d asked Louise to go with him to the theatre.
The young girl blushed red with joy, and Peer could not refuse; but he
was waiting for them outside the yard gate when they came back. On a
Sunday soon after Klaus was there again, asking her to come out for a
drive. This time she did not even look to Peer for leave, but said "yes"
at once. "Just you wait," said Peer to himself. And when she came back
that evening he read her a terrific lecture.

Soon he could not help seeing that the girl was going about with
half-shut eyes, dreaming dreams of which she would never speak to
him. And as the days went on her hands grew whiter, and she moved more
lightly, as if to the rhythm of unheard music. Always as she went about
the room on her household tasks she was crooning some song; it seemed
that there was some joy in her soul that must find an outlet.

One Saturday in the late spring she had just come home, and was getting
the supper, when Peer came tramping in, dressed in his best and carrying
a parcel.

"Hi, girl! Here you are! We're going to have a rare old feast to-night."

"Why--what is it all about?"

"I've passed my entrance exam for the Technical--hurrah! Next
autumn--next autumn--I'll be a student!"

"Oh, splendid! I AM so glad!" And she dried her hand and grasped his.

"Here you are--sausages, anchovies--and here's a bottle of brandy--the
first I ever bought in my life. Klaus is coming up later on to have a
glass of toddy. And here's cheese. We'll make things hum to-night."

Klaus came, and the two youths drank toddy and smoked and made speeches,
and Louise played patriotic songs on her violin, and Klaus gazed at her
and asked for "more--more."

When he left, Peer went with him, and as the two walked down the street,
Klaus took his friend's arm, and pointed to the pale moon riding high
above the fjord, and vowed never to give him up, till he stood at the
very top of the tree--never, never! Besides, he was a Socialist now, he
said, and meant to raise a revolt against all class distinctions. And
Louise--Louise was the most glorious girl in all the world--and now--and
now--Peer might just as well know it sooner as later--they were as good
as engaged to be married, he and Louise.

Peer pushed him away, and stood staring at him. "Go home now, and go to
bed," he said.

"Ha! You think I'm not man enough to defy my people--to defy the whole
world!"

"Good-night," said Peer.

Next morning, as Louise lay in bed--she