hat pale, seated herself silently on the sofa, and seemed to be
thinking sorrowfully how often anxious, dispiriting days succeed the
cheerful morning of a betrothal. Whether it was from these thoughts, or
that Mrs. Gunilla really felt herself unwell, we know not, but she
became paler and paler. Gabriele went out to fetch her a glass of water,
and as she opened the door ran against the Assessor, who was just then
entering.

With a little cry of surprise she recovered from this unexpected shock.
He looked at her with an astonished countenance, and the next moment was
surrounded by the other young people.

"Now, see, see! what is all this?" exclaimed he; "why do you overwhelm
me thus? Cannot one move any longer in peace? I am not going to dance,
Monsieur Henricus! Do not split my ears, Miss Petrea! What? betrothed!
What? Who? Our eldest? Body and bones! let me sit down and take a pinch
of snuff. Our eldest betrothed! that is dreadful! Usch!--usch! that is
quite frightful! uh, uh, uh, uh! that is actually horrible! Hu, u, u,
hu!"

The Assessor took snuff, and blew his nose for a good while, during
which the family, who knew his way so well, laughed heartily, with the
exception of Louise, who reddened, and was almost angry at his
exclamations, especially at that of horrible.

"Nay," said he, rising up and restoring the snuff-box again to his
pocket, "one must be contented with what cannot be helped. What is
written is written. And, as the Scripture says, blessed are they who
increase and multiply the incorrigible human race, so, in heaven's name,
good luck to you! Good luck and blessing, dear human beings!" And thus
saying, he heartily shook the hands of Jacobi and Louise, who returned
his hand-pressure with kindness, although not quite satisfied with the
form of his good wishes.

"Never in all my life," said Henrik, "did I hear a less cheerful
congratulation. Mrs. Gunilla and good Uncle Munter to-day might be in
melancholy humour: but now they are sitting down by each other, and we
may hope that after they have had a comfortable quarrel together, they
will cheer up a little."

But no; no quarrel ensued this evening between the two. The Assessor had
tidings to announce to her which appeared difficult for him to
communicate, and which filled her eyes with tears--Pyrrhus was dead!

"He was yesterday quite well," said the Assessor, "and licked my hand as
I bade him good night. To-day he took his morning coffee with a go