one thing for which you are glad." 
 
 " There is indeed. I am glad because I came
 
 SANPRIEL 219 
 
 to you, and because you have talked with me." 
 She tried to smile. 
 
 " But there is so much for which you should 
 be glad. For instance, that the sun returns each 
 day, what about that? " 
 
 She stopped, looked at her and smiled. 
 
 " Is it so difficult to believe? The world is in- 
 deed full of miracles. What can not come forth 
 from a mere handful of earth? Is not every lit- 
 tle blossom a wonder? And then the magnificent 
 thought, that one has work and can share in 
 the preparation for that greater time which is yet 
 to come, can help in the building of freedom's 
 highway, along which mankind is some day to ad- 
 vance to higher conditions. Is it not true that 
 this is a great privilege? " 
 
 Thora Thammers looked at her and again tried 
 to smile. 
 
 " Yes! And so all things are finally evened up 
 and thus quietly brought to a conclusion. 
 
 " But now I must go, I cannot stay here. I am 
 going home and must go and pack my trunk." 
 
 Adele Harder silently embraced her, then fol- 
 lowed her to the gate. 
 
 " Let me hear from you." 
 
 Thora Thammers bowed, took her hand, kissed 
 it, and pressed it to her burning brow. Then she 
 smiled, passed hastily on, and disappeared at the 
 turn in the road.
 
 220 SANPRIEL 
 
 Adele Harder stood gazing after her. There 
 was a shadow in her bright glance. 
 
 But then the boys came back, and the young 
 girls from the dairy who were to read with her.
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 THORA THAMMERS straightway began 
 to pack. 
 
 She did not go down to luncheon, but had some- 
 thing brought up to her room. She was ready 
 so that she might have gone on the afternoon 
 train; but she preferred to wait and drive over at 
 midnight in time for the morning train. 
 
 In this way she could slip away entirely unno- 
 ticed. Then, too, she could go up on Flyen 
 just once more. 
 
 But it would not do to go before the usual 
 time. 
 
 She remained in her room the entire day. She 
 had locked her door, and finally, after adjusting 
 her toilet, she sat down to read. 
 
 Several of the ladies came to inquire for her. 
 Student Adelsson wanted to come up and show her 
 his fish; but the maid had been instructed that she 
 could not see any one. 
 
 While they were all in at dinner she went down 
 and up on Flyen, where she had sat the evening 
 before. 
 
 She sat down to wait calmly, as if she were
 
 222 SANPRIEL 
 
 coming there again the next evening, and every 
 evening after. 
 
 She had no idea how time passed. She did not 
 know whether she had sat there for two hours, or 
 for a quarter of an hour, when suddenly she was 
 startled by feeling Wolf's cold nose under her 
 hand. 
 
 She rose. Samuel Stern came straight toward 
 her, looking somewhat surprised. 
 
 She did not move. 
 
 A troubled expression came over his face. 
 
 "What is it? I did not expect to find you 
 here." 
 
 " Nor am I here except for the last time. I 
 am going away I start to-night. . . . Yes, I 
 must go home. ... I am going home to Arvid. 
 But there was something I wanted to tell you 
 first." She repeated it several times and her lips 
 grew white. " I am so sorry for it all. . . . You 
 were right in what you said. I have always 
 thought only of myself." 
 
 He laid his hand on her arm and gently forced 
 her to sit down. He seemed not to have heard 
 what she said, and not really to understand that 
 now they were to separate. 
 
 He began with some idle questions, entirely ir- 
 relevant. 
 
 ' You must not go." He sat down beside her, 
 anxiously watching her face in its stony silence.
 
 SANPRIEL 223 
 
 " Why are you so pale," he whispered " so 
 deathly pale? Is it the wind in the forest? It 
 sounds so threatening. . . . You, who understand 
 the speech of the wind, what does it say, when it 
 seems so angry? " 
 
 " It says," she answered slowly, " that all is 
 over." . . . 
 
 At an involuntary movement on his part she 
 turned toward him. 
 
 " It makes no difference to you to-morrow, 
 or the day after, you will have forgotten me 
 again." 
 
 " I shall never more forget you ! " 
 
 " To-morrow you will have forgotten me," she 
 said again, quietly, persistently. 
 
 " Never again can I forget you, Thora, that I 
 promise, for you do not know how I love to look 
 at your face. When you were young, I never felt 
 for you then nor for any one else what I now 
 feel for you. Do you not yet believe that I love 
 you now, perhaps as you wish to be loved? " 
 
 She sat with her head bowed in her hands. 
 
 Suddenly she raised her head, and a cold gleam 
 came into her eyes. Her voice, at first a mere 
 whisper, soon rose to an unnatural pitch. 
 
 " There is something that I have not dared to 
 think of ... so I have kept it locked up in my 
 inner consciousness. But now I must bring it 
 forth, so that you may hear it. I should like to
 
 224 SANPRIEL 
 
 shriek it out so that all mankind would know what 
 I am. I can no longer endure that you should 
 think better of me tha,n I deserve. You must 
 know what I am, so that you can despise me 
 
 " One thing only have I sought I wanted to 
 find happiness for myself. . . . That time that 
 you disappointed me ... I could have killed 
 you then! Afterward I lost my bearings. I 
 thought there surely must be happiness for me 
 somewhere I believed it was with Arvid. . . . 
 But it was not there. And I had no peace. I was 
 looking for something that would make life won- 
 derful. If such a thing were to be found on 
 earth I wanted to possess it I have always been 
 so greedy, and have thought only of myself. 
 
 '' There came a time when I wavered in my duty 
 to my home to my husband and my children. 
 My thoughts became centered on another man. I 
 was starving and consumed with thirst. It was 
 like an intoxicating drink. I dreamed my dream 
 again. I thought the magnificence of earth be- 
 longed to me. Then came the hour of awakening 
 when I found that I was poorer than before . . . 
 and I saw how hideous it was. In the cup of life 
 which I had quaffed, there was bitterness the 
 bitterness of death ! " 
 
 She turned her head toward him. 
 
 " I have told you this so that you may despise 
 me as I do myself."
 
 SANPRIEL 225 
 
 He rose. It cost him an effort to speak. 
 
 ' You have had time to forget all this, it seems 
 to me." 
 
 His voice was quiet with suppressed pain. 
 
 " I remember it all more distinctly than ever." 
 
 ' That is because you have forced yourself to 
 recall it for my sake. You should not have 
 done so, for I have forgotten it again." 
 
 She turned away. 
 
 " Thora ! We have done one another great 
 injury. Forgive me! Yet white is your color. 
 See, the white butterflies are still here, following 
 you." 
 
 She pressed both hands to her breast. 
 
 " You must not speak this way to me." 
 
 "Thora, what is the matter? What is it? 
 Why are you going? " 
 
 She did not answer. Her eyes stared vacantly 
 before her. 
 
 " You seem so cold ! Thora ! " 
 
 She turned hastily toward him. Her face 
 flushed. 
 
 " I am glad of it, for then I have gained some- 
 thing." 
 
 " You have lost. . . . Forgive me ! It is my 
 fault." 
 
 " Oh, it does not matter," she said faintly. " It 
 is so often that one means nothing by what one 
 says " Her voice sounded like broken crystal.
 
 226 SANPRIEL 
 
 He stepped in front of her. His eyes grew 
 dark and burning. 
 
 " Thora, here in this silence with only the night 
 to hear us, you must listen. I must tell you how 
 I love you ! . . . And you ! Give me a word, 
 that I may have something to comfort me. I will 
 come this evening and knock at your door just to 
 hear your voice." 
 
 " You must not talk to me this way." 
 
 " Thora is there nothing in your heart that 
 tells you that you can believe me now? " 
 
 She pressed her hands to her brow and closed 
 her eyes. There arose within her a wild desire to 
 throw herself in his arms and believe it. 
 
 She paused for a moment. Then she said 
 quietly : 
 
 " No ! It is best for you . . . and I am all 
 right now. For such things, one never suffers 
 again ... I mean, a second time." 
 
 She smiled, rose and stretched out her hand. 
 
 " Farewell ! Amuse yourself as long as you 
 can indeed, I mean it," she added gently. " I 
 did not mean to hurt you." 
 
 His lips trembled. 
 
 "Thank you! When are you coming up 
 again? " 
 
 She looked into his eyes for a moment. 
 
 "Do you not understand?" she whispered. 
 "Never again!"
 
 SANPRIEL 227 
 
 She hurried on before him, down the slope 
 and reached her room without meeting any one. 
 
 A pang shot through her heart as she saw her 
 trunks all packed and ready to go. 
 
 So she must she must go. 
 
 She sat down by the window and looked out at 
 the fading twilight. 
 
 The fir trees over by the storehouse had lost 
 their bluish tinge and had grown dark green in 
 color. There came Fru von Asten and her Mars. 
 How happy they looked ! 
 
 Suddenly the thought struck her : Never again 
 would anyone care for her, Thora Thammers 
 it was all over never, never again ! 
 
 For the first time a sense of great loneliness 
 took possession of her. She shuddered. An ir- 
 resistible chill passed through her veins 
 
 She would not have it. She rose and went over 
 to the table to pick up the few last things. 
 
 There lay a telegram and a letter. She snatched 
 up the letter. It must have come that morning, 
 but she had not noticed it. The telegram was 
 still older. It must have been delayed at the of- 
 fice. It was from Arvid's sister, and said that 
 Arvid was very ill. She must come home. 
 
 She tore open the letter. That also was from 
 Arvid's sister, written a day later. Arvid had 
 come home happy and well after his sailing trip 
 with his friends. The day after he had enter-
 
 228 SANPRIEL 
 
 tained them at dinner. That night he had had a 
 stroke and had died a few hours after. 
 
 She sat dazed reading alternately, first the 
 letter, then the telegram. She could not under- 
 stand. It was not possible that Arvid was dead. 
 
 She was indeed just on the point of going home 
 to him to do penance to love him and see if she 
 could be of use to him for the time they had left 
 together 
 
 And now, after that long, empty life, not a word 
 could she say to him. They needed to talk to- 
 gether. She needed his forgiveness. He needed 
 that she should consider him a little bit. Arvid 
 ... he was after all like a child ... it was so 
 easy to please him. . . . 
 
 She must go home to Arvid. But all was quiet 
 with him jiow no fever in the air, no laughter 
 along with the hustle and bustle 
 
 She was sorry for Arvid, that he was dead, he 
 who enjoyed life so much. It would have been 
 better if it had been Samuel Stern ... or better 
 still, if it had been she. Oh, would to God that 
 it were she ! 
 
 No, she was not to be so fortunate. She 
 would have to stay here and accept her fate for 
 now there came to her the thought of all she had 
 to regret . . . from all the days and years of the 
 past it came, pressing down upon her. . . . And 
 how endlessly, unceasingly it would torture her!
 
 SANPRIEL 229 
 
 She laughed aloud. Strange, how she could sit 
 there imagining those things ! Of course Arvid 
 was not dead. He never had been dead when she 
 came home. On the contrary, they had always 
 been so comfortable together; and now this time 
 it would be better than before 
 
 She sat there motionless, all shrunk together, 
 waiting, not merely for the carriage which was to 
 take her to the station, but for Arvid. He must 
 surely come again. In any case they must have a 
 talk together. 
 
 When the carriage came there was no one 
 around. A storm had come up, for which she was 
 thankful. It was a relief to feel the rain beating 
 on her face and the wind tugging at her garments. 
 
 She ordered the man to drive on down the hill. 
 
 When they reached the gate there was some one 
 there who opened it, then stood gazing at her in 
 deep silence. 
 
 She looked up. It was Samuel Stern. 
 
 She bowed her head and passed him silently. 
 
 Then he asked softly: " Are you going home 
 to Arvid?" 
 
 She heard, but she did not turn. 
 
 " Yes, I am going home to Arvid," she an- 
 swered slowly, but firmly.
 
 Ill 
 
 Sweet as a song that once consoled our pain, 
 But never will be sung to us again, 
 
 Is thy remembrance. 
 Now the hour of rest has come to thee, 
 Now the hour of rest has come to thee, 
 
 Mother dear, sleep! 
 
 Sleep, darling, sleep! 
 
 It is best. It is best. 
 
 LONGFELLOW
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 SEVERAL years had passed. 
 Forest Home Hotel had gotten the reputa- 
 tion of being a place where people liked to come 
 again. It had a goodly list of regular visitors, 
 and the house was always full. 
 
 To Marit Hennerud's intense satisfaction the 
 German General and Baron was among the regu- 
 lar guests. And as he liked to bring with him 
 some of his family and friends, there had at last 
 come to be quite a select company of the nobility. 
 
 The Danish element likewise had shown a ten- 
 dency to increase. Instead of the single little 
 Countess Mohrenberg there were now something 
 over a half dozen representatives from Denmark. 
 
 Thus five years had passed since these people 
 had met here for the first time. This fact they 
 discovered one day out on the veranda, and they 
 were all unanimously agreed that it was very 
 strange how time could pass so rapidly. 
 
 Among the Norwegians Principal De Roch had 
 been one of the most loyal. 
 
