rties. Her blonde
hair, which was freshly crimped, fell lightly over her smooth, narrow
forehead; her nose, mouth and chin had a neat distinctness of outline;
her complexion was either naturally or artificially perfect, and
her eyes, which were of the purest blue, had, owing to their
near-sightedness, a certain pinched and scrutinizing look. This look,
which was without the slightest touch of severity, indicating merely
a lively degree of interest, was further emphasized by three small
perpendicular wrinkles, which deepened and again relaxed according to
the varying intensity of observation she bestowed upon the object which
for the time engaged her attention.

"Your name, if you please?" said Mrs. Van Kirk, having for awhile
measured her visitor with a glance of mild scrutiny.

"Halfdan Bjerk."

"Half-dan B----, how do you spell that?"

"B-j-e-r-k."

"B-jerk. Well, but I mean, what is your name in English?"

Halfdan looked blank, and blushed to his ears.

"I wish to know," continued the lady energetically, evidently anxious
to help him out, "what your name would mean in plain English. Bjerk, it
certainly must mean something."

"Bjerk is a tree--a birch-tree."

"Very well, Birch,--that is a very respectable name. And your first
name? What did you say that was?

"H-a-l-f-d-a-n."

"Half Dan. Why not a whole Dan and be done with it? Dan Birch, or rather
Daniel Birch. Indeed, that sounds quite Christian."

"As you please, madam," faltered the victim, looking very unhappy.

"You will pardon my straightforwardness, won't you? B-jerk. I could
never pronounce that, you know."

"Whatever may be agreeable to you, madam, will be sure to please me."

"That is very well said. And you will find that it always pays to try to
please me. And you wish to teach music? If you have no objection I will
call my oldest daughter. She is an excellent judge of music, and if
your playing meets with her approval, I will engage you, as my husband
suggests, not to teach Edith, you understand, but my youngest child,
Clara."

Halfdan bowed assent, and Mrs. Van Kirk rustled out into the hall where
she rang a bell, and re-entered. A servant in dress-coat appeared, and
again vanished as noiselessly as he had come. To our Norseman there was
some thing weird and uncanny about these silent entrances and exits;
he could hardly suppress a shudder. He had been accustomed to hear the
clatter of people's heels upon the bare floors, as they ap