d not notice it, for she was accustomed to
Elsa's airs and graces. Karin really drew a sigh of relief when the
carriage drove away and she was left to herself. It was not a pleasant
evening that she spent, filled with the thronging reminiscences of the
past and a full realization of her own shortcomings. To-morrow she would
make another visit to her mother, and try to be more frank and
affectionate.

The morning came, and Karin was busy clearing all traces of a
traveller's comfort from the capacious bag that Elsa had been allowed to
give her for the journey. It really would hold a great deal, and filled
it was to the uttermost at the country shop to which Karin easily found
her way; tea, sugar, and tempting articles of diet, which she hoped her
mother would enjoy. It was heavy, but Karin rather liked to feel the
pain in her arm, from bearing her unusual burden. She easily found her
way along the upward path, and exhilarated by the exercise and the
pleasure she was about to give, she entered the cottage in a very
cheerful frame of mind. All was silent within.

In the box sofa-bed of the single room there was some one lying, pale
and still. "She is dead!" was the first wild thought of distress; but a
sweet, broken voice murmured something about Erik and heaven. It was
plain that the old woman was wandering in mind, and lost in visions of
the past.

Karin unpacked her basket in a hurry. There were the preparations of the
night before for the fire and the boiling of the water for the morning
meal, to be simple indeed. Yet there was a packed basket, "the basket"
no doubt from the parsonage. She did not unpack it, though it seemed
filled with food. She made some tea in haste, and took it with a
biscuit to her mother's side. She put the cup on a chair near her, and
sitting down on the edge of the bed, she lifted up the old woman,
passing one strong arm about the little body. There was gentleness and
kindness in the touch. The old head was voluntarily drooped caressingly
against the breast of her daughter; there was a long sigh, and Karin
knew she was motherless. Repentant, sorrowing tears flowed fast. There
was no opportunity left for reparation in this world. That loving last
movement towards her was the only pleasant thought on which Karin could
dwell.

How still it was in the cottage! The birches without scarcely quivered
in the soft summer air, and not even the twitter of a bird was to be
heard.

Karin had just gent