re up the page; but the next morning a letter lay ready to be sent
to Christine, and it contained the following words:

"I have read the letter you have sent to your father, and
gather from it that you are prospering in all things, and
that there is a prospect of higher fortune for you. Ask your
heart, Christine, and ponder well the fate that awaits you,
if you take me for your husband; what I possess is but
little. Do not think of me, or my position, but think of
your own welfare. You are bound to me by no promise, and if
in your heart you have given me one, I release you from it.
May all treasures of happiness be poured out upon you,
Christine. Heaven will console me in its own good time.

"Ever your sincere friend,

"IB"

And the letter was dispatched, and Christine duly received it.

In the course of that November her banns were published in the church
on the heath, and in Copenhagen, where her bridegroom lived; and to
Copenhagen she proceeded, under the protection of her future
mother-in-law, because the bridegroom could not undertake the journey
into Jutland on account of his various occupations. On the journey,
Christine met her father in a certain village; and here the two took
leave of one another. A few words were mentioned concerning this fact,
but Ib made no remark upon it: his mother said he had grown very
silent of late; indeed, he had become very pensive, and thus the three
nuts came into his mind which the gipsy-woman had given him long ago,
and of which he had given two to Christine. Yes, it seemed right--they
were wishing-nuts, and in one of them lay a golden carriage with two
horses, and in the other very elegant clothes; all those luxuries
would now be Christine's in the capital. Her part had thus come true.
And to him, Ib, the nut had offered only black earth. The gipsy-woman
had said, this was "the best of all for him." Yes, it was right, that
also was coming true. The black earth was the best for him. Now he
understood clearly what had been the woman's meaning. In the black
earth, in the dark grave, would be the best happiness for him.

* * * * *

And once again years passed by, not very many, but they seemed long
years to Ib. The old innkeeper and his wife died, one after the other;
the whole of their property, many thousands of dol