was taking root. "Go on--what
happened then?"

"Then, just as he was going away, the girl said to him, 'Set a mark
on me somehow, so that I shall always feel I belong to you, and no one
can tear you from my heart.'

"The boy thought for a moment. 'Where shall I set the mark?' he asked.

"'Here, above my heart,' said the girl.

"And she bared her breast, and the boy took out his knife and with its
sharp point scratched a little heart on her breast."

The girl shivered a little.

"And then he coloured it where he had cut, like sailors do with
anchors on their arms. And when he had finished, he kissed it. And
they said good-bye, and he went away."

Olof was touched--now he understood....

"And what then?" he asked softly. "What happened after, to the girl
with a mark above her heart, and to him that made it?"

"The boy...." She stopped, at a loss, and then went on: "There's no
more about him in the story. He went away. Only about the girl...."

"Yes, yes, of course," said Olof. "He went away. And the girl?"

"The girl--she looked at the mark every night when she undressed, and
every morning when she dressed herself, for she felt as if he were
there all the time, because of the mark. But then the time came when
her parents said she must marry. And she didn't want to, but she had
to all the same. But she did not love her husband, and was always
looking secretly at the mark her lover had made, as if she were
talking with him that way, and it made her happy."

"And the husband," asked Olof eagerly, "did he find out?"

"No. Men don't notice things like that as a rule. But then the girl
bore a child--she was still a girl, for she had remained true to her
lover. And the child had the very same mark in the same place.

"The husband saw the mark. 'What's this?' he asked in a stern voice.

"'Tis a birth-mark,' said the girl. "'Do not lie to me!' cried the
man. 'It is more than that. Let me see your breast.'

"Now the girl did not want to do this, for she felt that the mark was
nothing to do with him. But her husband's face grew dark with anger,
and he tore away her clothes, and bared her breast. And now she would
not try to hide the mark at all, but stood up straight and let him
see. And before he could even ask, she told him what it was, 'That is
the mark my lover made when I was a girl,' she said. 'For a sign
that I should belong to him for ever--and I have.' And at that the
husband's eyes flashed, and without