 There were some who still wanted to call him 
 Adjunct, but that would not do now. For after 
 occupying the position of Assistant Principal for 
 
 233
 
 234 SANPRIEL 
 
 three years he had now risen to that of Principal. 
 His dignity of manner had increased also his 
 concern for his environment, which had come to 
 be a sort of monomania with him. That he 
 should be so concerned about himself seemed to 
 him perfectly natural, since he knew so well what 
 people ought to be. 
 
 Fru Sahm was also among those who had not 
 missed a year. Time had likewise given her 
 added power. With the greatest ease she could 
 now lay before people difficult questions that they 
 could not possibly explain. 
 
 The Hemb family had not failed either. They 
 were always among the first to arrive. Two years 
 before Froken Hemb had met her husband. The 
 world had begun to look brighter to her, and she 
 no longer had such an irritating effect upon Fru 
 Wanda Arescho. 
 
 Fru Thamar Gyllenskjold was not there that 
 summer. They missed her, but felt freer. 
 
 However, they missed Merchant Stern more. 
 He had been there every year, but usually came 
 toward the close of the summer. That was be- 
 cause of the change in the hunting season. 
 
 The Dean's wife thought it was very uncertain 
 about his coming this year. For one thing, there 
 was that unpleasant episode of the year before in 
 connection with his wife and the engineer. For 
 another thing, he had just lost his mother.
 
 SANPRIEL 235 
 
 They continued to talk about Merchant Stern's 
 wife and the engineer, who had gone off in a hurry 
 to America and had married there. Fru Iversen 
 did not think he had taken it much to heart. She 
 had met him a few times during the winter. 
 
 There were some who felt sorry for the en- 
 gineer and were afraid that his gigantic strength 
 would not be sufficient to protect him nor even 
 the new weapon of destruction which he had re- 
 cently patented. 
 
 Principal De Roch had gone around taking his 
 annual census. He reported that this year also 
 their number would be practically complete. The 
 only one whom he considered entirely lost to them 
 was Fru Thammers, who had not been there for 
 the last three years. 
 
 But Fru Iversen announced that this year Fru 
 Thammers was coming, after all, with a young 
 niece. Fru Iversen had received this information 
 first-hand. She had been in Bergen in the spring 
 and had visited Fru Thammers, who had been left 
 so much alone since the Colonel's death. Her 
 daughter was married and living in Germany, and 
 her son had given up his studies and had taken a 
 position with a commercial house in London. So 
 she had taken charge of her husband's young niece. 
 It was touching to see how she cherished the Col- 
 onel's memory. He had been very fond of the
 
 236 SANPRIEL 
 
 young Dyveke, so now Fru Thammers could not 
 do enough for her. 
 
 Fru Iversen continued to talk of the young girl, 
 who was the sweetest sight one could wish to see. 
 But the physicians were anxious about her, and 
 wanted her to come up here. She had had three 
 brothers and sisters, all of whom had been taken 
 with consumption between the ages of eighteen 
 and twenty, and had died within a short time. 
 They thought the air up here would help to tide 
 her over this period. 
 
 Some of the ladies began to talk about Madame 
 Harder, who had been there through all the early 
 part of the summer. At heart they were not at 
 all sorry that she had now gone. 
 
 As the event proved this time, Fru Iversen was 
 right. 
 
 A fortnight had passed, when one morning at 
 the breakfast table they heard that Fru Thammers 
 had arrived. The Dean's wife, who was her 
 neighbor, had been in to see her. 
 
 Yes, of course she had grown old after all 
 that trouble but there was something about her 
 her eyes were just as young and dreamy-looking 
 as ever, and her complexion was remarkably fresh 
 and clear. The Dean's wife thought that she 
 might take a little credit for that.
 
 SANPRIEL 237 
 
 But the seventeen-year-old Dyveke! The 
 Dean's wife had never thought to see any one with 
 a skin so transparently white and rose-colored. 
 
 The doors and windows stood open, and from 
 the veranda Fru Thammers could see them in the 
 dining room. 
 
 " Now they are talking us over," she remarked 
 to Dyveke, who was inside. 
 
 In an instant Dyveke was by her side deli- 
 cate, slender, supple as a willow. She did not 
 walk. Her movements were like those of a bird. 
 
 She bent down and kissed Fru Thammers. 
 
 " Good morning, dear little mother. How 
 amusing that they should be talking about us, and 
 isn't it fun that in such a short time we should be 
 here!" 
 
 " Yes, but you must get strong now." 
 
 Dyveke laughed out as she doubled up her fists. 
 
 " Am I not strong? Do you know, little Aunt 
 Mother, I have decided that I am going to gain 
 strength from all these people up here. Yes, I 
 am going to enjoy life here immensely." 
 
 Fru Thammers laughed at her expressions 
 she could never make them strong enough and 
 had begun to make them up herself. 
 
 " Come, we must go down now to breakfast." 
 
 It looked as though Dyveke were going to keep
 
 2 3 8 SANPRIEL 
 
 her word, for before two days had passed she was 
 a favorite with everyone. 
 
 Such delicate grace and such charming enthusi- 
 asm they never had seen before. Her laughter 
 was so merry that not even the birds of heaven 
 could produce such music everyone listened for 
 it, and they all had to laugh with her. 
 
 She had all the young people at her feet. To 
 the older ladies she was a little child, who shocked 
 them with her incredible boisterousness, and yet 
 who received permission to do things that no one 
 else was allowed to do. 
 
 And as for the men even the older and more 
 serious minded among them when she appeared 
 in the morning with her pink cheeks and golden 
 hair, she seemed to them like a young Aurora ris- 
 ing and waving her scepter above them. 
 
 Principal De Roch had least of all been able to 
 protect himself. In the consternation of the first 
 few days he had felt himself justified in bestowing 
 a number of severe glances, although in the end 
 he had been obliged to submit. 
 
 Unmoved by his dignity she had eaten philo- 
 penas and drunk healths with him, while all his 
 efforts to bring about a more suitable state of af- 
 fairs had grown perceptibly weaker. 
 
 Nor did it help matters for him to remonstrate 
 with her for being so earthly. In vain did he ex- 
 plain to her one day, that her delight in material
 
 SANPRIEL 239 
 
 things was excessive, and that long ago Thomas 
 Aquinas had uttered a warning for those people 
 who were possessed of nine senses instead of five, 
 and who, with the blood rushing to their heads 
 like fire, went to excess even in those days. 
 
 Dyveke had clapped her hands together in de- 
 light. 
 
 " Oh, Principal De Roch, you are really the 
 most amusing man I know, for that is just exactly 
 the way I am! How the blood does rush to my 
 head! Oh, the world, how I do enjoy it more 
 than any one on earth! " 
 
 And she was off. 
 
 Not a week had passed before the young men 
 were all in love with her. She enjoyed it. In her 
 young, heartless way she made fun of them. She 
 discovered that her slightest whim was a law to 
 them, and she used her power with wild reckless- 
 ness, at times making them appear ridiculous, all 
 on her account. Fru Thammers was astounded at 
 first. Then she grew frightened at the responsi- 
 bility she had taken upon herself. She began to 
 remonstrate and forbid, but with little avail. 
 
 Dyveke had her ow,n way of disarming her. 
 She herself could not explain why she should feel 
 such a pang at the heart, merely at the way in 
 which Dyveke looked at her when she said: 
 " You must let me do it, little Mother, for I just 
 must! "
 
 2 4 o SANPRIEL 
 
 Marit Hennerud was among those who came 
 under the yoke of Dyveke's tyranny. She was 
 persuaded to give her full authority over one of 
 the boats, and Dyveke began to carry on all sorts 
 of sport down below. 
 
 There was a little path leading up through a 
 dense clump of trees. She would untie the boat 
 and draw it up close along the shore. Then, 
 starting from the top of the hill, she would run 
 down through the wood, and with one bound land 
 in the boat in such a way as to send it shooting out 
 over the water. 
 
 At first only a few saw her. Soon others dis- 
 covered what was going on, but it was strongly 
 impressed upon them that the old folks must not 
 know about it. 
 
 However, the spectators steadily increased in 
 numbers. They were completely carried away by 
 her daring. For, as she came rushing down 
 through the trees, wild and radiant, with her long 
 bright hair streaming behind her, and with a little 
 shriek sprang into the boat one could think of 
 nothing but a dryad or one of Diana's nymphs. 
 
 She confessed that she had seen something sim- 
 ilar in a circus when she was small, and since then 
 she had always thought how fine it would be to 
 try it herself. 
 
 But she did not like to have all the others
 
 SANPRIEL 241 
 
 around. She enjoyed it most when she could steal 
 away entirely alone or if only one other were 
 there. 
 
 That other one was the General's nephew, the 
 handsome young Tyrolese, Baron Crone. 
 
 For he was so frail. He was going to die soon, 
 and he sat there so quietly. He never said a 
 word, but merely sat there staring at her with his 
 great black eyes. 
 
 But finally this as well as other escapades came 
 to Fru Thammers' ear. Among other things, the 
 story that one young man had almost lost his life 
 for her sake. 
 
 This most certainly could not go on. She must 
 talk seriously with her. 
 
 Then Dyveke was seized with such a violent 
 outburst of grief that Fru Thammers grew fright- 
 ened. She threw herself into her arms and whis- 
 pered, half choked with sobs: 
 
 " Little Mother, do you not understand that I 
 must hurry and see how everything is?" 
 
 And there came into her eyes an expression 
 which gave Fru Thammers a better understanding 
 an expression which she never could forget. 
 There was a hidden, secret terror in the young 
 mind. In spite of the assurances of the physi- 
 cians, she had a presentiment that her summer of 
 life would be short.
 
 242 SANPRIEL 
 
 It was as if Death had passed through the room 
 with a finger on his lips and a smile in his eye. 
 
 Fru Thammers pressed her close. She could 
 not say another word.
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 FRU THAMMERS had just returned from 
 her usual solitary evening walk when Dyveke 
 came rushing in. 
 
 ' There is a man down there whom they call 
 Omar Pasha. He has just come, although they 
 have been waiting for him for a long time. Why 
 does he come so late, when the season is so nearly 
 over?" 
 
 A change passed over Fru Thammers' face, 
 but she answered quietly : " I think he would 
 probably prefer to be alone this year, for he has 
 had a great loss." 
 
 " But he was so jolly. He brought two dogs 
 with him. Do you know, little Mother, I could 
 easily fall in love with such a man. Indeed I 
 could, he has such a wonderful face. It is mag- 
 nificent the way it lights up." 
 
 Fru Thammers smiled. 
 
 " You are foolish, child. He is an old man 
 and you are a little girl." 
 
 " Pooh, what difference does that make? If 
 people are old that is nothing against them. You 
 are old also, yet I am certainly in love with you. 
 But then, for that matter you are not old, you are 
 
 243
 
 244 SANPRIEL 
 
 my little young mother and anyway, I don't 
 like him. He didn't see me once, although we 
 were down there together for an hour. He just 
 seemed to be looking inside of me at something 
 else that wasn't me. 
 
 " Little Mother, you mustn't look at me that 
 way. I want everyone to be pleased with me. I 
 am made that way, and everyone must like me. 
 They must." 
 
 She laughed. Then tears came to her eyes. 
 
 " Indeed, you look so funny and so scared, lit- 
 tle Mother." 
 
 She had much more to tell about the man, but 
 more especially about the dogs. Wolf had a sav- 
 age look in his eye, as if he wanted to bite her, 
 but she liked him. She would tame him. 
 
 Fru Thammers continued to sit there chatter- 
 ing with Dyveke. 
 
 She felt a secret thrill every time Dyveke men- 
 tioned that name; but as she became conscious of 
 that fact, she suddenly rose, placing her hand ca- 
 ressingly on Dyveke's head. 
 
 " It is late, dear. You must go to bed." 
 
 She did not see Samuel Stern the next day. 
 There were two dining-rooms, and he was placed 
 in the small room. 
 
 She thought she would certainly meet him some- 
 where in the course of the day, but she did not see
 
 SANPRIEL 245 
 
 him. Nor did she see him on Flyen in the even- 
 ing. 
 
 Had their roles changed? Was it now he who 
 was avoiding her? She smiled sadly. He need 
 not take that trouble. 
 
 Four days passed and she had not seen him, 
 for now she also kept out of the way. She 
 thought he no longer went up on Flyen and that 
 reassured her. 
 
 But one day as she stood talking with Fru Iver- 
 sen she saw him coming down from there. Fru 
 Iversen wanted to know if she did not think he 
 was lonesome. One could well understand why 
 he should grieve for such a remarkable mother. 
 They saw but little of him now, yet they all en- 
 joyed him so much. Everything that he said was 
 always so amusing. He was really just the same 
 as ever. 
 
 And she did so love to see him come walking 
 along like that. There was something quite irre- 
 sistible in his entire bearing. Yes, they all 
 thought so. 
 
 Fru Thammers agreed with her perfectly. 
 
 The next morning she saw him sitting on the lit- 
 tle porch in front of his cottage. Perhaps it 
 would do him good if she spoke to him. She 
 would go down there. 
 
 Her heart began to beat violently as she started 
 forward, but she forced herself to be calm.
 
 246 SANPRIEL 
 
 He did not see her. 
 
 When she stood in front of him and spoke, he 
 gave a start and his face grew colorless. But it 
 was only for a moment. He reached out his 
 hand. 
 
