till summer in the air.

"Ugh! how impossibly fast you walk," exclaimed Merle, stopping out of
breath.

And when they came to a gate they sat down in the grass by the wayside.
Below them was the town, with its many roofs and chimneys standing out
against the shining lake, that lay framed in broad stretches of farm and
field.

"Do you know how it came about that mother is--as she is?" asked Merle
suddenly.

"No. I didn't like to ask you about it."

She drew a stalk of grass between her lips.

"Well, you see--mother's father was a clergyman. And when--when father
forbade her to go to church, she obeyed him. But she couldn't sleep
after that. She felt--as if she had sold her soul."

"And what did your father say to that?"

"Said it was hysteria. But, hysteria or not, mother couldn't sleep. And
at last they had to take her away to a home."

"Poor soul!" said Peer, taking the girl's hand.

"And when she came back from there she was so changed, one would hardly
have known her. And father gave way a little--more than he ever used to
do--and said: 'Well, well, I suppose you must go to church if you wish,
but you mustn't mind if I don't go with you.' And so one Sunday she took
my hand and we went together, but as we reached the church door, and
heard the organ playing inside, she turned back. 'No--it's too late
now,' she said. 'It's too late, Merle.' And she has never been since."

"And she has always been--strange--since then?"

Merle sighed. "The worst of it is she sees so many evil things
compassing her about. She says the only thing to do is to laugh them
away. But she can't laugh herself. And so I have to. But when I go away
from her--oh! I can't bear to think of it."

She hid her face against his shoulder, and he began stroking her hair.

"Tell me, Peer"--she looked up with her one-sided smile--"who is
right--mother or father?"

"Have you been trying to puzzle that out?"

"Yes. But it's so hopeless--so impossible to come to any sort of
certainty. What do you think? Tell me what you think, Peer."

They sat there alone in the golden autumn day, her head pressed against
his shoulder. Why should he play the superior person and try to put her
off with vague phrases?

"Dear Merle, I know, of course, no more than you do. There was a time
when I saw God standing with a rod in one hand and a sugar-cake in the
other--just punishment and rewards to all eternity. Then I thrust Him
from me, because He seemed to m