This calm,
glittering bay with the sea-birds! The ripple yonder where the river
flows in, the level land stretching back between the heights, and these
in their robes of green! Were the trees round the house really no
higher? How nice it looked, the house--long and white, with black window
frames and black foundation wall. From one chimney thick smoke was
rising, in cheerful welcome. She jumped on shore before the others and
ran on in front. A little girl, between eight and ten, who was running
down from the house, stopped when she saw Mary, and rushed back as hard
as she could. But Mary overtook her at the steps. "I've caught you!" she
cried, turning her round. "Who are you?" The fair-haired, smiling
creature was unable to answer. On the steps stood the maids, and one of
them said that the child's name was Nanna, and that she was there to run
errands. "You shall be my little maid!" said Mary, and led her up the
steps. She nodded to each of the women, and felt that they were
disappointed because she hurried on without speaking to them. She was
longing to set foot on the thick carpets, to feel the peculiar light of
the hall about her, to see the huge cupboards and all the pictures and
curios of the Dutch days. And she was longing even more to reach her own
room. The silence of the stairs and of the long, rather dark
passage--never had it played such a game of whispers with her as it did
to-day. She felt it like something soft, half-hidden, confidential and
close. It was still speaking when she reached the door of her room; it
actually kept her from opening the door for a moment.

Ah!--the room lay steeped in sunshine from the open window which looked
over the outbuildings to the ridge. Paler light entered from that
looking on the orchard and the bay below, the water of which glittered
between the trees. Beyond the trees were seen the islands and the open
sea, at this moment pale grey. But from the hill, now in fairest leaf
and flower, the fragrance of spring poured in. The room itself, in its
white purity, lay like a receptacle for it. There everything arranged
itself reverently round the bed, which stood in the middle of the floor.
It was more than a bed for a princess; it was the princess herself;
everything else seemed to do homage to it.

* * * * *

The excursion to Marielyst was in every way a success. But during the
course of it a coolness arose between Mary and Joergen Thiis.

I