 " Oh, it is you! So you are here! " 
 
 His tone was as matter of fact as if it were the 
 most natural thing in the world that she should 
 come down there. 
 
 She sat down embarrassed. 
 
 " How are you? " 
 
 At the same moment they looked at one another. 
 It was a mutually inquiring glance as if both 
 sought to learn what changes had been wrought 
 by life and time. 
 
 It seemed to her that he had not changed. The 
 hair was as thick and curly as ever. The vein 
 in the center of the high forehead stood out just 
 as prominently as it used to, while the mouth, with 
 its expression of firmness, was the same the 
 lines around it perhaps a trifle deeper. 
 
 She looked away. She dared not look in his 
 eyes. 
 
 " You have grieved for your husband," he said. 
 ' That is good of you. And you still mourn for 
 him!" 
 
 He looked down at her dress. 
 
 She did not look up. His tone was so indif- 
 ferent.
 
 SANPRIEL 247 
 
 ' Yes, I still mourn," she answered slowly. 
 
 She had difficulty in keeping the tears back. 
 
 They must not talk together in this way. 
 
 " I wanted to find you," she said softly. " I 
 wanted to tell you how often I have thought of 
 you since you lost your mother." 
 
 He glanced up at her with a little laugh. 
 
 " Oh, indeed! Was that why you came? As 
 to that, you ought not to come here and tell me 
 that my mother is dead. Other people come and 
 say to me : ' Yes, you are indeed fortunate in 
 having your mother.' And some of them come 
 and ask: 'Is your mother living?' I answer 
 them all : ' Yes, God be thanked that my mother 
 lives.' It is much better so. I want to tell every 
 one that I am still so fortunate as to have my 
 mother." 
 
 She clasped her hands. The tears dropped 
 slowly down. 
 
 " I knew well . . . how you would grieve." 
 
 " But I do not grieve at all. I have been 
 such a miserable wretch that now I cannot even 
 grieve. Do you not see how I amuse myself every 
 day?" 
 
 She felt very uncomfortable. It was so dif- 
 ferent from what she had expected. Evidently 
 he would not talk with her about his mother. Was 
 it sacrilege for her to have mentioned her name?
 
 248 SANPRIEL 
 
 She forced herself to speak in another tone, 
 careless and indifferent like his own. 
 
 " You are indeed fortunate in being able to take 
 such pleasure in everything. They are all so glad 
 that you have come, for you are always so enter- 
 taining." 
 
 " Humph ! I have gotten a reputation for 
 that. If once a man says anything to make peo- 
 ple laugh, then forever after they think him amus- 
 ing. . . . People generally laugh at anything that 
 amuses them 
 
 " Well, how does the company here suit you 
 this year? There is our little Principal. Do you 
 not think his new rank becoming to him?" 
 
 She did not answer. This light way of speak- 
 ing pained her. He seemed to avoid her silent, 
 inquiring glance. 
 
 " Is not your wife here this year? " 
 
 " My wife? " He looked up sharply. " No, 
 God had mercy upon her and gave her another 
 husband. . . . And you need not pity me! What 
 one loses here on earth one will find again on the 
 moon." 
 
 A tremor passed through her, but she controlled 
 herself. 
 
 Without knowing what she was doing, she 
 picked up the book he had been reading. 
 
 ' You see, I am studying Dante. Melancholia 
 will be punished in hell, he says. We run no risk
 
 SANPRIEL 249 
 
 on that score, up here in our land of Goshen. We 
 sit here in our bowers, feasting and drinking, and 
 getting off foolish witticisms about Egyptian cas- 
 serolls and such things. You know how it is. 
 But how are you these days, anyway? I did not 
 think you would come here again." 
 
 " Nor did I expect to come, either," she said 
 unsteadily, " but they thought that Dyveke " 
 
 " Oh, I understand. ... It is for Dyveke's 
 sake. I hope you will be rewarded for your good- 
 ness and will live to derive some comfort from 
 your sacrifice." 
 
 She looked at him astonished. 
 
 " I consider it a pleasure to do what she asks." 
 
 And she began to talk about Dyveke. It was 
 a relief to find something else to talk about. 
 
 "Have you seen her?" she asked finally. 
 " She is well now, entirely so. But I am so afraid 
 that she will not escape." 
 
 " Yes, I have noticed her. She is a rare blos- 
 som, of the sort to which God gives color and 
 beauty, only to be plucked by Death. Let her en- 
 joy herself." 
 
 She rose. There was something else, entirely 
 different, that burned in her heart to say, but'she 
 could not get it out. She merely said something 
 more about Dyveke, as if that were the only thing 
 of importance to her.
 
 250 SANPRIEL 
 
 " Her childhood was very sad. This is the 
 first chance she has had for enjoyment." 
 
 " If only it is not all over too soon. People 
 always get everything too late. That has been 
 the way with me. I have only recently gotten my 
 understanding and so it was with Father 
 Adam." 
 
 She had never heard that story. 
 
 " Yes, when he lay at the point of death he sent 
 his son Seth back to the closed Paradise for a bit 
 of the oil of divine mercy to relieve his last agony. 
 The angel on guard would not let Seth in, but 
 he gave him a sprig from one of the trees in Para- 
 dise. He was to plant this on Adam's grave, and 
 when the tree bore fruit then would Adam get that 
 for which he had prayed. . . . 
 
 " But you have risen. You are impatient to 
 get back to your little child. She is standing down 
 there waiting for you. I hope the pretty young 
 lady will be gracious and not get angry with me 
 for having kept you." 
 
 ' Would you like that I should bring her down 
 here some time? We should be glad to come." 
 
 " Madame, there are limits to my desires. 
 ' Die Sterne die begehrt man nicht, man freut sich 
 ihrer Pracht.' " 
 
 She merely answered with a smile, then said 
 good-by and left.
 
 SANPRIEL 251 
 
 But as she came down the path into the garden 
 a burning blush rose to her cheek. 
 
 That little device about Dyveke, for it was a 
 device she had thought to approach him with 
 the help of Dyveke he had understood . . . 
 and had repelled her. 
 
 It seemed as if she could not get air. Something 
 seemed to rise up from her heart and choke her. 
 She made a great effort to control herself, so as 
 to go on her way calmly. 
 
 Suddenly she stopped and looked around. He 
 had said that Dyveke stood there waiting for her; 
 but she was not there; she was nowhere to be seen. 
 
 At last she understood. It was merely a cold, 
 polite way of turning her away from himself 
 to Dyveke. It occurred to her now that perhaps 
 it was her own fault. She had said that it was on 
 Dyveke's account that she had come here, and 
 afterward she talked only of Dyveke. She 
 had plainly bored him with Dyveke. 
 
 And how entirely different from what she had 
 meant. How she would have liked to tell him 
 that if she had dared she would have come for his 
 sake only 
 
 How could she tell him that? 
 
 She laughed. For why should he know it? He 
 cared nothing about it. So often she had to laugh 
 at herself. She thought her laugh had grown so 
 strange and mirthless.
 
 252 SANPRIEL 
 
 She went up to her room and sat down to work. 
 It was a dress for Dyveke that she had not been 
 able to get through with. She dropped her sew- 
 ing. Nor could she ever get through with her- 
 self. 
 
 Now, just as it seemed so well understood that 
 all was ended and a thing of the past here once 
 more everything was changed worse than be- 
 fore. There had come a new obstacle between 
 them, one that had never been there before. 
 
 She picked up her work and began to sew with 
 feverish haste. She asked herself: which was the 
 most bitter of all the bitter experiences she had 
 undergone? Perhaps this, almost she herself 
 did not know why it seemed to fall so heavily 
 upon her. 
 
 She had begun to weep, but hurriedly dried her 
 tears. Dyveke always became so distressed when 
 she discovered that she had been weeping. 
 Dyveke's love for her was indeed a gift from 
 Heaven. She ought to be happy over it. It 
 ought to be enough. 
 
 Dyveke came in. She understood and snug- 
 gled close up to her. 
 
 " Dear little Mother! Can you not see how 
 blue the heavens are? Is it my fault?" 
 
 Fru Thammers smiled and caressingly laid her 
 head against hers.
 
 SANPRIEL 253 
 
 " Little girl, you are indeed my comfort. How 
 cool and refreshing your hands are ! " 
 
 " We'll go out and see how blue the sky is. 
 For it is really overpoweringly blue." 
 
 And Dyveke insisted. She was such a wonder- 
 ful mixture of tears and laughter. No one could 
 withstand her. They two must go for a walk 
 a long, inconceivably beautiful walk.
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 AUGUST was far advanced. 
 Some had already gone, many others had 
 begun to think about going. Among the latter 
 was Fru Thammers. 
 
 Everyone congratulated her for what the sum- 
 mer had done for Dyveke, who had come to look 
 so much stronger. Yes, of course she was happy. 
 But in her heart she longed to get away. Never 
 had a summer seemed so painfully long. 
 
 When Dyveke came in with beaming face and 
 asked: " Are not people kind here, are they not 
 altogether angels?" she had to answer, "Yes." 
 For they all were kind even Samuel Stern. He 
 was so kind as almost to drive one to desperation. 
 Toward her and Dyveke he displayed the same 
 kindly interest that he showed toward the Dean's 
 wife, Baroness Crone, Fru Iversen, and all the 
 others. They were all more than charmed with 
 him, and Dyveke not the least. 
 
 But she no longer saw him alone. 
 
 She had begun to take her walks down across 
 the meadows and toward the Falls. There she 
 met the others, but never him. 
 
 All those chance circumstances which before 
 254
 
 SANPRIEL 255 
 
 had brought them together happened no longer. 
 Now they seemed to be only of the kind that kept 
 them apart. 
 
 Several times she resolved that she would go 
 to him and talk with him, alone; but some chance 
 circumstance always prevented. Could he read 
 it in her eye, when she was thinking of such a 
 thing? For he was so clever and knew so well 
 how to defend himself. 
 
 So she gave it up. They met every day in com- 
 pany with the others. 
 
 Dyveke was happy whenever they had an oppor- 
 tunity for a chat with him. She had an idea that 
 it was good for her little mother, since she was, 
 as it were, forced to be lively, and at times actually 
 grew facetious. 
 
 Dyveke enjoyed this, since the little mother 
 seemed the better for it. So she always tried to 
 bring them together. She was concerned because 
 her little mother had begun again to be troubled 
 with sleepless nights. 
 
 One morning she came rushing in as was her 
 wont. 
 
 " You must have dreamed something good last 
 night! It is shining in your eyes. Do you know, 
 morning dreams are true! Oh, you are still so 
 beautifully sleepy! I will go " 
 
 And she was off. Fru Thammers lay back 
 again on her pillow and slept.
 
 256 SANPRIEL 
 
 She had been awake the whole night and had 
 sat by the window. She had seen him coming at 
 last, just before dawn. She had hidden herself, 
 for he came straight past her window. She saw 
 him so plainly. He had been weeping. 
 
 Then she had sunk down on her knees and 
 prayed that there might be some one found here 
 on earth who could help him. 
 
 After that she had grown calm and had gone 
 to bed. 
 
 One evening Dyveke came in as she always did 
 to say good-night; not in her usual way however, 
 but very quietly. 
 
 Fru Thammers turned. " Dear child, what 
 have you done with your wings? " 
 
 Then she saw how white and trembling she 
 was. She grew anxious. 
 
 "What is it?" 
 
 Dyveke threw her arms about her neck. 
 
 " I am just so terribly happy ! I am engaged ! " 
 
 Fru Thammers held her from her. 
 
 " You must not scare me," she said seriously. 
 
 " Little Mother, I will never do that. I am 
 just telling you that I am engaged. Henry Crone 
 and I love one another. Now he is going to the 
 School of Forestry . . . for he thinks it would 
 be a good thing for us to wait a while, he says. 
 . . . Oh, how I wish that I was past twenty ! "
 
 SANPRIEL 257 
 
 It came out so softly. Fru Thammers under- 
 stood, but took no notice of it. 
 
 She smoothed her bright hair. " You will soon 
 be that," she said quietly. " Time passes so 
 quickly." 
 
 Fru Thammers did not sleep that night. The 
 first thing in the morning she decided she would 
 go and see Baroness Crone. But that was un- 
 necessary, for shortly afterward the Baroness came 
 to see her. 
 
 Henry Crone's mother was a small, delicate, 
 sympathetic figure, with a pale, sweet face. 
 
 Fru Thammers had often wanted to talk inti- 
 mately with her, but there had never been any 
 occasion. Now it had come. And Fru Crone 
 told how she had often had the same desire with 
 regard to Fru Thammers, and now she was glad 
 that it was she with whom she had to talk over 
 this difficult matter. 
 
 Fru Crone was much moved and told, through 
 her tears, how Henry had come to her the even- 
 ing before and told her all about it. 
 
 At first she had not believed it. Then he had 
 grown angry, and when she had reminded him 
 how foolish it was for him to think of such a 
 thing, he had left her and gone up to his room. 
 She had heard him walking up and down the whole 
 night. She had gone up to him just before she
 
 258 SANPRIEL 
 
 came here, but he had locked his door and would 
 not let her in. She did not know whether or not 
 Fru Thammers had heard how weak he was. 
 The physicians had given them little hope. He 
 had been obliged to give up his books, and must 
 take everything quietly and amuse himself and 
 above all there must be no mental excitement. So 
 his uncle had decided to try the air up here. But 
 here had come this mental excitement. 
 
