es as long as _she_ gives clothes and wood
to the poor."

"She has spoken so many noble words that have opened the hearts of
men; those words are the keys of our pews.

"She has thought beautiful thoughts of God's love. Those thoughts
raise us from our graves."

So they whispered and murmured before they sat down in the pews and
bent their pale foreheads in prayer in their shrunken hands.

***

At Arsta some one came into Mamsell Fredrika's room and laid her
hand gently on the sleeper's arm.

"Up, my Fredrika! It is time to go to the early mass."

Old Mamsell Fredrika opened her eyes and saw Agathe, her beloved
sister who was dead, standing by the bed with a candle in her hand.
She recognized her, for she looked just as she had done on earth.
Mamsell Fredrika was not afraid; she rejoiced only at seeing her
loved one, at whose side she longed to sleep the everlasting sleep.

She rose and dressed herself with all speed. There was no time for
conversation; the carriage stood before the door. The others must
have gone already, for no one but Mamsell Fredrika and her dead
sister were moving in the house.

"Do you remember, Fredrika," said the sister, as they sat in the
carriage and drove quickly to the church, "do you remember how you
always in the old days expected some knight to carry you off on the
road to church?"

"I am still expecting it," said old Mamsell Fredrika, and laughed.
"I never ride in this carriage without looking out for my knight."

Even though they hurried, they came too late. The priest stepped
down from the pulpit as they entered the church, and the closing
hymn began. Never had Mamsell Fredrika heard such a beautiful song.
It was as if both earth and heaven joined in, in the song; as if
every bench and stone and board had sung too.

She had never seen the church so crowded: on the communion table
and on the pulpit steps sat people; they stood in the aisles, they
thronged in the pews, and outside the whole road was packed with
people who could not enter. The sisters, however, found places; for
them the crowd moved aside.

"Fredrika," said her sister, "look at the people!"

And Mamsell Fredrika looked and looked.

Then she perceived that she, like the woman in the saga, had come
to a mass of the dead. She felt a cold shiver pass down her back,
but it happened, as often before, she felt more curious than
frightened.

She saw now who were in the church. There were none but women
th