nd then at the mother and her
little one in bed--looked at them--and laughed! And the joy in his
pale, thin face--it was a wonderful sight...."

"And the mother?" asked the girl eagerly. "Was she happy too--more
than he?"

"Yes, she laughed too for joy at everything--the children, and the
rags, and the draughty hut, and all. And I was so astounded I didn't
know where to look. Happy--in all that misery and wretchedness! Were
they so utterly without feeling, then, that they could not cry? But
now I understand it all. I know what made those poor folk happy in it
all: they had found that thing we spoke of--the great secret. And it
made the hut a palace for them, and the ragged children as dear as
those of any king and queen--yes, they were happy."

The two sat in silence for a while. Olof felt a slight thrill pass
through the girl's body to his own.

"I see it now," said the girl at last. "A little while ago I could not
see what it was that made life so deep and wonderful. And do you know,
Olof--I should like to be just such a poor woman as that--frost on the
windows and rags for a bed, but ... but...." Bright tears shone in her
eyes.

"But--what?" he asked tenderly, taking her head in his hands.

"But with the one I loved--to be mine--all mine, for ever!" she
answered, looking straight into his eyes.

Olof started. It was as if something had come between them, something
restless and ill-boding that broke the soft swell of the waves on
which they drifted happily--something, he knew not what, that made its
presence felt.

"Or--not that perhaps--but to have something of his--something he had
given me--to lie beside me in a bed of rags and smile," said the girl.
And laying her head in his lap she clung to him as if her body had
been one with his.

* * * * *

The lamp was lit, and a little fire was burning on the hearth. The
girl sat on the floor, as was her way, holding her lover's feet in her
lap--wrapped in her apron, as if they were her own.

"Go on working--I won't disturb you," she said, "only sit here and
warm your feet and look at you."

Olof gave her a quick, warm glance, and turned to his work again.

"Olof," said the girl, after a pause, "what shall I have to hold in my
lap when you are gone?"

She looked up at him helplessly, as if he alone could aid her.

Olof made a movement of impatience, as if he had made an error in his
reckoning that was hard to put right.