she added.

"I can see that. It is only what I expected; so I brought something with
me for you--if you will only take it. It is the most invigorating tonic
I know."

Mary felt all her sympathies go out to this woman. She thanked her
heartily, adding: "Then, as soon as I am a little stronger, I may come?"

"You will be very welcome."

"Perhaps," said Mary, blushing, "you would not mind coming to me?"

"To your house in the market-place?" asked Miss Roey.

"Yes, to our house in the market-place. Though I ought no longer to say
'our' house!" The tears came again.

"You have only to let me know, and I shall come at once."

A week later Mary went to town--in the wildest November storm, the worst
they had had in these parts. The fjords were not yet frozen over, so the
steamer managed to reach town, but had to remain there.

Margrete Roey was much astonished at being summoned on such a day. It was
to a warm, comfortable house she came, not the deserted one with the
drawn down blinds which she was accustomed to see. She was conducted up
an old-fashioned broad stair; the whole interior was in the style of the
old town-houses of the beginning of last century.

Mary was in the farthest away of the suite of sitting-rooms, a red
boudoir, unchanged since her mother's day. She was sitting on a sofa,
beneath a large portrait of her mother. When she stood up in her black
dress, pale and heavy-eyed under her crown of red hair, it struck
Margrete Roey that she was the very image of sorrow, the most beautiful
one that could be imagined. A solemn tranquillity surrounded her. She
spoke as low as the storm outside permitted.

"I feel that you respect another's grief. I am also certain that you
betray no secrets."

"I do not."

A little time passed before Mary said: "Who is Joergen Thiis?"

"Who is he----?"

"I have several reasons for believing that you can tell me."

"You must first allow me to put a question. Are you not engaged to
Joergen Thiis?"

"No."

"People say that you are."

Mary remained silent.

"You have perhaps been engaged to him?"

"Yes."

"But," said Margrete quickly and joyously, "you have broken off the
engagement?"

Mary nodded.

"Many will rejoice to hear it; for Joergen Thiis is not worthy of you."

Mary showed no signs of surprise.

"You know something?" she asked.

"Doctors, Miss Krog, know more than they may tell."

"Yet I do believe that he loved me," said Mary, to excuse hersel