en up
to dissipation, for all friends and acquaintance would see and entertain
the two young people. Mrs. Gunilla gave them a dinner, in which she
communicated to them that she should, at the same time with them,
journey to Stockholm, where important affairs would oblige her to stay a
considerable time. However much it grieved Elise to lose so excellent
and almost motherly a friend, she rejoiced very much over what Louise
and Jacobi would win thereby. Louise and Mrs. Gunilla, it is true, had
not perfectly harmonised together, because each would instruct the
other; but Jacobi and she agreed all the better, and she had already
invited the young people to dine with her as often as they would in
Stockholm.

In the hour of parting she spoke thus to Elise and her husband with
tears in her eyes: "Who knows when we may meet again? The old woman is
in years--is not of much more use in the world--na, na! Our Lord will
care for her as he has hitherto done! And listen," continued she with an
arch, roguish air, "don't be uneasy on account of the young folks;--I
shall see that it all goes on right there. I invite myself as sponsor to
the first child. Perhaps we shall meet then! Yes, yes, I have a
presentiment that we shall see one another again in Stockholm! Nay! now
farewell, dear Elise! God bless you, my kind friends, and make all go
well with you! Think of the old woman sometimes! Adieu!"

* * * * *

After the trouble of the packing was over--we mean packing Louise's
things, of course--and the still sorrow of parting, quiet returned back
into the house, and was only agreeably interrupted by preparations for
the journey to the West. The Judge seemed at this time to be young
again, and an increased union of heart showed itself between him and his
wife. So wear away, sometimes, the most beautiful summer days, even
after the autumn has made advances into the year. From what cause is
this? God knows.

The invisible genius of our history leads us at this moment far from the
home of peace to a distant shore, in order to give us a glimpse
into--the subject of our next chapter.

CHAPTER XVI.

A SICK CHAMBER.

If the sun shine on the head of the crucified, if a bird lift up its
joyous song in presence of a broken heart, it seems to us cruel. But
beautiful is the unconscious irony of nature in comparison with that
which exists in human circumstances. We have here an example of this
before us.