ime. You know we
have been boy and girl together. My absence at school has made no
difference in me. I wish you could think a little of me, Signe."

"Hr. Bogstad, I don't believe in deceiving anyone. I am sorry that you
have been thinking like that about me, because I cannot think of you
other than as a friend. Let us not talk about it."

If Henrik could not talk about that nearest his heart, he would remain
silent, which he did.

Signe was gathering some rare ferns and mosses when Hansine's _lur_
sounded through the hills. That was the signal for them, as well as the
cows, to come home.

Early the next morning Hansine's brother came up to the _saeter_ to take
home the week's accumulation of butter and cheese. Signe, perched on the
top of the two-wheeled cart, was also going home. Hr. Bogstad, mounted
on his horse, accompanied them a short distance, then rode off in
another direction.

V.

"Can two walk together, except they be agreed?"--_Amos 3:3_

It was nearly noon when Signe Dahl sprang from the cart, and with her
bundle under her arm, ran down the hillside into the woods, following a
well-beaten trail. That was the short cut home. Hans had found her poor
company during the ride, and even now, alone in the woods, the serious
countenance was loth to relax. A ten minutes' walk brought her to the
brow of a hill, and she sauntered down its sloping side. Signe had
nearly reached home, and being doubtful of her reception there, she
lingered. Then, too, she could usually amuse herself alone, for she
always found some new wonder in the exhaustless beauty of her
surroundings.

She threw herself on a green bank, and this is the picture which she
saw: Just before her, the greensward extended down to a lake, whose
waters lost themselves behind cliffs and islands and pine-clad hills.
Here and there in the distance towards the north, there could be seen
shining spots of water; but towards the south the hills closed in
precipitously, and left room only for the outlet of the lake to pour
over its rocky bed into another valley below. On the farther shore, five
miles distant, a few red farm houses stood out from the plats of
green--all the rest was forest and rock. The sky was filled with soft,
fleecy clouds, and not a breath stirred the surface of the lake. Signe
gazed towards a rocky island before her. Only the roof of the house
upon it could be seen, but from its chimney arose no smoke. That was
where Signe ha