which are generally considered so necessary for a
young girl; they plainly did not apply in her case--she was so different
to others. As soon, therefore, as Johnsen had exchanged a few words with
old Mrs. Garman, she said, without further ado, "Come, Mr. Johnsen, let
us take a turn in the garden," without her mother being in the least
astonished. Rachel had grown up quite beyond her power of restraint, and
if it came to the worst, thought Mrs. Garman, this unusual _penchant_
for a clergyman was not the worst one Rachel could have hit upon.

The two went down into the garden, where they walked as usual up and
down the central path. He found it rather difficult to lead the
conversation in the direction he wished. His tone was therefore somewhat
doubtful, as he said, "I have thought a great deal about our last
conversation; in fact, I have hardly thought of anything else since,
and, with your permission, I should like to say a few more words on the
same subject."

"I am always glad to talk with you," answered Rachel, fixing her eyes
upon him. Rachel had the same clear blue eyes as her father, to whom, in
fact, she bore considerable resemblance, even in the slight projection
of her under jaw. Her dark hair was faintly tinged with red, especially
at the temples, and her tall and well-built figure rendered her
appearance rather more imposing than attractive. The young men generally
were absolutely afraid of her, and she had the reputation of being
terribly learned and sarcastic, which was considered to be a great pity,
as in other respects she was a most desirable _parti_. Mr. Johnsen did
not notice any of these peculiarities: all he thought of was leading the
conversation into the direction he desired. At length he was successful.
He spoke with ever-increasing earnestness on the change that had taken
place in him; how that she had not only roused him to meditation, but
had also imparted to him a desire for work, for which he must now find
vent. He had come to her to be told how and where he was to begin.

Rachel seemed somewhat embarrassed. "It is not so easy for me," she
answered, "who as a woman am debarred from a life of action, if even I
had the wish for it, to advise you how you ought to begin."

"I am ready for anything," cried he, excitedly. "I am ready to write or
speak against the abuses I see everywhere around me. I am ready to cut
myself adrift from the calling I have adopted, if it must be. I will not
leave a