true that we have sometimes spoken of Brattahlid while I waited. Astrid
looks favorably upon my needlework. Once or twice she has said that she
would like to buy me--"

This time Thorhild snorted. "She takes too much trouble! Helga will
never sell you to anyone. You need get no such ideas into your head. Why
do you talk such foolishness, and hinder me from my work? Can you not
tell me shortly whether or not you got the malt?"

"I did, lady. Two thralls will bring it as soon as it can be weighed."

"I shall need it, if guests arrive. And what of the ship? Did you learn
whose it is? It takes till pyre-and-fire to get anything out of you."

Editha's rosy face, usually as full of placid content as a kitten's,
suddenly puckered with anxiety. "Lady, as I passed, it was still a long
way down the fiord. I could only see that it was a large and fine
trading-vessel. But one of the seamen on the shore told me it was his
belief that it is the ship of Gilli of Trond-hjem."

The house-wife's keys clashed and clattered with her motion of surprise.
"Gilli of Trondhjem! Then he has come to take Helga!"

Editha nervously clasped and unclasped her hands. "I got afraid it might
be so."

"Afraid, you simpleton?" The matron laughed excitedly, as she brushed
all stray hairs out of her eyes and tightened her apron for action. "It
will become a great boon to her. Since the Englishman's death, she has
been no better than a crazy Brynhild. To take her out into the world and
entertain her with new sights,--it will be the saving of her! Run
quickly and tell her the tidings; and see to it that she puts on her
most costly clothes. Tell her that if she will also put on the ornaments
Leif has given her, I will give her leave to stop embroidering for the
day."

Editha observed to herself, as she tripped away, that undoubtedly her
mistress had already done that without waiting for permission. And it
proved very shortly that she was right.

In the great work-room of the women's-house, among deserted looms and
spindles and embroidery frames, Helga sat in dreamy idleness. The
whirlwind of excitement that had swept her companions away at the news
of approaching guests, had passed over her without so much as ruffling a
hair. Her golden head rested heavily against the wall behind her; her
hands lay listlessly upon her lap. Her face was as white as the unmelted
snow in the valleys, and the spring sun-shine had brought no sparkle to
relieve the shadow