right that they could not restrain
their feelings. A new, pure happiness had come to them; they could
almost forget all that had happened. When this child was two years
old, God took it too.

Some people seem to be chosen out by sorrow. They are the very people
that seem to us to need it least, but at the same time they are those
that are best fitted to bear trials and yet to keep their faith. These
two had early sought God together; after this they lived as it were in
His presence. The life at Tingvold had long been a quiet one; now the
house was like a church before the priest comes in. The work went on
perfectly steadily, but at intervals during the day Endrid and Randi
worshipped together, communing with those "on the other side." It made
no change in their habits that Randi, soon after their last loss, had
a little daughter. The children that were dead were boys, and this
made them not care so much for a girl. Besides they did not know if
they were to be allowed to keep her. But the health and happiness
that the mother had enjoyed up to the time of the death of the last
little boy, had benefited this child, who soon showed herself to be a
bright little girl, with her mother's pretty face. The two lonely
people again felt the temptation to be hopeful and happy in their
child; but the fateful two years were not over, and they dared not. As
the time drew near, they felt as if they had only been allowed a
respite.

Knut and Astrid kept a good deal to themselves. The way in which the
young people had taken things did not allow of much sympathy or
consolation being offered them. Besides, Knut was too lively and
worldly-minded to sit long in a house of mourning or to be always
coming in upon a prayer meeting. He moved to a small farm that he had
bought and let, but now took back into his own hands. There he
arranged everything so comfortably and nicely for his dear Astrid,
that people whose intention it was to go to Tingvold, rather stayed
and laughed with him than went on to cry with his children.

One day when Astrid was in her daughter-in-law's house, she noticed
how little Mildrid went about quite alone; it seemed as if her mother
hardly dared to touch her. When the father came in, she saw the same
mournful sort of reserve towards his own, only child. She concealed
her thoughts, but when she got home to her own dear Knut, she told him
how things stood at Tingvold, and added: "Our place is there now.
Little Mildrid