places at the tables. Nor was the subject dropped there;
Marit's beauty became the talk of the town. To think that these regular
features and bright eyes, and that white, white skin should be framed in
such a glory of red hair! And the whole was in perfect keeping with the
tall figure, the slight forward inclination of the shoulders, and a
bosom which, though not fully developed yet, nevertheless stood out
distinct and free.

The arms, the wrists, the hips, the legs!--it became positively comical
when a group of young men were heard maintaining with the utmost
eagerness that the ankles were more superb than anything else. Such
ankles had never been seen--so slender and so beautifully shaped--no,
never!

Joergen Thiis forgot to speak; he even for a considerable time forgot to
eat, though, as a rule, he liked nothing better. He followed Marit about
like a sleep-walker. She was never to be seen without him behind her or
at her side.

Her father and Mrs. Dawes had, on account of the ball, come in to the
town house. They were awakened at dawn of day by loud talking and
laughter outside, ending with cheers; the whole company had seen Marit
home.

Next day the relations and friends of the Krog family came to call. The
elder people who had been at the ball considered Marit to be the most
beautiful creature they had ever seen. At nine o'clock in the evening
old Klaus had rowed into town and trudged round for the express purpose
of getting some of his friends to come out and see her.

In the afternoon Joergen presented himself in uniform, with new gloves.
He had taken the liberty of calling to ask how Miss Krog was. But
nothing had as yet been heard of that young lady.

When she did make her appearance, her mind was not occupied with
yesterday, but with something quite different. This Mrs. Dawes felt at
once. The queen of the ball told nothing about the ball. She contented
herself with asking if they had been awakened. Then she went and had
something to eat. When she came back, her father told her that Joergen
had called to ask how she was. Marit smiled.

"Do you not like Joergen?" asked Mrs. Dawes.

"Yes."

"Why did you smile, then?"

"He ate so much."

"His father, the Amtmand, does the same," remarked Krog, laughing. "And
he always picks out the daintiest morsels."

"Yes, exactly."

Mrs. Dawes sat waiting for what was to come next; for something was
coming. Marit left the room; in a short time she appeared ag