She was too accustomed to Carina's moods to be either annoyed
or astonished; but she loved her all the same, and knew that her little
ears were wide open, even though she gave no sign of listening.

Carina had just completed her simple toilet when Guro, the chamber-maid,
entered, and announced that there were some sick folk below who wished
to see the wonder child.

"Tell them I cannot see them," answered Carina, with a tremulous voice;
"papa does not permit me."

"But this man, Atle Pilot, has come from so far away in this dreadful
cold," pleaded Guro, "and his son is so very bad, poor thing; he's lying
down in the boat, and he sighs and groans fit to move a stone."

"Don't! Don't tell her that," interposed Agnes, motioning to the girl to
begone. "Don't you see it is hard enough for her already?"

There was something in the air, as the two sisters descended the stairs
hand in hand, which foreboded calamity. The pastor had given out from
the pulpit last Sunday that he would positively receive no invalids
at his house; and he had solemnly charged every one to refrain from
bringing their sick to his daughter. He had repeated this announcement
again and again, and he was now very much annoyed at his apparent
powerlessness to protect his child from further imposition. Loud and
angry speech was heard in his office, and a noise as if the furniture
were being knocked about. The two little girls remained standing on the
stairs, each gazing at the other's frightened face. Then there was a
great bang, and a stalwart, elderly sailor came tumbling head foremost
out into the hall. His cap was flung after him through the crack of the
door. Agnes saw for an instant her father's face, red and excited;
and in his bearing there was something wild and strange, which was so
different from his usual gentle and dignified appearance. The sailor
stood for a while bewildered, leaning against the wall; then he stooped
slowly and picked up his cap. But the moment he caught sight of Carina
his embarrassment vanished, and his rough features were illuminated with
an intense emotion.

"Come, little miss, and help me," he cried, in a hoarse, imploring
whisper. "Halvor, my son--he is the only one God gave me--he is sick; he
is going to die, miss, unless you take pity on him."

"Where is he?" asked Carina.

"He's down in the boat, miss, at the pier. But I'll carry him up to you,
if you like. We have been rowing half the night in the cold, and he