 Fru Thammers quieted her. She had seen her 
 son early that morning as he came back from a 
 walk. But now she must tell her about Dyveke, 
 for with her the situation was just as bad. 
 
 Again tears came to Fru Crone's eyes. She 
 had indeed heard a little about it but now she 
 was so radiantly healthy She could easily un- 
 derstand how Henry felt. She herself was in love 
 with Dyveke. 
 
 And Henry had improved so much up here, it 
 was almost incredible. She had written to his 
 physician about it and it was difficult for him to 
 believe it. But Henry said it was Dyveke who 
 had driven death away from him. She had ex- 
 plained to him with much care that it wasn't al- 
 ways necessary to believe the physician. 
 
 Now he wants to go to the School of Forestry 
 in the fall. Then he will take charge of an es- 
 tate, become a real countryman and work out-of- 
 doors the entire day. Dyveke has told him he
 
 SANPRIEL 259 
 
 ought to do that and he has a great desire to do 
 so. 
 
 Fru Crone rose. She would leave the matter 
 in Fru Thammers' hands, but she had to tell her 
 just how it was. She did not dare to go against 
 Henry's wishes, for that would indeed be the 
 surest way of losing him. 
 
 Fru Thammers smiled sorrowfully. " I see 
 no other way than to let them be happy in one 
 another and to trust that happiness will be good 
 for them." 
 
 She quietly persuaded Fru Crone to be seated 
 again, for she was still all of a tremble. 
 
 Then Fru Crone had to tell how it was when 
 they saw one another for the first time. They 
 had stood as if transfixed, staring at one another, 
 like Dante and Beatrice. And how beautiful they 
 both were the North and the South met to- 
 gether she so dazzlingly fair, and he yes, 
 was he not wonderful also, her Henry in his green 
 Tyrolese costume, with his black eyes and curly 
 black hair? 
 
 Suddenly Dyveke stood before them. 
 
 " Are you two sitting here talking it over and 
 making it up that we are not to be engaged? " she 
 interrupted violently. 
 
 "Is it " She stopped and stared at them 
 with big, frightened eyes. 
 
 " Why can we not be engaged? Is it ," she
 
 26o SANPRIEL 
 
 whispered with voice half-choked, u Is it because 
 everything will soon be over for me? Can 
 you not see how strong I am? " 
 
 She did not weep, but seemed to shrink together 
 and grew deathly pale. 
 
 Fru Crone hurried over and took her in her 
 arms. She pulled her down on her lap and whis- 
 pered to her. 
 
 Fru Thammers followed them anxiously with 
 her eyes. 
 
 Suddenly Dyveke regained her buoyancy. The 
 blood again filled the veins beneath the transparent 
 skin. Her entire face grew rosy red. 
 
 Then she came rushing over, and with arms 
 around her neck, half laughing, half sobbing, she 
 whispered: " I'll be right back . . . now I must 
 go along with her and tell Henry he must open 
 the door for his mother. ... I have permission 
 to do so ... You may just believe that we will 
 rattle the door! Oh, no one knows how strong 
 I ami" 
 
 But that no one was to know anything about the 
 affair was perhaps the most amusing thing of all 
 to Dyveke. 
 
 Later in the day the two mothers had another 
 consultation. The severe winter was not good for 
 Dyveke, so it was decided that Fru Crone should 
 take her down home with her. Henry would be
 
 SANPRIEL 261 
 
 away at the School of Forestry and she would have 
 need of just such a little daughter. She lived on 
 her estate in South Tyrol, a beautiful old place, 
 warm and full of sunshine and romance just the 
 thing for Dyveke. 
 
 So it was decided that Fru Thammers and 
 Dyveke should leave the next day. They would 
 go to Christiania for a week so that Dyveke could 
 be fitted out for the journey. Then the Baroness 
 and Henry would come and take her with them. 
 
 Dyveke was wild with joy and excitement. 
 There was everything to be packed and all the 
 good-bys to be said. Everyone thought it strange 
 that she should be so glad to go so soon. 
 
 Fru Thammers grew nervous and strangely un- 
 easy. She had not seen Samuel Stern the entire 
 day. He had gone off on a trip and they did not 
 know when he would be back. 
 
 At the supper table she inquired for him again. 
 Yes, he had returned. But it was impossible to 
 get a word with him alone. They were all around 
 him together. 
 
 When she came over he looked up with an air 
 of surprise and smiled. 
 
 " So you are going to leave us so soon? Have 
 you stopped to think how stupid it will be for the 
 rest of us? " 
 
 Fru Thammers also smiled. 
 
 " No, for Dyveke and I are not at all what we
 
 262 SANPRIEL 
 
 ought to be. It will just be a pleasure to think 
 that it is our absence that makes it stupid for 
 you." 
 
 Dyveke nodded and laughed. She stood be- 
 side Henry, unusually silent and blushing. Radi- 
 ance seemed to stream from her. 
 , Then came the carriage. 
 
 Fru Thammers turned once more to Samuel 
 Stern and reached out her hand. 
 
 " We have said good-by so often, it seems to 
 me. This time it is certainly the last." 
 
 " That may be. I am not coming here any 
 more. I have sold my hunting lodge. The lit- 
 tle house, which I have bought, is to be torn down. 
 No one shall live there again. Yes, the Dean's 
 wife is right it is a fancy. One has fancies. 
 . . . Farewell, Fru Thammers." 
 
 He bowed reverently and remained standing, 
 hat in hand. 
 
 At last Dyveke also got into the carriage and 
 they started off. 
 
 They were all out on the lawn waving their 
 handkerchiefs. The young people gave their yell 
 with great feeling. 
 
 Dyveke stood upright with face turned toward 
 them. The driver had to go slowly. 
 
 She nodded and beckoned with glance and smile, 
 with hands and arms. She blew a kiss from the 
 tips of her fingers, time and time again.
 
 SANPRIEL 263 
 
 It was a sight to see her. She stood there like 
 a young goddess of victory. 
 
 All the men, both young and old, broke into a 
 cheer. 
 
 Then for a moment she grew shy and hid her 
 face in her hands. But when the carriage turned 
 again she blew them another kiss. 
 
 Each one thought that he had a share in this 
 demonstration. 
 
 There was just one who took it all to himself, 
 as he stood there with his dark eyes shining. 
 
 Fru Iversen was sorry for the young baron. 
 He took it all so nicely. Of course he would soon 
 be over it.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THOSE days at Christiania had been very full. 
 Not until now had Fru Thammers had time 
 to reflect that she was again to be left alone. 
 
 It was evening. She had returned to the hotel 
 after accompanying Dyveke to the railway station, 
 where Fru Crone had received her like a mother. 
 
 She knew that she could rest easy so far as 
 Dyveke was concerned, yet she felt that now she 
 was lost to her. 
 
 Dyveke had wept, but had rejoiced more, for 
 now she was going out to see the world. But 
 she had made her little mother promise that when 
 spring came she would come down and fetch her 
 back. And Fru Crone had said that it was the 
 only way she could get her back, because there was 
 no one else to whom she would trust her. 
 
 Dyveke had already asked if they couldn't go 
 to Forest Home again. Henry would be with 
 them of course 
 
 She sat staring out into the heavy gray at- 
 mosphere. 
 
 Until spring! Perhaps they would both be 
 dead by that time. It seemed to her that she 
 
 would never see her again 
 
 264
 
 SANPRIEL 265 
 
 She looked around. Here lay a book which 
 had been forgotten . . . there a waist which she 
 had just taken off, and which she did not care 
 to take with her and there she had forgotten 
 a handkerchief. 
 
 She gathered them all up and held them close 
 in her arms. There was something of Dyveke 
 about them, a fresh, youthful odor. 
 
 Then she put them in her trunk and set about 
 straightening things up. Now indeed she must 
 begin to think what she should do with herself. 
 But she avoided the question. There was so much 
 to do getting things straightened up. 
 
 She seemed to hear a voice from the corner 
 saying: " Of course you will go home to Bergen 
 what else could you do? " 
 
 But she evaded it she would not answer. 
 
 She had to write a note to Dyveke which was 
 to reach her at Copenhagen, and one which was 
 to be waiting for her in her room when she ar- 
 rived at Berlin. She had to go down- and mail 
 them. Then she went on for a little walk. 
 
 She went as far as the park where she sat down 
 on a bench. 
 
 People were passing by. Some stopped for an 
 instant and stared at her. Why did they do this? 
 
 Then it came over her, how alone she 
 
 was alone on earth! 
 
 Yes, of course she would find work. There
 
 266 SANPRIEL 
 
 was no question about it. There was indeed so 
 much to be done. She would go to Madame 
 Harder. She would help her. 
 
 She looked about. Here she had played as a 
 child. Close by was her childhood's home, but 
 she did not want to see it. All was so unspeakably 
 empty. Those who had loved her were gone. 
 
 She rose and went on. 
 
 There was the bench where she had sat once 
 with Samuel Stern . . . that time when they were 
 happy. She wondered if it were the same bench. 
 
 She took a side path so as not to go past it. 
 
 And over on that avenue she had walked that 
 evening . . . when she was no longer happy 
 . . . when she had just come back from him 
 . . . when everything about her had gone to 
 pieces. . . . 
 
 And the next morning early she had gone to 
 Bergen . . . for she had been in great haste to 
 get away. Yes, it was she who had done it all. 
 She had brought her fate upon herself. 
 
 All that lay between that evening and the pres- 
 ent time it bore down upon her like an endless 
 burden. 
 
 It was growing very cold and disagreeable. 
 She would go back to the hotel. To-morrow she 
 would pack, for she could not stay here. She had 
 already been here two weeks. 
 
 As she turned a corner she was roused by the
 
 SANPRIEL 267 
 
 sound of Fru Iversen's voice. She had met the 
 wife of the wholesale-dealer Iversen. 
 
 'Well, isn't this interesting! Yes, we arc all 
 gone now. You know, Marit Hennerud is still 
 up there with the live stock, fattening them up a 
 little. And Merchant Stern is there. He is such 
 a horrid hunter yes, just think of those dear 
 little animals, and then there is an English family, 
 Lady Hammond, with her lord and three chil- 
 dren, and their servants. They fish all together 
 for days at a time heavens, it is even 
 worse " 
 
 Fru Thammers drew down her veil and passed 
 on. 
 
 When she reached the hotel she found it was 
 late. 
 
 She went to her room. It was so oppressively 
 lonesome. She would hurry and get to bed. She 
 would not think of what she was going to do. She 
 would decide in the morning 
 
 Again there came the voice which said, 
 
 of course she must go back to Bergen. Indeed 
 that was her home. She would always find some- 
 thing there to keep herself busy. 
 
 She would not listen, for she had said that she 
 would not think about it. She felt utterly ex- 
 hausted. It was a good thing, for now she would 
 go right to sleep. 
 
 Samuel Stern's mother came into her mind. Al-
 
 268 SANPRIEL 
 
 though she had never seen her, she had always 
 been as it were, in the background of her life. 
 
 How she wished now that she had seen her! 
 If she had gone to her instead of flying off as she 
 did how different all might have been. 
 
 She was just on the point of dropping to sleep, 
 but her thoughts would not let go. She wanted 
 to ask her forgiveness, but she could not find her. 
 
 But afterward when she was asleep, Samuel's 
 mother came. Her face was beaming and her 
 voice gentle. She spoke only these words: " It 
 is I who send you." 
 
 When Thora Thammers awoke in the morning 
 she knew what she was going to do. An unusual 
 sense of peace had come to her. She dressed 
 very slowly. She felt that she must do everything 
 slowly in order that she might better collect her 
 thoughts. 
 
 She would remain here another day. There 
 was no hurry. It would only become more cer- 
 tain with each day that now she would see him. 
 
 She went for a walk again in the park and went 
 through all the old paths. She could do it now. 
 
 The sky was overcast, but the sun broke through 
 occasionally. What a blessed thing it was to see 
 the sun again! She began to look for the sunny 
 spots so as to feel the sun's rays. 
 
 Suddenly she stopped. The thought struck her : 
 what else had she been doing her entire life?
 
 SANPRIEL 269 
 
 She supported herself against a tree. 
 
 A sudden calm took possession of her She 
 
 would do so no longer. She had deserved noth- 
 ing . . . and her day of life was long past. She 
 would be thankful if there were still one ray to be 
 found for her. 
 
 She decided to wait a few days longer before 
 leaving. 
 
 Marit Hennerud thought it exceedingly odd 
 that Fru Thammers should come up to Forest 
 Home again. 
 
 It was a bright autumn afternoon. There was 
 no one to be seen except Sjur, whose face showed 
 great delight as he caught sight of Fru Thammers. 
 
 The English family had gone up into the forest 
 fishing and would not be back for a week. Mer- 
 chant Stern was out hunting and was not expected 
 very soon either. Marit Hennerud didn't know 
 how she could entertain her. 
 
 Fru Thammers smiled. " Don't trouble your- 
 self at all, but just let me take care of myself." 
 
 She was glad they were all away. It was just 
 what she wanted. 
 
