arman; you must have had plenty of it when you
lived at Bratvold."

"Oh yes!" answered Madeleine, with some confusion.

"Well, for my part," he continued, in a merry tone, "I can say with
truth that I am a friend of the people, but I must confess that when the
dear creatures come too near my nose my affection for them somewhat
cools. There is something about that mixture of fish, tobacco, tar, and
wet woollen clothes that I can't get over."

Madeleine could not but feel what a vivid description this was of the
people among whom she had lived, and of him to whom she had so
nearly--Ah, it was well she had not betrayed the secret to any one.

As they were crossing the market Delphin pointed to some one going in
the direction of Sandsgaard.

"I declare, there is Mr. Johnsen going to Sandsgaard again to-day. Do
you know, Miss Garman, he has gone a little wrong in his head?" But
Madeleine had heard nothing about it.

"Yes, he is quite wrong in his head," continued her companion; "but it
is not yet perfectly clear whether he is in love or whether it is
religious mania. In favour of the first theory, that he is in love, we
have the fact that he rushes over to Sandsgaard nearly every day, and is
seen talking _tete-a-tete_ with Miss Rachel. In favour of the other
theory, that he has gone wrong on the subject of religion, it is said
that he intends to give us no end of a sermon one of these Sundays.
Won't you go to hear him?"

"Well, I don't know; but if the others go, I dare say I may go too."

"No! now promise me you will go to church that Sunday," said he, looking
at her imploringly.

There was no time for an answer; they were close to the door, and
Madeleine had caught a glimpse of Fanny behind the curtains of the
sitting-room.

In the mean time Mr. Johnsen went on his way. It was quite true that he
was going to Sandsgaard, but Delphin's statement that he was there every
day was an exaggeration. Since that Sunday, when the conversation had
waxed so warm, he had not been at Sandsgaard; but his thoughts had been
occupied ever since by the recollection of his last conversation with
Rachel in the garden.

Eric Johnsen came, as he often said, of a poor family. At the Garmans'
he was first brought into contact with that luxury which he had hitherto
despised, and he had made up his mind beforehand that he would not allow
himself to be dazzled by it, and therefore on his first introduction had
made his best endeavour to