his was
absolutely different from what she had dreamed of. This glorious day
was to be a disappointment. At first she thought--this will end some
time, and we shall go comfortably home again. But by degrees, as his
spirits rose, she became merely the guest of a society man. As such
she was shown all imaginable attention--indeed, the two gentlemen
joined in making much of her, till she could have cried.

After luncheon she was ceremoniously conducted on Aaroe's arm into
another room which was also in readiness for them; comfortable, well
furnished, and with a piano.

Coffee was served at once with liqueur, and not long afterwards the
two men asked to be excused; they wanted to smoke, they would not be
long. They went, and left her alone. This was scarcely polite, and now
she first realised that it was not the day only, but Aaroe, who had
become different from what she had believed him. The great darkness
which had overwhelmed her on the night of the ball again menaced her;
she fought against it; she got up and paced the room; she longed to be
out of doors, as though she could find him again there, such as she
had imagined him. She looked for the luncheon-room, put on her red
shawl, and had just come out on to the broad space before the
building, when the waiter came up to her and said something in English
which she could not at first understand. Indeed, she was too much
occupied with her own thoughts to be able suddenly to change
languages.

The waiter told her that one of her companions was ill, and the other
not to be found. Even when she understood the words, she did not
realise what was the matter, but followed mechanically. As she went
she remembered that Aaroe's tongue had not been quite obedient when,
after the liqueur, he had asked permission to go and smoke; surely he
had not had a stroke.

They passed the smoking-room, which seemed to be full--at all events
of smoke and laughter. The door of a little room by the side of it was
opened; there lay Aksel Aaroe on a bed. He must have slunk in there
alone, perhaps to drink more; indeed, he had taken a short thick
bottle in with him, which still stood on a table by the bed, on which
he lay fully dressed with closed eyes and without sense or feeling.

"Tip, tip, Pete!" he said to her, and repeated it with outstretched
finger, "Tip, tip, Pete!" He spoke in a falsetto voice. Did he mean
Peter? Did he take her for a man? Behind him on a pillow lay something
hairy;