s no doubt you already know."

"He has often told me so, and, if I mistake not, has feathered his nest
well by merchanting."

"He has," answered Biarne for himself, with a laugh.

While they thus advanced, talking, little Olaf had kept walking in front
of the tall stranger, looking up into his face with unbounded
admiration. He had never before seen any man so magnificent. His
father and Biarne, whom he had hitherto regarded as perfect specimens of
mankind, were quite eclipsed. Looking backward and walking forward is
an unsafe process at any time. So Olaf found it on the present
occasion, for he tripped over a stone and in falling hit his little nose
with such violence that it soon became a big nose, and bled profusely.

Karlsefin picked him up and set him on his legs. "My poor boy, don't
cry," he said.

"No fear of _him_ crying," observed Leif; "he never cries,--save when
his feelings are hurt. When you touch these he _is_ addicted to
blubbering.--Run, lad, and Gudrid will wash you."

Olaf bounded into the house, where he was carried off to a sleeping-room
and there carefully sponged by the sympathetic Gudrid. "Oh!--" he
exclaimed, while his face was being washed.

"Does it pain you much, dear?" said the pretty aunt, interrupting him.

"Oh!" he continued, enthusiastically, "I never did see such a splendid
man before."

"What splendid man, child?"

"Why, Karlsefin."

"And who is Karlsefin?"

"The stranger who has come across the sea from Norway."

"Indeed," said Gudrid.

Whether it was the sound of the stranger's voice in the adjoining room,
or anxiety to complete her hospitable preparations, that caused Gudrid
to bring her operations on Olaf to an abrupt termination, we cannot
tell, but certain it is that she dried him rather quickly and hastened
into the outer hall, where she was introduced to the two strangers in
due form as widow Gudrid.

She had no difficulty in distinguishing which was Olaf's "splendid man!"
She looked at Karlsefin and fell in love with him on the spot, but
Gudrid was modest, and not sentimental. It is only your mawkishly
sentimental people who are perpetually tumbling into love, and out of
it, and can't help showing it. Cupid shot her right through the heart
with one powerful dart, and took her unawares too, but she did not show
the smallest symptom of having been even grazed. She neither blushed
nor stammered, nor looked conscious, nor affected to look unconscious.