ung lady
seemed to forget him entirely, so much was she occupied with this
encounter and her patterns.

Julle bowed, and said she had seen him before: he had heard Mynster, and
had stood near the chair where she sat; he was dressed in an olive-green
coat.

"Then you are acquainted with each other!" said the lady. "She is the
most pious of all the children. When the others rave about Spindler and
Johanne Schoppenhauer, she raves about the clergyman who confirmed her.
You know my son? He became a student a year before you. He sees you in
the club sometimes."

"There you will have seen him more amiable than you will find him
at home," said Adelaide. "Heaven knows he is not gallant toward his
sisters!"

"Sweet Laide, how can you say so!" cried the mother. "You are always so
unjust toward Hans Peter! When you become better acquainted with him,
Mr. Thostrup, you will like him; he is a really serious young man, of
uncorrupted manners. Do you remember, Laide, how he hissed that evening
in the theatre when they gave that immoral piece? And how angry he is
with that 'Red Riding Hood?' O, the good youth! Besides, in our family,
you will soon meet with an old acquaintance--in a fortnight a lady out
of Jutland will come here. She remains the winter here. Do you not guess
who it is? A little lady from Lemvig!"

"Maren!" exclaimed Otto.

"Yes, truly!" said the lady. "She is said to have such a beautiful
voice!"

"Yes, in Lemvig," remarked Adelaide. "And what a horrible name she has!
We must christen her again, when she comes. She must be called Mara, or
Massa."

"We could call her Massa Carara!" said Grethe.

"No; she shall be called Maja, as in the 'Every-day Tales,'" said
Christiane.

"I am of Jane's opinion!" said the mother. "We will christen her again,
and call her Maja."

CHAPTER XXIII

Men are not always what they seem.--LESSING.

Our tale is no creation of fancy; it is the reality in which we live;
bone of our bone, and flesh of our flesh. Our own time and the men of
our own age we shall see. But not alone will we occupy ourselves with
every-day life, with the moss on the surface; the whole tree, from the
roots to the fragrant leaves, will we observe. The heavy earth shall
press the roots, the moss and bark of every-day life adhere to the
stern, the strong boughs with flowers and leaves spread themselves out,
whilst the sun of poetry shall shine among them, and show the colors,
odor, and singing-bi