 The first day she went up on Flyen with Sjur. 
 She had brought some books and pictures for him. 
 Tears of joy came into Sjur's eyes. The little 
 freckled face shone.
 
 270 SANPRIEL 
 
 " And isn't it wonderful that you'd think of me ! 
 And so wonderfully fine and nice they are, too! " 
 
 Fru Thammers did not come down from Flyen 
 that afternoon. She had to follow Sjur around 
 with his pictures and make him acquainted with 
 his new sources of wisdom. 
 
 Those warm, bright autumn days how 
 quietly and quickly they passed ! She was not im- 
 patient. It did her good to wait. She felt that 
 those days were making her over and giving her 
 strength to bear what was yet to come. 
 
 One morning Turi came up with her breakfast, 
 wearing a mysterious face. 
 
 Yes, now the lady would no longer be alone. 
 For the English people had come back at last, and 
 Merchant Stern was with them. 
 
 Fru Thammers smiled and thanked her for the 
 good news. 
 
 In front of one of her windows stood an old 
 ash which had begun to shed its leaves. Through 
 its branches she could look down on the little red 
 cottage which belonged to Samuel Stern. 
 
 When Turi had gone she went over and opened 
 the window. She saw him down on the little 
 porch where he was taking his breakfast. After- 
 ward he came out with his cigar and a book, and 
 sat down on Fru Gyllenskjold's bench. 
 
 An hour later she went down.
 
 SANPRIEL 271 
 
 He did not look surprised when she appeared. 
 He knew that she was there. 
 
 4 You have done well," he said, smiling, " in 
 coming back again. Autumn is the best time of 
 all." 
 
 She looked him frankly in the eye. 
 
 " Samuel Stern, it is not my fault that I have 
 come here again. I could not do otherwise. It 
 is on your account that I have come. I know that 
 you are not happy. You must not go around here 
 alone. You must have some companionship. 
 And now I shall not allow myself to be put aside. 
 I have a right to be here your mother has 
 given me permission." 
 
 He looked up, surprised at her new attitude. 
 Then he laughed. 
 
 " You say that I am unhappy. ... I am very 
 glad if that is the case. I would not have it other- 
 wise. 
 
 " But it will be too tiresome for you here. The 
 English people fish as if their salvation depended 
 upon it. When it rains you can have the pleas- 
 ure of seeing My Lady go off in her great rubber 
 boots . . . Also, you may occasionally have the 
 exquisite pleasure of seeing me. ... I should 
 like to see myself, as I go wandering about here." 
 
 He looked up. His eyes were heavy. 
 
 " I think you had better go. I don't like any- 
 one to see me as I am to-day."
 
 2 7 2 SANPRIEL 
 
 She smiled sadly. 
 
 " You should not be so utterly scornful of a few 
 words with me. I am not as I once was. I have 
 walked so long with my sorrow that it has led me 
 in where everyone finds something for himself 
 something new which becomes his own. There 
 I have learned to understand you better." 
 
 " Then perhaps you can tell me why one never 
 can enjoy a blessing before he has lost it and no 
 longer has the chance to enjoy it. ... When one 
 has it one does not enjoy it because he has it. I 
 wonder if that is not the great curse on the human 
 race, which of old was pronounced upon the earth, 
 that one should never possess what he does 
 possess." 
 
 She wanted to say something, but could not. 
 They both sat there in silence. 
 
 Then he turned hastily toward her. 
 
 " You must not trouble yourself about me. 
 After all, I am happy and light of heart, for now 
 nothing more can happen to me. Now that the 
 worst has happened, I don't care a rap about the 
 rest." 
 
 He rose, brushed the ashes from his cigar, then 
 laid it down again. 
 
 " Yes, I am quite happy and light-hearted, now 
 that there is nothing more for which I long. 
 There is certainly no pleasure in that deep and 
 painful longing which is always mingled with re-
 
 SANPRIEL 273 
 
 gret that one never accomplishes what one wants 
 to. When all that is gone, one is no longer con- 
 scious of " 
 
 Thora Thammers rose also. 
 
 " I wish you would go for a walk with me." 
 
 " Why? So that you can comfort me ? I have 
 just confessed to you that I do not need it. I 
 have such a strangely post-festive nature. There 
 is always so much that I forget to say. Where 
 do you wish to go ? " 
 
 He went inside and then came back again. 
 
 " I am not grieving, for I do not think it is true. 
 It annoys me when people come and talk about it. 
 Where do you wish to go? " 
 
 " Can we not go to the Falls? There is no one 
 there now 
 
 " I have always enjoyed looking at the Falls," 
 she continued for it seemed best to talk about 
 something else. " There is a certain satisfaction 
 in watching the water plunge down and then away, 
 for it seems to take with it something of that which 
 overwhelms and crushes one." 
 
 " Humph, no ! We will not go to the Falls. 
 All that which goes and goes and does not come 
 again, I cannot endure it. I want things to re- 
 turn. I want my mother to come back again as 
 she always did before, when she had been away 
 anywhere Well, I suppose we'd better go 
 somewhere."
 
 274 SANPRIEL 
 
 He took up his hat. " But if you like the 
 Falls, in Heaven's name let us go to the Falls." 
 
 They started down the slope. He began to talk 
 about indifferent matters made fun of the Eng- 
 lish people, every now and then however, unex- 
 pectedly interrupting himself with the thoughts 
 that filled his mind. 
 
 He stopped. 
 
 " Now she has begun to come back to me. 
 When I am wandering about at night, if I am in 
 the right mood, then some one comes and walks 
 by my side. Before this I used to imagine it was 
 another who came and greeted me so graciously 
 and said : ' Now I am coming back to you again.' 
 But now, since my mother left me, it is she who 
 comes. When all is quiet and no human being is 
 near, then she comes and calls me with her loving 
 voice, that unforgettable voice. And she comes 
 and walks silently by my side." 
 
 He turned toward her. 
 
 " I know what you are thinking. Yes, your 
 face expresses just what you would say: 'But 
 your mother was old, so you must have expected 
 this.' Froken Marit said something like that the 
 other day. She thought she was saying some- 
 thing comforting. ' Yes,' I answered, ' you are 
 quite right. It was of course just what I had been 
 expecting.' '
 
 SANPRIEL 275 
 
 His tone wounded her. They went on down 
 the slope. 
 
 She remained silent. She thought it was better 
 for him to go on and express his feelings without 
 any words from her. 
 
 " I cannot bear the emptiness of her rooms there 
 at home and mine are the same way although 
 she was seldom in them. It has seemed to me that 
 she was away on a journey. But now I can en- 
 dure it no longer, now she certainly must come 
 home again For you see, it was just as cer- 
 tain as that day follows .night, that whenever I 
 came home, there I would find Mother sitting in 
 her chair. I could go to her and renew my 
 strength. 
 
 " I keep on saying: ' My mother thinks this,' 
 and * Mother always says that.' I pretend that 
 she still lives. I cannot have it otherwise. . . . 
 
 " In the past it often happened that I did things 
 that I knew she did not like. Now that she is no 
 longer here, I have a burning desire to do every- 
 thing as I think she would have me do it." 
 
 He turned sharply toward her. ' What do 
 you think about all this? 
 
 " And I am stricken with remorse that I was 
 not with her at the time. . . . For the thought 
 that she would not have come had it been I who 
 lay there, is inconceivable. 
 
 " I was abroad at the time. I thought: * Of
 
 276 SANPRIEL 
 
 course Mother will soon be all right again.' . . . 
 Then came a few days when I deliberately put my 
 mind on other matters for I could not bear to 
 think of Mother being ill. It is dreadful that 
 one should be so 
 
 " I have really been quite beside myself. . . . 
 I can remember wondering how it could be pos- 
 sible for Mother to die. She must of course die 
 some time but how it could come about I could 
 not comprehend, for she was stronger than any- 
 one I knew. That which the rest of us were 
 afraid of and pushed from us, she was able to 
 endure. We did not know that it was because 
 she had such boundless courage and will to bear 
 all burdens. I understood her so poorly. Not 
 until she was gone did I realize how tired she 
 must have been, after this long life of bearing the 
 burdens of others. 
 
 " I was so accustomed, when things were at 
 their worst, to go to Mother. She gave me 
 strength to live again. I always found her there. 
 I believe I must have thought that when death 
 itself should sometime come to me, she would be 
 there to ward off the blow 
 
 " I am consumed with remorse that I should 
 have been so close to her, and yet I did not see 
 that she was tired. ... I did not understand 
 that her evening had come . . . and that she 
 needed rest."
 
 SANPRIEL 277 
 
 Thora Thammers turned toward him. 
 
 ; ' What are you looking for? " she asked softly. 
 
 " Oh, just for some flowers that used to grow 
 here, but there are none now." 
 
 " It is not the season for them," she said 
 gently. 
 
 " No, it certainly is not the leaves are fall- 
 ing." 
 
 As they walked they both watched the leaves 
 which were falling down about them. 
 
 " Never again ! Past and gone ! Those 
 words seem to inclose something that is eternally 
 sealed, forever incomprehensible to the human 
 heart. And sorrow and death one has no con- 
 ception what they are. One may indeed think 
 he knows, but he never does until they come to 
 him 
 
 " It is well, I think, that there is no one to 
 grieve for me ... no one left who belongs to 
 me. Yes, when one becomes acquainted with 
 sorrow and learns how it rises with the sun fresh 
 and new every morning, and does not diminish 
 with the day . . . when one knows the grip it 
 takes on one's nerves, then it is well, if one can 
 save anyone else from " 
 
 He bent down. 
 
 " See, I have found one anyway ... It is 
 Mother's favorite flower. It blossoms anew
 
 278 SANPRIEL 
 
 among the falling leaves, like these last days of 
 sunshine which come as unexpected gifts." 
 
 She smiled at him. " Be sure you accept 
 them." 
 
 11 Just now I recall a sunny day, but it was in 
 early summer one of my first recollections 
 my grandmother's funeral. A bell was tolling 
 and there were quantities of white lilies. The 
 deep notes of the bell and the heavy odor of the 
 flowers produced a strange impression upon me. 
 
 " I did not understand it. I had never seen 
 death before and I knew nothing about it. But 
 the fragrance, the flowers, the heavy tones of the 
 bell, and all the solemn, black-robed people filled 
 me with vague apprehension. 
 
 " They gave me cake to eat. It was maca- 
 roons, and I ate with the feeling that there was 
 something weirdly mysterious surrounding me. 
 
 " Later, of course, I forgot it, got away from 
 it. Yet I never afterward thought of death ex- 
 cept as of something far removed from myself 
 an empty spectacle which signified nothing. 
 
 " I dreamed about Mother last night. I 
 thought I was a little child again, and I was run- 
 ning about calling for her. She heard me and 
 came, and said so softly: ' Can you not let me 
 rest now, my child, my little silken lamb? ' she 
 called me that when I was small. And I an- 
 swered as I usually did when I was little : ' Yes,
 
 SANPRIEL 279 
 
 I know that I am your silken lamb, but you arc 
 also my little lamb.' 
 
 " And I held her fast in my arms. I would not 
 let her go again. She said to me : * You see, 
 now I shall come to you almost every night. We 
 were together so little before, you remember. It 
 was very hard for me to send you out into the 
 world so early, but now I can come to you. 
 Whenever you are in trouble you may know that 
 
 I will come ' It is pleasant to delude oneself 
 
 with such dreams. . . . See that dragonfly sitting 
 there in the sunshine. It does not move there 
 is but the slightest quiver to its wings. It is at 
 peace. One ought to learn from it how to make 
 better use of the sunshine." 
 
 " One ought to indeed." She looked at her 
 watch. " It is later than I thought. We must 
 turn back. But see, how beautiful it is yonder! 
 There above the heather!" 
 
 He laughed. " Your heart surely does not 
 know what beauty is, for that is nothing but a 
 mirage." 
 
 "Is it?" She looked as though she did not 
 want to believe it. She sighed softly and stood 
 there silently with bowed head. 
 
 " But we must go. Lady Hammond will be 
 sitting at the chess-board waiting for you," she 
 added gayly. " She is bored with her lord and 
 you promised her yesterday to be there."
 
 280 SANPRIEL 
 
 " You are right. One has duties. And you ! 
 You go about grieving for your husband and long- 
 ing for your little children, and now you have be- 
 gun to look after those who are lost. You must 
 not overdo." 
 
 His voice had again taken on that strangely 
 distant tone. She looked quickly up at him. 
 
 In silence they walked homeward. 
 
 She was thinking as she walked, of what he 
 had said. How his mother must have loved him 
 such a deep impression she had made upon his 
 soul! 
 
 Never as now had she had such a humiliating 
 sense of the immeasurable distance between such 
 a mother's silent, self-forgetful love, and that 
 which she once had felt for him.
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 SEVERAL days had passed. 
 Lady Hammond was in raptures over her 
 fellow guests. Now it was really quite pleasant 
 here. There was just one thing at fault, and that 
 was that neither the Norwegian lady nor the Nor- 
 wegian lord could be persuaded to go fishing with 
 them. 
 
 One afternoon the whole family went off down 
 the river. The weather was good again and 
 Thora Thammers went up on Flyen. She wan- 
 dered about for a time, then it occurred to her 
 that she would go over to the place where Samuel 
 Stern had sat with his mother. 
 
