l matter."

Duprez gazed up at her wonderingly, feeling very much like a chidden
child.

"Never say what is not true!" he thought. "Mon Dieu! what would become
of my life?"

It was a new suggestion, and he reflected upon it with astonishment. It
opened such a wide vista of impossibilities to his mind.

Meanwhile old Gueldmar was engaged in pouring out wine for the other
young men, talking all the time.

"I tell thee, Thelma mine," he said seriously, "something must be very
wrong with our Sigurd. The poor lad has always been gentle and
tractable, but to-day he was like some wild animal for mischief and
hardihood. I grieve to see it! I fear the time may come when he may no
longer be a safe servant for thee, child!"

"Oh, father!"--and the girl's voice was full of tender anxiety--"surely
not! He is too fond of us to do us any harm--he is so docile and
affectionate!"

"Maybe, maybe!" and the old farmer shook his head doubtfully. "But when
the wits are away the brain is like a ship without ballast--there is no
safe sailing possible. He would not mean any harm, perhaps,--and yet in
his wild moods he might do it, and be sorry for it directly afterwards.
'Tis little use to cry when the mischief is done,--and I confess I do
not like his present humor."

"By-the-by," observed Lorimer, "that reminds me! Sigurd has taken an
uncommonly strong aversion to Phil. It's curious but it's a fact.
Perhaps it is that which upsets his nerves?"

"I have noticed it myself," said Errington, "and I'm sorry for it, for
I've done him no harm that I can remember. He certainly asked me to go
away from the Altenfjord, and I refused,--I'd no idea he had any serious
meaning in his request. But it's evident he can't endure my company."

"Ah, then!" said Thelma simply and sorrowfully, "he must be very
ill,--because it is natural for every one to like you."

She spoke in perfect good faith and innocence of heart; but Errington's
eyes flashed and he smiled--one of those rare, tender smiles of his
which brightened his whole visage.

"You are very kind to say so, Miss Gueldmar!"

"It is not kindness; it is the truth!" she replied frankly.

At that moment a very rosy face and two sparkling eyes peered in at the
door.

"Yes, Britta!" Thelma smiled; "we are quite ready!"

Whereupon the face disappeared, and Olaf Gueldmar led the way into the
kitchen, which was at the same time the dining-room, and where a
substantial supper was spread on the