ave and taciturn, as had
been his wont ever since his return.

Before the soup, a grace was read by an old man with blue hands--he
was a dyer. Afterwards they sang a hymn. There should have been
salmon after the soup; but, at the last moment, the host was troubled
by certain compunctions, and, to the cook's intense disgust, forbade
its being placed on the table.

There was, therefore, only roast mutton, of which a good deal was
eaten. The cook had ventured to serve a salad with it, a dish which
few of them had ever seen before.

One of the seniors said, jestingly: "What next! shall we eat grass
like King Nebuchadnezzar?"

They laughed a little at this, and Madame Torvestad, taking advantage
of the occasion, told them that in her younger days in Gnadau, she
got little else to eat than such "grass" and other vegetables.

After this, the conversation was directed to the various institutions
of the Brethren, to their leading men, and to the teachers and
preachers of the olden time, men who in the last century had awakened
a new life among the Christians in Germany.

Hans Nilsen either remained silent, or merely spoke a few words in a
low voice to Sarah. But the others were anxious to talk on these
subjects, which interested them all, and on which they were well
informed.

Madame Torvestad was especially interested; in such subjects she was
thoroughly at home, and she let no opportunity escape her of relating
what she knew of the men who were so famous in her younger days.

"Yes, truly," said Sivert Jespersen, "many a blessed word remains to
us from Johan Arndt, Spener, and Francke; also among the Herrnhutters
of later times there have been many godly men."

"We might learn something from them, and they from us," said the old
dyer.

"The other day, I read in a little book of mine of a vision that
appeared to a pious follower of Francke. Shortly afterwards, this man
learnt that Francke had died at the very moment when he had seen the
vision." As she said this, Madame Torvestad took from her pocket one
of her everlasting small books. Sivert Jespersen begged her to read
the account of the apparition, if that happened to be the book of
which she spoke.

It was the book; she had, in fact, brought it because she and the
elders had agreed that by soothing and gentle words they should
endeavour to bring back their dear friend and brother, Hans Nilsen,
to a more settled frame of mind.

The guests prepared themselves