 As she came around to the huge bowlder that 
 lay just opposite, she saw him there. His face 
 .was brighter than was usual these days when he 
 sat alone. 
 
 She turned to go away, but he smiled at her. 
 
 " Won't you come over and sit here for awhile? 
 I have scarcely seen you for a long time." 
 
 So she went on. 
 
 They began to talk of the everyday happenings 
 up there. 
 
 He told about the English people, and about 
 281
 
 282 SANPRIEL 
 
 Marit Hennerud, who would not allow herself 
 to be engaged. One of the unhappy swains who 
 had been waiting for her had recently been up 
 there. He was one of the most desirable matches 
 in the district, but she would not even shake hands 
 with him, so his prospects were not of the bright- 
 est. 
 
 Thora Thammers grew quite gay. " No, she 
 never believes it is the right one who has come. 
 The family is quite vexed about it." 
 
 But suddenly there was nothing more to talk 
 about. 
 
 The heather looked so fresh after the rain, 
 which also had brought out the pungent odor of 
 the dwarf birch. Mingled with this was the 
 sweet, wild fragrance of the myrica. The air was 
 soft and mild, and above were the vast slopes 
 wrapped in a bluish haze. 
 
 They both sat there looking up at the white 
 mountain. 
 
 Then he turned around toward her. 
 
 " I dreamed so much last night." 
 
 " Tell me about it," she said softly. 
 
 " I thought I had just gotten home. I sat be- 
 side Mother's bed and read to her about Moses 
 and the Promised Land. Then the Lord himself 
 came and said to her: ' See, now I will give you 
 the land. It is yours. I will surround you with 
 splendor and you shall rule over all that your soul
 
 SANPRIEL 283 
 
 desires.' . . . And I thought she smiled at me. 
 I felt her failing glance. 
 
 " I slept on, heavily. I was going about 
 searching for something. I could not understand 
 what had become of her. An angel came and I 
 said : ' Tell me, you who soar on high, did you 
 see my mother? Tell me if you saw her up there 
 in that land of hers, surrounded by all her splen- 
 dor. You surely can lighten this bitterness which 
 fills me at the thought that she no longer lives, 
 that I shall never see her again.' 
 
 " The angel took me by the hand, and then I 
 found her. She was sitting in her chair and was 
 bright and happy. We were both so happy. For 
 it was such a comfort to have an opportunity at 
 last to tell her how much I loved her. 
 
 "I talked plainly with her: 'You dear old 
 Mother, how fortunate that I have found you at 
 last. Tell me, did you know how I went about 
 seeking for you? You did not know how deso- 
 late and cold it was here, and how I suffered when 
 you were away. Can you feel how wet my brow 
 is? Now I will rest here with you.' 
 
 " I took both her hands : ' You wonderful 
 Mother, I knew indeed that you would come 
 again. There is so much for you to do. You 
 must care for us all. You must love us as no one 
 can but you. It is so pleasant when you come in 
 this way, as you must often do.' And I asked her
 
 284 SANPRIEL 
 
 advice. When she comes, I always ask about so 
 many things 
 
 " Then she gazed so mildly upon me : ' But 
 now I must go, my child. You know indeed that 
 life is over for me.' But I held her fast. 
 ' Mother, you must not go ! See, how I wander 
 about here, unable to sleep for painful thoughts. 
 In the past, whenever I came you were waiting 
 for me. I will bring an easier chair for you. I 
 will fetch the best that is to be found. Mother, 
 you do not know how it tortures me, the thought 
 that I never did anything for you ' 
 
 " Then I saw that she had vanished. Far in 
 through the gloom she had withdrawn, while I 
 was searching for a more comfortable chair. . . . 
 Such a wonderful night it was! " 
 
 Thora Thammers sat half turned away. 
 
 " There is more," she said quietly. ' You 
 must tell it all." 
 
 He did not hear what she said. He sat with 
 his head bowed in his hands. 
 
 " I thought that I awoke then, and got up. It 
 was not yet light. I came up here. Then I saw 
 her in the distance. ' Mother,' I said, ' why are 
 you so far away? Come over here and talk with 
 me awhile. You do not know how unhappy I am 
 because I was not with you when you were ill. 
 I am so consumed with remorse that I cannot lie 
 in my bed at night.' ' Yes,' said Mother, ' I
 
 SANPRIEL 285 
 
 know, but you must not think of that any longer. 
 Now you must promise me that you will not think 
 about it.' Then she came and walked by my side. 
 I knelt down before her: 'Now at last I must 
 tell you something. Yes, there are three things 
 I have forgotten to say to you. You said the pain 
 would soon be over when once we had lost you^ 
 Now you can see that it is not so. You also said 
 that time heals all wounds neither is that in 
 the least bit true. Never again can I forget, such 
 torture it is, that I saw you that last time, and 
 merely took your hand hurriedly, and met your 
 gaze without knowing that we should not see one 
 another the next day nor ever again ! ' 
 
 " ' Yes, but, my child,' she said, ' you must not 
 think about that ' 
 
 " Then I thought that I did her some little 
 
 service, and she thanked me for it. She was al- 
 ways so grateful for the least favor. It tortured 
 me, because I had always done so little for her; 
 and I had never had a chance to say how I regret- 
 ted it. But here at last was the opportunity: 
 ' Mother, you must never thank me. It hurts me 
 when you do so. It is like a stone on my breast. 
 For it is I who should thank you eternally it is 
 never you. You know I have never done any- 
 thing for you, have never thanked you once for 
 all that you have done for me.' I was glad that 
 at last I had a chance to tell her this.
 
 286 SANPRIEL 
 
 " Is it not tiresome for you sitting here listen- 
 ing to all this?" 
 
 She did not answer, but merely looked at him. 
 
 As he continued to sit there in silence, she asked 
 finally: " Is there nothing more? " 
 
 " I thought that again all grew dark and heavy. 
 I went everywhere inquiring for Mother. There 
 was some one who said that she had gone away. 
 I thought that was so ridiculous. Finally she 
 came. ' Dear Mother, how is it that I have not 
 seen you for so long? It is fortunate that you 
 have come, for there are a thousand things that I 
 must say to you. But why do you come so si- 
 lently? How are you? Are you sleeping any 
 better now? Do you remember, you said that 
 last night: "It is so hard that I cannot sleep, 
 either day or night." Is it better now, since the 
 long, silent night has come? Is it true, Mother, 
 the saying: " Deep is the sleep of death, soft is 
 
 its pillow of dust " ? Mother, how glad I 
 
 am to hear your voice. It is so desolate when you 
 are not here so empty when I do not know that 
 
 you will soon come again ' Then I thought 
 
 that I stood beside her grave, and she followed 
 me toward home. ' You must not take it to 
 heart,' she said. ' You must not fret about it. 
 Do you not feel that I am with you? ' 
 
 " Then my heart trembled within me. ' Yes, 
 but you must never leave me again.'
 
 SANPRIEL 287 
 
 " But when we came to the door of the old 
 home I grew anxious, for I saw she had wings. 
 * You will surely go in, Mother.' Then she 
 smiled quietly. ' Dear child, do you not know 
 that I have won through?' And she turned to- 
 ward me and breathed peace upon me 
 
 " I tried to reach her with my arms then I 
 awoke Now since she is gone, I have be- 
 gun to believe that there must be a place up 
 there 
 
 " I wanted so much to have her closer to me, 
 so that I could make her old age more comfort- 
 able than I had done before in my thoughtless- 
 ness. And she had promised that this summer 
 
 she would come How much she thought of 
 
 me even in death I She wanted to spare me 
 no one must tell me how it was. A mother's love 
 that is the only thing of which nothing, not 
 even our own baseness, can deprive us." 
 
 " Shall we go home now and play chess with 
 My Lady?" 
 
 " You must not do that. You ought rather to 
 go home and rest. You are tired.'' 
 
 " Mother always said: * One has no right to 
 be tired.' She was never tired. It was in that 
 way she deceived us, who were short-sighted and 
 weak-hearted to such a degree that we believed 
 that she was divine and never could wear out.
 
 288 SANPRIEL 
 
 Yes, she deceived me to that extent, and in the 
 unspeakable simplicity of my heart I came at last 
 to believe that Mother was immortal. In- 
 credible as it may seem, when other old people 
 died I thought it was all right; but with Mother 
 death had nothing to do, he must not come near 
 her. 
 
 " Can you remember? No, you never saw her 
 after all. She loved military music when it was 
 out in the open, under the great blue heavens. 
 It seemed to loosen bound forces within her, and 
 how her eyes would shine. Deep in her soul was 
 a longing for flight, far up through the vast spaces 
 of heaven. But she was bound, so she folded 
 her wings together. She possessed great power, 
 and that silent, deep courage which would not 
 allow itself to be troubled. She bowed beneath 
 her burdens and endured them. She was invinci- 
 ble and thought everything should be borne 
 and carried on to victory. For that reason Na- 
 poleon was her hero. 
 
 " As I grew up and came to my understanding 
 I acquired great reverence for this view. All 
 that I knew of suffering, each daily sorrow or 
 grief, became as nothing in the presence of those 
 quiet, courageous eyes, those blessed blue eyes 
 which knew so much 
 
 Her beautiful, clear voice meant so much 
 
 to us children. It brought such a sense of se-
 
 SANPRIEL 289 
 
 curity with it. And when she sang to us or read 
 to us it was always a time of rejoicing. Her 
 voice never grew old, as other people's do. 
 Through all the years it kept its soft, sweet 
 note 
 
 " It is very wicked of me that I cannot allow 
 her to rest. Death is indeed a kingly reward. 
 It is the crown of life. I surely ought not to 
 grudge her that." 
 
 Thora Thammers was moved and looked at 
 him compassionately. " Yes, yes," she whis- 
 pered. 
 
 " It is hard for me. But that which troubles 
 me more in the daytime than in my dreams, is 
 the fact that I was not with her when she died 
 that it was not I who wiped the sweat from her 
 brow, lifted her up in bed and cared for her. She 
 herself thought that it was best for me not to 
 see how she suffered. But it has brought its own 
 punishment. Now I see it all continually. I en- 
 dure her suffering with her I have always 
 
 been so miserably weak. In certain ways I am 
 abnormally sensitive. So I have been accustomed 
 to set my teeth together and throw all such things 
 from me. But not now now I let them come." 
 
 A pained expression came into his face. He 
 rose, started off then came back and sat down 
 again.
 
 2 9 o SANPRIEL 
 
 " There is something else also that has begun 
 to trouble me " 
 
 Thora Thammers rose and laid her hand on his 
 arm. 
 
 " Now we must go home. Your mother said 
 that you must think of this no more. You know 
 very well she would never want you to go on 
 dwelling upon all this, although I think it is bet- 
 ter for you that you have told me about it. I 
 believe it will be easier for you to rise above it." 
 
 He looked up, surprised at her confident tone. 
 
 He rose and they went down the slope. 
 
 "I am a wretch, do you not think so? Of 
 course it will become easier. It will be easier, 
 you know, next week when I take up my cor- 
 respondence, and then when I get down to the 
 office again." 
 
 At the foot of the hill they saw Lady Ham- 
 mond coming. His face changed. 
 
 " See how confident and alert she is. She is 
 utterly amazed at the thought that there is any 
 human being who is not content. The only trou- 
 ble is that people do bore one another that she 
 admits." 
 
 "And the Lord? Do you know, he wants to 
 write a book about Norway." 
 
 " And so he wants to write ! Perhaps that 
 would be better, for everything he says is so ab- 
 surd."
 
 SANPRIEL 291 
 
 Then up came Lady Hammond, waving her 
 hand and beaming with enthusiasm. She had 
 waited for him at the chess-board, and could talk 
 of nothing but of how she would avenge herself.
 
 CHAPTER XX 
 
 SOME more guests had arrived. It was 
 Marit Hennerud's third season. 
 
 They were hunters and fishermen. Also from 
 the district down below came some of Marit's 
 friends who were now going to have a little holi- 
 day themselves. 
 
 Among them were a couple of stout young 
 guardsmen whom Thora Thammers enjoyed. 
 Simple and natural in character, and with honest, 
 open mind, they were as refreshing and invigor- 
 ating as the air itself was up there. 
 
 Thora Thammers felt stronger than she had 
 felt for many years. It seemed that now, for the 
 first time, she could rest and work. Madame 
 Harder had once said that if one wanted to get 
 things straightened out, one must begin with 
 oneself. Almost unconsciously she had come to 
 this point of view. She had not thought that she 
 agreed with it; but she noticed that after she had 
 begun work on her inner self, her vision had 
 grown clearer and her bitterness had gradually 
 disappeared. 
 
 She almost laughed, for now for the first time 
 one day she discovered that Sjur had scarcely any 
 
 292
 
 SANPRIEL 293 
 
 clothes. She had no time now for long walks, 
 but began to knit stockings and make shirts. 
 There was healing in this also, she discovered. 
 
 The days passed. She saw very little of Sam- 
 uel Stern. He was occupied with business mat- 
 ters, and also went off on hunting excursions, so 
 that at times several days passed without seeing 
 him. She no longer sought him either, except 
 when she thought it was bad for him to be alone. 
 She could tell that by looking at his face. 
 
 One day as she sat outside with her work he 
 came over to see her. 
 
