eeled round on his chair and faced the speaker:

"That is all Greek to me," he said, in a severe tone. "Can you keep
accounts?"

"No. I am afraid not."

Keeping accounts was not deemed a classical accomplishment in Norway. It
was only "trade-rats" who troubled themselves about such gross things,
and if our Norseman had not been too absorbed with the problem of his
destiny, he would have been justly indignant at having such a question
put to him.

"Then you don't know book-keeping?"

"I think not. I never tried it."

"Then you may be sure you don't know it. But you must certainly have
tried your hand at something. Is there nothing you can think of which
might help you to get a living?"

"I can play the piano--and--and the violin."

"Very well, then. You may come this afternoon to my house. Mr. Olson
will tell you the address. I will give you a note to Mrs. Van Kirk.
Perhaps she will engage you as a music teacher for the children. Good
morning."

IV.

At half-past four o'clock in the afternoon, Halfdan found himself
standing in a large, dimly lighted drawing-room, whose brilliant
upholstery, luxurious carpets, and fantastically twisted furniture
dazzled and bewildered his senses. All was so strange, so strange;
nowhere a familiar object to give rest to the wearied eye. Wherever he
looked he saw his shabbily attired figure repeated in the long crystal
mirrors, and he became uncomfortably conscious of his threadbare coat,
his uncouth boots, and the general incongruity of his appearance. With
every moment his uneasiness grew; and he was vaguely considering the
propriety of a precipitate flight, when the rustle of a dress at the
farther end of the room startled him, and a small, plump lady, of a
daintily exquisite form, swept up toward him, gave a slight inclination
of her head, and sank down into an easy-chair:

"You are Mr. ----, the Norwegian, who wishes to give music lessons?"
she said, holding a pair of gold-framed eyeglasses up to her eyes, and
running over the note which she held in her hand. It read as follows:

DEAR MARTHA,--The bearer of this note is a young Norwegian, I forgot to
ascertain his name, a friend of Olson's. He wishes to teach music.
If you can help the poor devil and give him something to do, you will
oblige, Yours, H. V. K.

Mrs. Van Kirk was evidently, by at least twelve years, her husband's
junior, and apparently not very far advanced in the fo