ld herself) then she would inform him of her good
fortune; and even then he must be pledged to keep his own counsel.

At last the time came; the girl invited her father to walk with her upon
the hills to gather wild flowers.

"We will go first into the valley by way of the trail, Father, and then
come home another way. There are many beautiful blossoms and mosses, and
we will take our tin cup and lunch along with us," said Eyllen brightly
as she made ready for the tramp.

"Anywhere you say, Eyllen, only let it not be too far for my feet to
travel," replied the man indulgently, as he watched her, well pleased
with the grace of her movements.

"When we are tired we will sit and rest in the sunshine. See! Here is
buttermilk the priest's housekeeper has sent you. I will carry a
bottleful to refresh you when thirsty."

They then trudged off among the hills. A few short walks Michaelovitz
had already taken with his friend and good supporter at his arm, but who
was today away in his boat on the water, and he now leaned upon the
stock he carried in his right hand.

For a time Eyllen walked by her father's side, carrying her basket of
luncheon, but as the trail narrowed she led the way, restraining her
haste as best she could (for she was impatient to be at her ledges) lest
she should tire her father before their walk was ended.

Several times they halted to rest. As yet her father saw no reason for
hurrying. To loiter, to rest upon the hillside and chat in the sunshine
was what he liked; and here was his daughter fleet-footed and strong,
almost hurriedly leading him far into the valley between the hills as
though bent on some mission.

Where could she be going?

"Are you sure you know where you go, daughter? And that you will not get
us lost in the mountains? I have never before been so far from the
settlement in this direction, and we cannot hear the church bell ring,
eh, Eyllen?"

"No, Father, we care nothing for hearing the church bells now," laughed
the girl, "and as for losing ourselves, it is impossible, as I have many
times rambled over and through these hills. I know each rock as large as
my head, and I will show you some presently much larger and more
beautiful, as you are sure to agree with me."

"Rocks are not beautiful, child. I thought it was blossoms you wanted to
show me."

"So it is, but on our return. We have reached the place I wanted to show
you, Father. Sit upon this mound while I fetch a cup