pty, so still. A few
creaking steps above, then not another sound.

Magnhild must have stood motionless for a long time. She heard some one
take hold of the door-knob at last, and involuntarily she pressed both
hands to her heart. Then she felt an impulse to fly; but the little fair
curly head of the child, with its innocent, earnest eyes, now appeared
in the opening of the door.

"Is mamma here?" the little one asked, cautiously.

"She is up-stairs," replied Magnhild, and the sound of her own voice,
the very purport of the words she uttered, caused the tears to rise in
her eyes and compelled her to turn her face away.

The child had drawn back its head and closed the door. Magnhild had no
time to become clear in her own mind about what had occurred; for the
child speedily came down-stairs again and into her room.

"Mamma is coming; she said I must wait here. Why are you crying?" But
Magnhild was not crying now. She made no reply, however, to the child,
who presently exclaimed: "Now mamma is coming."

Magnhild heard the lady's step on the stair, and escaped into her
bedroom. She heard the interchange of words between mother and child in
the adjoining room, and then to her consternation the bedroom door was
opened; the lady came in. There was not the slightest trace of guilt in
her eyes: they diffused happiness, warmth, candor through the whole
chamber. But when her gaze met Magnhild's the expression changed,
causing Magnhild to drop her eyes in confusion.

The lady advanced farther into the room. She placed one hand on
Magnhild's waist, the other on her shoulder. Magnhild was forced to
raise her eyes once more and met a grieved smile. This smile was also so
kind, so firm, and therefore so persuasive, that Magnhild permitted
herself to be drawn forward, and presently she was kissed--softly at
first, as though she were merely fanned by a gentle breath, while that
unknown perfume which always accompanied the lady encompassed them both,
and the rustle of the silk dress was like a low whisper; then
vehemently, while the lady's bosom heaved and her breath was deeply
drawn as from some life-sorrow.

After this, utter silence and then a whispered: "Come now!" She went on
in advance, leading Magnhild by the hand. Magnhild was a mere child in
experience. With contending emotions she entered the pretty little
cottage occupied by the lady, and was soon standing in the midst of open
trunks and a wardrobe scattered through t