s history, his sojourn there.

Once started, he continued, and gradually broke into such merry
anecdotes that Magnhild was astonished when they stopped to rest;
astonished that she had been able to laugh, and that they had driven
nearly fourteen miles.

Skarlie helped her out of the sledge and ushered her into the inn, but
he himself went directly out again to feed the horse.

A stylish looking young lady sat by the hearth in the guest-room warming
herself, scattered over the benches around were her traveling-wraps;
they were of such fine material and costly fur that Magnhild grew
curious and felt obliged to touch them. The traveling-suit the lady
wore, so far as material and style was concerned, made the same
impression on Magnhild as she might have gained from a zooelogical
specimen from another quarter of the globe. The lady's face possessed
youth and a gentle melancholy; she was fair and had languishing eyes and
a slightly-curved nose. Her hair, too, was done up in an unfamiliar
style. Pacing the floor was a slender young man; his traveling boots
stood by the hearth and his feet were cased in small morocco slippers,
lined with fur. His movements were lithe and graceful.

"Are you Skarlie's young wife?" inquired the hostess, quite an old
woman, who had placed a chair by the hearth for Magnhild. Before
Magnhild could reply, Skarlie came in with some things from the sledge.
The bald head, half protruding from the shaggy furs, the deer-skin
shoes, sprawling like monstrous roots over the floor, attracted the
wondering gaze of the young lady.

"Is this your wife?" repeated the hostess.

"Yes, this is my wife," was the cheerful reply, as Skarlie limped
forward.

The young man fixed his eyes on Magnhild. She felt herself growing fiery
red beneath his gaze. There was an expression entirely new to her in his
face. Was it scorn? The lady, too, now looked at her, and at the same
moment the hostess begged Magnhild to take a seat by the fire. But the
latter preferred remaining in the dark, on a bench in the farthest
corner.

It was fully ten o'clock when the Point was reached, but every light
there had been extinguished, even in the house in front of which the
sledge stopped. An old woman, awakened by the jingling of the bells,
came to the street door, opened it and looked out, then drew back and
struck a light. She met Magnhild in the passage, cast the light on her
and said finally, "I bid you welcome."

A strong sme