mother's sake. When
afterward his father died, he was abroad and did not come to the
funeral. Nor has he been here since; he is a lawyer, that I know, and he
has never married. But he thought no more of me, and had he seen me, he
would certainly have never recognized me, so ugly as I am now. And it is
right it should be so."

Then she went on to speak of the bitter days of adversity, when troubles
had come upon them in a flood. They had five hundred rix-dollars, and as
in their street a house could be bought for two hundred, it was
considered a good investment to buy it, take it down, and build it anew.
The house was bought; masons and carpenters made an estimate that one
thousand and twenty rix-dollars more would be required. Erik arranged to
borrow this sum from Copenhagen, but the ship that was to bring him the
money was lost, and the money with it. "It was just then that my sweet
boy, who lies sleeping here, was born. Then his father fell sick; for
three-quarters of a year I had to dress and undress him every day. We
went on borrowing and borrowing; all our things had to be sold, one by
one; at last Erik died. Since then I have toiled and moiled for the
boy's sake, have gone out cleaning and washing, done coarse work or
fine, whichever I could get; but I do everything worse and worse; my
strength will never return any more; it is our Lord's will! He will take
me away, and find better provision for my boy."

She fell asleep. In the morning she seemed better, and fancied she was
strong enough to go to her work again. But no sooner did she feel the
cold water than a shivering seized her, she felt about convulsively with
her hands, tried to step forward, and fell down. Her head lay on the
dry bank, but her feet were in the water of the brook, her wooden shoes
were carried away by the stream. Here she was found by Maren.

A message had been taken to her lodging that the sheriff wanted her, had
something to say to her. It was too late; the poor washerwoman was dead.
The letter that had brought the sheriff news of his brother's death also
gave an abstract of his will; among other bequests he had left six
hundred rix-dollars to the glove-maker's widow, who had formerly served
his parents. "There was some love-nonsense between my brother and her,"
quoth the sheriff. "It is all as well she is out of the way; now it will
all come to the boy, and I shall apprentice him to honest folk who will
make him a good workman." For wha