sant surprise.

"Do you know, Joergen, that Father has two hundred thousand kroner
invested in Uncle Klaus's business?"

"He has two hundred and fifty thousand," Joergen answered.

She was much surprised--in the first place by Joergen's knowing, in the
second, by the fifty thousand.

"Uncle Klaus himself said two hundred thousand."

"Yes, your father has that sum invested in Uncle's ships and commercial
enterprises. But lately, before he was taken ill, he sent Uncle fifty
thousand more, which he had lying idle."

"How do you know?"

"Uncle told me."

"There is no note of this last sum in father's books."

"No; your father probably did not take the trouble to enter it; he was
not in the habit of doing so. Besides"--here Joergen paused--"are you in
possession of all your father's business papers?"

Into this subject Mary would not enter; she knew that the question was a
natural one; but how in the world did Joergen----? Perhaps through Mrs.
Dawes. What he had told her, however, rejoiced her. She stood still;
there was something she wanted to say. But the wind caught up her
skirts, unloosed some of her hair, and blew about her scarf.

"How perfectly lovely you look!" Joergen exclaimed.

"But Joergen--then there is nothing in the way!"

"We can marry, you mean?"

"Yes!" and off she started.

"No, dear. The shares are yielding almost nothing just now."

"What does that matter? We'll risk it, Joergen!" she cried, radiant with
health and courage.

"Without Uncle's consent?" asked Joergen in a despondent tone.

Mary stood still again. "He would disinherit you?"

Instead of answering directly, Joergen began mournfully: "I wish you
knew, Mary, what I have had to bear from Uncle, from the day he adopted
me--the things he has demanded of me, the things he has persecuted me
for. To this very day he treats me like a naughty schoolboy. The worst
of his bad temper is vented upon me."

The mixture of unhappiness and bitterness depicted on his face led Mary
involuntarily to exclaim: "Poor Joergen--now I begin to understand!"

They walked on. She reflected that Joergen's power of self-control had
been acquired in a hard school; there he had also learned the art of
concealment. She could not but admire his tenacity of purpose. What had
it not accomplished! Think of his music alone! It, however, had been a
great consolation to him. Now she understood his extreme politeness; now
she understood his sentimentality; sh