all expectancy and animation.

Arnfinn pulled a thick black note-book from his breast pocket, opened it
in his lap, and read:

"August 3, 5 A. M.--My little invalid is doing finely; he seemed to
relish much a few dozen flies which I brought him in my hand. His pulse
is to-day, for the first time, normal. He is beginning to step on the
injured leg without apparent pain.

"10 A. M.--Miss Augusta's eyes have a strange, lustrous brilliancy
whenever she speaks of subjects which seem to agitate the depths of
her being. How and why is it that an excessive amount of feeling always
finds its first expression in the eye? One kind of emotion seems to
widen the pupil, another kind to contract it. TO be noticed in future,
how particular emotions affect the eye.

"6 P. M.--I met a plover on the beach this afternoon. By imitating his
cry, I induced him to come within a few feet of me. The plover, as
his cry indicates, is a very melancholy bird. In fact I believe the
melancholy temperament to be prevailing among the wading birds, as
the phlegmatic among birds of prey. The singing birds are choleric
or sanguine. Tease a thrush, or even a lark, and you will soon be
convinced. A snipe, or plover, as far as my experience goes, seldom
shows anger; you cannot tease them. To be considered, how far the voice
of a bird may be indicative of its temperament.

"August 5, 9 P. M.--Since the unfortunate meeting yesterday morning,
when my intense pre-occupation with my linnet, which had torn its wound
open again, probably made me commit some breach of etiquette, Miss
Augusta avoids me.

"August 7--I am in a most singular state. My pulse beats 85, which is
a most unheard-of thing for me, as my pulse is naturally full and slow.
And, strangely enough, I do not feel at all unwell. On the contrary, my
physical well-being is rather heightened than otherwise. The life of a
whole week is crowded into a day, and that of a day into an hour."

Inga, who, at several points of this narrative, had been struggling hard
to preserve her gravity, here burst into a ringing laugh.

"That is what I call scientific love-making," said Arnfinn, looking up
from the book with an expression of subdued amusement.

"But Arnfinn," cried the girl, while the laughter quickly died out of
her face, "does Mr. Strand know that you are reading this?"

"To be sure he does. And that is just what to my mind makes the
situation so excessively comical. He has himself no suspicion