idence he
had placed in them, and the most entire acquiescence with his will.

No one spoke, however, till "the little one"--the father had not said to
her, "Go out for awhile, Gabriele dear;" "Let her stop with us," he
said, on the contrary, "she is a prudent little girl!"--no, none spoke
till Gabriele threw her arms about her mother's neck, and exclaimed,
"Ah, don't let us go away from here--here we are so happy!"

This exclamation was echoed by all.

"Well, then, here we remain, in God's name!" said the Judge, rising up
and extending his arms, with tears in his eyes, towards the beloved
circle. "Here we remain, children! But this shall not prevent your
seeing Stockholm, and enjoying its pleasures and beauties! I thank God,
my children, that you are happy here; it makes me so, too. Do you
understand that?"

* * * * *

On this day, for the first time after a long interval, Leonore dined
with the family. Everybody rejoiced on that account; and as her
countenance had a brighter and more kindly expression than common,
everybody thought her pretty. Eva, who had directed and assisted her
toilet, rejoiced over her from the bottom of her heart.

"Don't you see, Leonore," said she, pointing up to heaven, where light
blue openings were visible between clouds, which for the greater part of
the day had poured down rain--"don't you see it is clearing up, Leonore?
and then we will go out together, and gather flowers and fruit." And as
she said this her blue eyes beamed with kindness and the enjoyment of
life.

* * * * *

"What, in all the world, are these doing here?" asked Henrik, as he saw
his mother's shoes standing in the window in the pale sunshine; "they
ought to be warmed, I fancy, and the sun has no desire to come out and
do his duty. No, in this case, I shall undertake to be sun!"

"That you are to me, my summer-child!" said the mother, smiling
affectionately as she saw Henrik had placed her shoes under his
waistcoat, to warm them on his breast.

* * * * *

"My sweet Louise!" exclaimed Jacobi, "you can't think what lovely
weather it is! Should we not take a little walk? You come with us? You
look most charming--but, in heaven's name, not in the Court-preacher!"

FOOTNOTES:

[15] Thomas Thorild, born 1759, died 1808, an eminent Swedish poet.

PART III.

CHAPTER I.

LEONORE TO EVA.

"And so you are comi