reath, with her
hair in a tangle, exclaimed: "Oh, Sarah, you _should_ have seen it!
Do you know who has come back?"

"Hush, hush! Henrietta," said Sarah, chiding her; "only think if our
mother were to see you such a figure."

Upon this Henrietta began to smooth her unruly hair; but, unable to
restrain herself, she whispered with portentous eagerness: "I was in
the market, right down by the quay--don't tell it to mother--and
Skipper Worse came rowing--Skipper Worse has arrived from Rio, you
know--came rowing in with a six-oared boat and a flag, and behind him
sat Lauritz. I did not recognize him till he jumped on shore; he has
grown so tall"--raising her hand up. "He saw me; indeed, I think he
is following me here."

"Oh, Henrietta!" said Sarah, somewhat severely, knitting her
eyebrows.

But the graceless Henrietta stuck her tongue out and stole into the
passage, whence she hoped to reach the workroom unobserved. Sarah's
look grew anxious; she could not comprehend her unruly sister. She
herself had never been like this. Such a worldly disposition must
needs be subdued.

Nevertheless, she sometimes felt touched when Henrietta boiled over
with youthful animation, and almost felt a wish to share her high
spirits.

There was the old Adam in her, which ought to be suppressed and
overcome; but yet--but yet----

Presently she was again disturbed by the appearance of a round,
sunburnt, smiling face at the kitchen door. But the smile vanished as
Lauritz, looking sheepish and awkward, walked in. He had evidently
expected to see some one else.

"Welcome home, Lauritz," said Sarah, in a friendly voice.

"Thank you," said Lauritz, in his deepest tones, as he stood rubbing
his hands together in the doorway.

"Do you wish to see my mother?"

"Yes; I want to know if I can lodge here."

"My mother is in the sitting-room."

Lauritz Seehus was almost like a younger brother to Sarah, for he had
boarded at Madame Torvestad's ever since his school days. His own
home at Flekkefjord was not a happy one; his father drank, and there
was a swarm of small children.

In a few moments Lauritz reappeared, crestfallen and wretched.

"What, Lauritz," said Sarah, "are you going away so soon?"

"Yes," said he, hurrying out, "I could not manage it."

As he descended the old well-known kitchen stairs, he thought himself
the most unfortunate creature in the world; in fact, he wept--for the
first time since his boyhood.

During the w