 " How are you these days? I see so little of 
 you. You seem to be devoting yourself to all 
 kinds of good work." 
 
 She looked up, smiling. 
 
 " And you to the task of idleness. You have 
 sat altogether too long on your veranda doing 
 nothing. See, here is a book that I thought I 
 should take out with me. You may begin it with 
 me. You may read it to me." 
 
 He looked at her in surprise, but took the book 
 and walked along with her. 
 
 Gradually he recovered from his surprise, for 
 it had come about that he always did whatever 
 she said. Very quietly, and unconsciously to 
 both, she had acquired a power over him which 
 she never before had possessed. 
 
 It seemed to her that there was less and less
 
 294 SANPRIEL 
 
 of Omar Pasha about him, and that each day there 
 was more resemblance to the Samuel Stern she 
 once had known. 
 
 They had gotten into the habit, when he was at 
 home, of taking daily walks together. At times 
 Lady Hammond or some of the others accom- 
 panied them. The first time that this occurred 
 it struck her as odd that any one else should be 
 with them; but as she reflected upon it, it seemed 
 a perfectly natural thing. Nevertheless, when 
 they were alone they talked more freely with one 
 another. 
 
 She talked about her children and about 
 Dyveke ; and whenever a letter came from the lat- 
 ter she always read it to him. It cheered him up. 
 The fresh young enthusiasm for everything which 
 filled the letters came to them like the jubilant 
 notes of a lark. And if they saw the mail com- 
 ing, he was just as eager as she to get the let- 
 ters. 
 
 When they were alone he had begun to tell her 
 about his business affairs and he always had 
 something to say about his mother, as if it were 
 a comfort merely to mention her name. Even if 
 he did not speak of her she could tell by his tone 
 and his glance when she was in his thoughts. 
 
 She seemed always near them when they were 
 alone. 
 
 Thora Thammers was glad of this. In this
 
 SANPRIEL 295 
 
 way she was a help to him. The fact that he 
 wanted to talk with her about his mother seemed 
 to her an undeserved happiness. 
 
 But with a woman's intuition she perceived that 
 all thought of their past had been effaced from 
 his mind. Such complete forgetfulness how 
 merciful ! 
 
 She was glad of it, too, for there was justice in 
 it; and she reveled in the thought. She must 
 take care not to disturb this condition of affairs. 
 
 But then he must have forgiven her entirely. 
 She clung to that thought. 
 
 Lady Hammond, as well as others, also no- 
 ticed that Lord Stern, as she called him, had be- 
 come less irritable and more sociable. 
 
 He enraptured her one day by expressing a de- 
 sire to go with them on a fishing excursion. She 
 ascribed it to the chess. She had long ago dis- 
 covered that there was a refining influence about 
 chess but unfortunately she had never been able 
 to get her own lord to try it. 
 
 The fishing trip proved to be longer than they 
 had expected, and even more romantic than Lady 
 Hammond had imagined. 
 
 They got lost in the woods, had to stay at the 
 mountain dairies, and spent two nights in deserted 
 cabins. 
 
 Lady Hammond was more than enthusiastic, 
 while the Lord took notes for his book. Samuel
 
 296 SANPRIEL 
 
 Stern grew tired of it all and wished himself 
 home again. 
 
 When they finally returned, wet and loaded 
 down with booty, they had been away almost a 
 week. 
 
 Lord Stern had been cross, Lady Hammond 
 confessed. 
 
 Marit Hennerud would not believe this. She 
 looked after him as if she had been his mother; 
 and the fire on the hearth had never burned more 
 cheerily. 
 
 At last Fru Thammers came down and wel- 
 comed their return. Yes, she had heard that 
 they were back, but had to finish some work be- 
 fore coming down. 
 
 They dined on a remarkable fish, then gath- 
 ered around the hearth where they rested and 
 warmed themselves, while Lady Hammond re- 
 counted all their amazing adventures in her won- 
 derful Norwegian English. 
 
 Samuel Stern sat silent, leaning toward the fire, 
 his head resting on his hand. 
 
 Lady Hammond was not so much engrossed in 
 her story but that she noticed how the flame 
 lighted up the handsome head with its curly hair. 
 Her own lord was so bald. 
 
 Samuel Stern sat looking at Thora Thammers 
 in a surprised sort of way. It seemed as if he did 
 not really recognize her, or as if, after this ab-
 
 SANPRIEL 297 
 
 sence, he for the first time saw that she had 
 changed. 
 
 Finally he spoke to her about it. 
 
 She turned toward him. 
 
 'Who is it who says: 'Sorrow has its own 
 reward. It never leaves us where it found us '? 
 I hope it is true. I needed to change." 
 
 Then she added more softly: " I think I am 
 learning a little each day from your mother." 
 
 As she turned away again there was a gleam of 
 tears in her eyes. 
 
 The clear, bright days went peacefully by, 
 while the trees upon the lawn put on their yellow 
 autumn dress. These were the last, late days of 
 summer, that sometimes come toward the end of 
 September. This year there were many of them. 
 
 Lady Hammond would not go away while it 
 was so beautiful, and Marit Hennerud had been 
 obliged to promise her to stay a while longer. 
 She had already rented one of the cottages for 
 the next summer and also wanted Fru Thammers 
 to promise to come up again. 
 
 But Fru Thammers had shaken her head with 
 a firm little smile. 
 
 On the whole it was just as well not to have 
 too much of Lady Hammond at one time. 
 Therefore she seized the first opportunity to get 
 away. It seemed to her almost a crime to sit
 
 298 SANPRIEL 
 
 inside and gossip during such wonderful weather 
 as they had been having the last few days. 
 
 She went up on Flyen, up where Samuel Stern 
 had sat with his mother. 
 
 She often went there, because the view was 
 wonderful now in the clear autumn air, and be- 
 cause this place with its memories was a part of 
 the silent life of her thoughts. 
 
 She sat down on a stone in the full flood of 
 sunshine. The beams played about her in gentle 
 familiarity, bringing with them some of the stored 
 up sweetness of summer. 
 
 She enjoyed the huge, restful mountains. She 
 felt that they had given her something of their 
 quiet strength and a bit of their tranquillity. 
 
 For tranquil she should be. Ever more 
 
 tranquil! That should be her motto. 
 
 The trees, with minds at rest, leaned to- 
 ward her over the long slopes. They were her 
 friends and she must thank them, for they also 
 had helped her. 
 
 A little dwarf birch glowed by her side, and 
 straight above stood some golden aspens, quiv- 
 ering in the soft breeze. Their leaves were drop- 
 ping one by one, unceasingly, sailing softly down 
 about her with a faint trembling sound. 
 
 For an instant a breath of wind brought the 
 sound of the Falls as plainly as though they were 
 close by. She had not thought they could be
 
 SANPRIEL 299 
 
 heard up here. Someway they did not fit in. 
 Here everything was, as it were, ended. She 
 
 also was approaching the end It was better 
 
 to hear the river. It rushed along with imperi- 
 ous will, but it was not stupid. What it talked 
 about in its wild mood in the spring it had forgot- 
 ten 
 
 " River, what do you say as you hasten 
 
 by? Shall all become tranquil and peaceful in 
 the end?" 
 
 The answer came murmuring back : " Have no 
 fear. Man shall at last attain his goal." 
 
 " Yes, of course ! " she answered in her 
 thoughts. " Yes, we know that is true." 
 
 Nevertheless, she continued to sit there listen- 
 ing. She thought it said " Yes, yes," so reassur- 
 ingly, the whole way down the silent, listening 
 mountain-side, "Yes I Yes!" with such a heavy, 
 confident murmur.
 
 CHAPTER XXI 
 
 SHE did not know what time it was. She 
 thought it must be late and was just on the 
 point of starting down, when she saw Samuel 
 Stern coming up the slope directly toward her. 
 
 It was seldom now that they met on Flyen. 
 So she sat still. 
 
 He came up and sat down in his usual place. 
 
 "Well! How are you? I notice that you 
 make use of the chess-board and me as a means of 
 escape." 
 
 She assented smilingly. 
 
 " How long are you going to stay up here? " 
 
 " Our Lady has beguiled me into staying a 
 while longer, so long as the weather is pleasant." 
 
 " That is sensible. You are getting to look 
 
 so much better. Then you have so much to do." 
 
 ' You mean my reading with Sjur. . . Yes, 
 
 that also is a reason for staying a little while 
 
 longer. I believe that he will be benefited by it." 
 
 " He looks so fine these days, as though he 
 were ready to stand at the altar. Yes, we have 
 much to thank you for, Sjur and I; but I am jeal- 
 ous of him. He may keep the shirts and stock- 
 ings, but why have you not read to me also? " 
 
 300
 
 SANPRIEL 301 
 
 ' You are facetious to-day." 
 
 " Not at all ! I find that I am obliged to leave 
 this evening now, before supper. I have al- 
 ready paid my respects and said good-by down 
 below, and left a farewell message for you. So 
 it is indeed fortunate that I have found you." 
 
 She smiled somewhat heavily. " It must be 
 quite accidental since you left your good-by be- 
 low." 
 
 " As you please ! It is quite a fortunate acci- 
 . dent for me, however. I want to thank you for 
 what you have done for Sjur and me." 
 ' You are very thoughtful," she said briefly. 
 
 " I have not always been so. But to speak 
 seriously, it is pleasant that we have met is it 
 not?" 
 
 She did not answer. It hurt her that his com- 
 ing to say good-by should be purely an accident. 
 She felt that she had not deserved this; but she 
 suppressed her feeling, and when she turned to- 
 ward him she was calm as usual. 
 
 " Yes, it is indeed. I am glad to see you be- 
 fore you go thankful to be allowed to say 
 good-by. But now permit me to say a few words 
 to you. There is something I would like to 
 know, for there must no longer be any bitterness 
 between us." 
 
 She had grown somewhat paler than usual, but
 
 302 SANPRIEL 
 
 sat quietly with hands folded on her knee. She 
 did not look at him. 
 
 With a hasty glance he turned around facing 
 her. He made a movement as if to go, but con- 
 tinued to sit there dumbly staring at her. 
 
 She waited a moment to gain better control 
 over herself. Then she continued: 
 
 " There is something else that I have wanted 
 to say. Now I think I can do so, for we are 
 really friends, are we not? " 
 
 He nodded and she continued, somewhat un- 
 certainly. 
 
 " One day when you were talking about your 
 mother, and what a great happiness it was to pos- 
 sess the love of a human being, you said that one 
 always had a right to know if one were loved, 
 that it was good for one to know it there was 
 strength in the knowledge and no one had a 
 right to withhold it. You were filled with re- 
 morse that you never had told your mother in so 
 many words. 
 
 "Then I thought: 'That is true. It is in- 
 deed.' That is why I speak now. Always, while 
 I believed that I loved Arvid and afterward 
 it was always you alone whom I loved always 
 you whom I kept in my heart and in my dreams. 
 I do not give this as an excuse for myself, and it 
 may indeed sound strange; but perhaps it may les- 
 sen the bitterness somewhat.
 
 SANPRIEL 303 
 
 " I can say this now, now that all else has been 
 forgotten. But now you must tell me that you 
 have forgiven me, wholly and completely." 
 
 He raised his hands as if to shield himself. 
 
 She continued: "And you can see that I am 
 no longer unhappy. I have learned much. I 
 have reached a point where I never was be- 
 fore. . . . Yes, I shall be happy, merely to hear 
 you say that you have forgiven me." 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " It is you who must forgive. You want to be 
 my friend, but I don't care for your friendship. 
 For now I have come to love you again, but in a 
 very different way. Be quiet, you need not be 
 frightened I will never annoy you again. But 
 you also must know that through all the long 
 years, it often happened that I would raise my 
 head and look toward the door, thinking that you 
 would some time come or I would turn and 
 look, hoping to find you waiting somewhere to 
 surprise me. There was a time when I wanted 
 to hate you. But that feeling is long since gone, 
 and I am glad that now I love you so purely that 
 I do not say: Stay, for the day is declining. 
 Stay, that there may be some brightness to lighten 
 the gloom. I say: Go! You must leave me, 
 and I shall pray that all good may come to you. 
 
 " To have seen such a feeling as this within my 
 heart for you, grow large and beautiful until it
 
 3 o 4 SANPRIEL 
 
 has reached the point where the thought is no 
 longer for self, but wholly for the other, is to an- 
 ticipate the great mystery which inclines soul to 
 soul. It gives one an idea that there is within 
 one something worthy of reverence, something of 
 the power of God which may be looked upon as 
 a refining fire. When the Lord appeared on 
 Mount Sinai, you know, the people had to cleanse 
 their garments, and a wall was set round about 
 so that no one should come too near the holy place 
 and be struck down. And the people trembled 
 and stood far off. Many of us poor mortals have 
 been struck down because we have profaned 
 the holy place." 
 
 His voice had grown so mild that it was like a 
 flood of tenderness streaming toward her. 
 
 " But you must tell me, dear one, where you 
 will be so that I may know how you live and 
 breathe. You do not know what a comfort it is 
 to me just to know that you exist. . . . But why 
 are you so pale? Are we not at peace now? 
 May your feet walk in ways of pleasantness." 
 
 She had sat with bowed head. Now she 
 looked up with a pained expression, and her voice 
 faltered. 
 
