han usual beauty. The former milkmaid was gone and
another had taken her place. Ole and Peter, with whom Lisbeth in
earlier years had tended her flock almost daily, were her companions
no longer. They had not been up at the saeter since they were
confirmed,--two years ago. Ole had even sailed to America. Lisbeth had
missed the boys very much, and had many a time been lonely during the
last two summers, for no new herders had come from the Hoegseth or
Lunde farms. At home, too, at the Hoel Farm, there had been changes
among the people, and Bearhunter had become blind. Lisbeth herself no
longer occupied her old place by the heap of firewood in the great
kitchen on winter evenings, but sat beside Kjersti on the wooden
carving bench; that is, she sat there when she did not have to study
her catechism or learn her hymns to be ready for school the next day.

And now still further changes were in store for her. This was to be the
last summer she would be sitting up here tending her flock. What would
come next? Kjersti Hoel had not said anything to her about the
future,--perhaps Kjersti would not want her any longer. But Lisbeth put
these thoughts aside,--she would not allow her mind to dwell on such
perplexing subjects when all was so delightfully peaceful and beautiful
around her. Whatever her lot might be, or wherever she might go, of one
thing she was certain,--she would never forget these mountain scenes
nor this stone which had always been her favorite resting place,
especially since she had been so much alone; and she gazed around her
again.

As her eyes wandered about she caught sight of a man far off on the
marsh, sauntering along in her direction, stopping once in a while and
stooping down, apparently to pluck an occasional cloudberry, for they
were now beginning to ripen. This sent her thoughts into another
channel.

Who could it be coming over the marsh? Not a man looking for horses,
for no one goes out for that purpose on Sunday; nor a cloudberry
picker, for the berries were not yet ripe enough to pay for the trouble
of seeking. Surely it was some one who had made the ascent of the
mountain for pleasure only. What if it should be Jacob! She had not
seen him since the last autumn, and he had said then that he would come
up to see her this summer. Nevertheless the young man did not look like
Jacob; and Jacob, not being very well acquainted on the western
mountain, would not be trying to find the Pancake Stone. Yet