ad
always been taught that temptations lurk in everything which
surrounds the Christian here below.

Sarah had not seen much; but Fennefos himself, who had journeyed
throughout the land in all directions, had no higher conception of
the beauty of nature than that a beautiful country was one that was
fertile, and that an ugly one was one which was full of fields,
lakes, and precipices, and devoid of rich pastures.

Nevertheless, the calm, pleasant summer evening was not without its
effect upon them. They had again discussed the chief defects of their
community, and how desirable it was that some one should take them
seriously in hand.

But now the conversation flagged. They stopped and gazed over the
fjord, where the fires were being lighted up. Boats rowed about, and
song and music reached their ears. Sarah unconsciously heaved a deep
sigh, and turned to go back to the town.

Hans Nilsen was about to say something about the sinfulness of the
children of this world, but was unable to frame words. He abandoned
the attempt, and, before he knew what he was doing, asked her if she
was pleased with the letter he had given her when they last
separated.

"Oh yes, Hans Nilsen!" she said, turning her face towards him, her
colour heightened. She said no more, and he, too, became quite
confused.

They turned towards the town. At the street door Sarah asked him if
he would not come in for a moment. He followed unconsciously, and,
when they entered the room, sat down on a chair.

He was glad to rest, he said, for he was weary. The evening rays lit
half the room, but the back part was already dark. Sarah went out
into the kitchen to see if the door was shut. The servants had gone
upstairs, and the house was still and deserted, for it was nearly ten
o'clock.

She brought some water and raspberry syrup, and Hans Nilsen, contrary
to his custom, took a long draught. He was both tired and thirsty, he
said.

Sarah sat at the other end of the sofa, and neither of them spoke.
After a minute or two, the silence grew oppressive, and they began to
converse again, but soon again lapsed into silence.

"What were you going to say?" inquired Hans Nilsen.

"I--I only asked if you would have some more syrup and water," said
she, with some embarrassment.

"No, thank you. I ought to be going."

He got up and walked across the room. His hat lay on the table; but
Fennefos moved, as if he hardly knew where he was, towards the
window, an