 " My feet found their way up here. ... I 
 thought if I could be of some service to you, 
 that would be the best thing for me It is
 
 SANPRIEL 305 
 
 not I who am going it is you. Yet it is true 
 that time heals all wounds. There is still hap- 
 piness in store for you. And when your rooms 
 are no longer empty, when a happy young life is 
 joined with yours, then will it be well with me. 
 Then shall I know that I am forgiven." 
 
 There was silence. 
 
 Then he rose and stretched out his hands to- 
 ward her. 
 
 " I want you to tell me, at any rate, if you can 
 believe me this time. Do you not yet believe me? 
 I am determined that you shall ! " 
 
 He grew vehement. 
 
 She closed her eyes and sank back against a 
 bowlder. 
 
 " I do indeed believe you. You have sat here 
 and told me that you have forgotten everything, 
 and I believe you. I have, in fact, seen it myself 
 this entire summer . . . have seen it and felt it 
 with heart and soul, and with all my being so 
 I truly do believe you." 
 
 She added softly: "So you must forgive me 
 for all I said that time. I no longer think that 
 way now. I only think, how glad I should be if 
 you could be happy." 
 
 Her nerves began to quiver. She tried in vain 
 to control herself. 
 
 He sat down opposite her.
 
 3o6 SANPRIEL 
 
 " Now you must tell me in strictest truth 
 whether you did not believe me that time also, 
 when you said you never could believe me 
 again . . . and if it were true that you had for- 
 gotten me." 
 
 She grew deathly pale. 
 
 " It was not true. But I was afraid of my- 
 self. It was I myself whom I could not trust. 
 So I had to save myself, from myself." 
 
 He rose and walked away. She looked anx- 
 iously after him. 
 
 He came back again, stooped and looked into 
 her quivering face. 
 
 " May I take Wolf's place? He is not here." 
 
 He took Wolf's place and laid his head on her 
 knee. 
 
 Might he not? He asked again humbly, long- 
 ingly. 
 
 She could not answer him. The wave of joy 
 which swelled within her had broken softly into 
 tears. 
 
 He said nothing more. 
 
 Then she bent forward. She must see his 
 face. 
 
 He was weeping. 
 
 She pressed her cheek against his hair and 
 closed her eyes. A flood of happiness broke over 
 her a silent ecstasy. 
 
 Was it true? Or was it another dream?
 
 SANPRIEL 307 
 
 " So you would give me a young wife," he mur- 
 mured. 
 
 She laughed. Then her voice took on a more 
 serious note. 
 
 " Because you had ceased to think of me. I 
 saw that I had no place in your tsight or in your 
 mind." 
 
 " I knew no better than that you had turned 
 from me forever. That time you said that you 
 never could believe me, it was then you were lost 
 to me completely. It was like death." 
 
 " Forgive me ! " She crept into his arms. 
 
 " And now I have come," he whispered, " and 
 beg for warmth and shelter will you give them 
 to me?" 
 
 " No, it is I who come begging that I may be 
 let in in where your mother is. I will sit on 
 a stool at her feet and learn of her. It is my 
 great loss that I did not come before." 
 
 " Do you know," she murmured a moment 
 later, " if I had not been so certain that you had 
 forgotten me, I never could have said what I did." 
 
 " Then how thankful I should be for my self- 
 restraint. But let us never think of that again. 
 I cannot yet comprehend how all this has come 
 about." 
 
 Suddenly her face changed and she drew back 
 from him. 
 
 " Yes, but after all it was merely an accident.
 
 3 o8 SANPRIEL 
 
 "And what of that? We should have great 
 reverence for what we call accidents. It is they 
 
 that shape our destinies You surely are not 
 
 thinking of leaving me again? " 
 
 He drew her quickly to him. 
 
 " You do not know what a blessed thing it is 
 for such a poor, frozen mortal to get home." 
 
 But she could not free herself from the 
 thought. 
 
 " Otherwise you would have gone away. You 
 intended to leave me?" 
 
 He looked at her in mild reproach. 
 
 " I knew no better, dear. Remember, it was 
 you yourself who had closed the door on hope. 
 Your role of pitying angel was an entirely differ- 
 ent matter. As to that, it might have happened 
 that I should have come again to see if you were 
 here." 
 
 " But I really feel that you ought to have a 
 young wife, a fresh, happy " 
 
 He laid his hand on her mouth. She took it 
 away and kissed it. 
 
 " Yes, for you see how old I have grown, so 
 old that my hair ought to be quite white." 
 
 " Dear child, you do not yet know what it is 
 to love. If you were so old that you had but one 
 day more to live, I should rejoice that I had won 
 you, so that we might have that day together.
 
 SANPRIEL 309 
 
 And if we had no more than this hour here I 
 would not exchange it for a long existence with a 
 young wife." 
 
 He laughed, then took both her hands and 
 kissed them. 
 
 " I suspect that you would like to be seventeen 
 again, as you were that other time. Fortunately 
 you cannot be. Let me confide in you: the hap- 
 piness I have won to-day I would not change for 
 the bliss of youth, or for anything of such a trivial 
 nature. Do you not feel how much greater our 
 happiness is to-day than it was then? It is like 
 costly wine which has grown all the richer for 
 having been stored away. It is as genuine as the 
 pure, red gold. 
 
 " You say it is late. It is never too late for a 
 blessing to come to one. At whatever time of life 
 it comes, that is the best. . . . But tell me, what 
 is the matter? " 
 
 For her eyes had grown so heavy. A shadow 
 crept over her face, a hint of all she had suffered, 
 of all the tears she had shed. 
 
 "What is it?" he asked quickly. 
 
 " I am filled with remorse. Have you for- 
 given me for letting life slip away from us in this 
 way?" 
 
 He folded her quietly in his arms. " Have 
 you forgiven me? For many years I have won-
 
 3 io SANPRIEL 
 
 dered how I could have done what I did at that 
 time. . . . Yet life has not slipped away it is 
 here when you smile. When I hold you in my 
 arms, life is here." 
 
 She looked at him so fearfully, as though she 
 did not dare yield to her happiness. 
 
 " Oh, Samuel, I wish you could see things as 
 they are." 
 
 He gazed far into the depths of her eyes. 
 
 " Tell me that you are content here with me," 
 he begged. " Tell me that. For you see, it has 
 all come back. Our youth is here again. Is it 
 not true that I have waited for you? Why were 
 
 you so long? And the little brook among 
 
 the pines, do you remember how it rippled and 
 sang? . . . The old pines still whisper, and the 
 little brook ripples and murmurs. Do you re- 
 member? " 
 
 " Yes, how we wandered along, wishing that 
 time would stand still." 
 
 " Now all that has come back to us again." 
 
 " Yes," she whispered, but the tears stood in* 
 her eyes. She turned away so that he should not 
 see them. 
 
 Could it be true that at last they two had come 
 together? Could it be that he sat there so close 
 to her, and that they never more should be sep- 
 arated? How she thrilled with happiness merely 
 to hear his voice, his soft breathing! And she
 
 SANPRIEL 3 n 
 
 saw once more his smile with the mild expression 
 about the mouth. 
 
 ' Thora, do you know what your name is like? 
 It is deep blue in color, and mysterious, like the 
 mountain up there. Then it is full of hidden sun- 
 shine like yourself." 
 
 He bent over her. 
 'Thora, what are you thinking about?" 
 
 " I am not thinking. My thoughts are at 
 rest." 
 
 ' That is because it is summer here . . . and 
 you are here. And you are, after all, only seven- 
 teen. Once more I thank God for you." 
 
 " Ah, but Samuel, you can no longer see." 
 
 " Indeed, I see that you have come back to me 
 again, and each day shall I acknowledge this 
 blessing on bended knee. You do not know how 
 often I have longed to touch your hand. Why 
 do you close your eyes? " 
 
 u Because it is all so dazzling. Like a flood of 
 light it comes over me that I am here with you. 
 If only you are happy, then all will be well. It 
 is so cozy and warm with you. It is I who have 
 been frozen, I who have at last come home. Tell 
 me once more that you love me, Samuel; once 
 more. I am so hungry to hear it, to know that 
 it is true." 
 
 Silence fell upon them. All about was quiet.
 
 3 i2 SANPRIEL 
 
 There was nothing to be heard but the stroke of an 
 oar from a solitary boat on the water below. It 
 was like a vast cathedral filled with the peace of 
 consecration. 
 
 She sat with a smile on her lips. A joy arose 
 within her a deep and palpitating joy. 
 
 To them it seemed so good merely to sit there 
 together, knowing that henceforth they never 
 again should part. But occasionally he felt con- 
 strained to say something. Then there was si- 
 lence again. Then it was she who must say some- 
 thing to him, just so she would know that it was 
 not a dream. 
 
 As she had sat there her face had changed. 
 The heavy lines had faded away, and bathed in 
 light another face appeared a happy face. 
 
 " Samuel, there is just one thing I must ask you 
 again. Do you really love me still? It seems 
 so wonderful to me that I must ask you once 
 more." 
 
 He did not answer her question. He only 
 made some foolish remark which had no meaning 
 in it, but which touched her deeply. 
 
 " Samuel, you forget entirely the years that 
 have passed." 
 
 " How different my name sounds as it comes 
 from your lips ! It is like a new name, soft and 
 mild, with depths of feeling, and it seems to bring 
 a blessing with it. Say it again. You never said
 
 SANPRIEL 313 
 
 it that way in the past. Your voice was not capa- 
 ble of it before." 
 
 1 The white dress you had on that time you 
 left me, what have you done with it? You must 
 wear just such a dress when you come to me now, 
 so that I may know you have really come again." 
 
 " But, Samuel, everyone will laugh at me." 
 ' What difference will it make with my happi- 
 ness if people do laugh? Can you tell me? " 
 
 She could not. 
 
 " But there is one thing that I have completely 
 forgotten to ask you. Can you love me? Can 
 you hold me in your heart forever? Can you 
 keep in mind our enchanted life here on Flyen? 
 For that is the best of all 
 
 " And your little bluebells, they are here. Do 
 you hear them? " 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " I was just going to ask if you could " 
 
 " How soft and sweet your laugh is 1 You do 
 not know how musical it is, and how your face 
 grows young as you laugh. What did you say? " 
 
 " I said nothing. It is impossible to say any- 
 thing, for there is so much to be said." 
 
 " Do you hear how the pine trees are singing 
 over there on the slope? I never heard the for- 
 est sing as it does to-night. And here comes our 
 brother the wind. Let us thank God for wind
 
 3 i4 SANPRIEL 
 
 and weather, for storm and silence, for our sister 
 the moon and all the bright little stars and for 
 life." 1 
 
 He became anxious, for she had grown so pale. 
 He drew the little shawl carefully around her. 
 
 "You are tired; you must sit perfectly quiet." 
 
 She smiled. " I will think of you." 
 
 She crept closer to him. 
 
 " Say something. It seems so good just to 
 hear your voice." 
 
 So he sat and whispered but only a little so 
 that she might rest the better. 
 
 Each time he spoke she smiled. 
 
 Suddenly she rose. 
 
 " Samuel, there is just one thing more I must 
 ask about." 
 
 He pressed her in his arms. 
 
 " You are still Sanpriel," he whispered. 
 
 She asked nothing more. 
 
 Wolf came. He pricked up his ears and 
 looked at them intently with his wild brown eyes, 
 then lay down wagging his tail, quite certain that 
 all was as it should be. 
 
 " Now the dew is falling on the earth. 
 
 The call has come for evening prayers, for the 
 high mass of the setting sun." 
 
 1 The evening song of St. Francis.
 
 SANPRIEL 315 
 
 " I hear it," she said, and laid her hand in his. 
 
 A silver blue haze crept over the ridges. 
 Sweet sounds were wafted over mountain and sea. 
 The forest dissolved into one huge mass of gloom. 
 
 They sat there watching the sun as it sank be- 
 low the dark slope. 
 
 The moon came out, low on the horizon and 
 shedding a pale, silvery glow. The beams trem- 
 bled as though some one were playing upon them. 
 
 Suddenly the air felt fresh, like a breath from 
 the land beyond. . . . 
 
 " What is it, you blossoms, what is it? " 
 
 She looked at him and smiled. 
 
 " It is an angel, coming over the earth to give 
 us greeting." 
 
 Her eyes grew solemn and her heart swelled 
 within her. It seemed as if it would burst that 
 she must die. . . . 
 
 The heavens were filled with burning gold 
 with fire which flamed on high, then died away. 
 A sea of red came rolling in from deepest pur- 
 ple to palest rose in color. 
 
 The eternal snows were kindled, and Flyen was 
 tinged with blood. 
 
 But above the snow and the mountains, all was 
 dazzlingly clear. 
 
 They seemed to look beyond the stars into space 
 into the transparent depths of infinity.
 
 3 i6 SANPRIEL 
 
 And flowers floated down about them, rare and 
 delicate blossoms. Wrapped in nameless colors, 
 a figure seemed gliding toward them, as on white 
 wings, coming straight from the far within. . . . 
 
 Thora trembled. A fancy seized her. 
 
 " Samuel," she whispered, " it is your mother, 
 coming to open for us the gates to the Promised 
 Land."
 
 *****
 
 A 000 125 737 "