ght in a long plait. Neither of them spoke. He could see her face
in the glass, and saw that her eyes were watching him, with a soft,
mysterious glance--the scent of her hair seemed to fill the place with
youth.

She turned round towards him and smiled. And he lay still, beckoning her
towards him with shining eyes. All that had passed that evening--their
outing, and the homeward journey in the violet dusk, their little feast,
and his story, the wine--all had turned to love in their hearts, and
shone out now in their smile.

It may be that some touch of the cold breath of the eternities was still
in their minds, the remembrance of the millions on millions that die,
the flight of the aeons towards endless darkness; yet in spite of all,
the minutes now to come, their warm embrace, held a whole world of
bliss, that out-weighed all, and made Peer, as he lay there, long to
send out a hymn of praise into the universe, because it was so wonderful
to live.

He began to understand why she lingered and took so long. It was a sign
that she wanted to surprise him, that her heart was kind. And her light
breathing seemed even now to fill the room with love.

Outside in the night the lake-ice, splitting into new crevices, sent up
loud reports; and the winter sky above the roof that sheltered them was
lit with all its stars.

Chapter VI

For the next few years Peer managed his estate and his workshop, without
giving too much of his time to either. He had his bailiff and his
works-manager, and the work went on well enough in its accustomed
grooves. If anyone had asked him what he actually did himself all the
time, he would have found it hard to answer. He seemed to be going
round gathering up something not clearly defined. There was something
wanting--something missed that now had to be made good. It was not
knowledge now, but life--life in his native land, the life of youth,
that he reached out to grasp. The youth in him, that had never had free
play in the years of early manhood, lay still dammed up, and had to find
an outlet.

There were festive gatherings at Loreng. Long rows of sleighs drove in
the winter evenings up from the town and back again. Tables were spread
and decked with glass and flowers, the rooms were brightly lit, and
the wine was good. And sometimes in the long moonlit nights respectable
citizens would be awakened by noisy mirth in the streets of the little
town, and, going to the window in their night-