about it! Offense
_was_ meant; but when I found that none was taken, my humor changed."

A slight, half-weary smile played on Errington's lips. "I assure you,
sir," he said, "I agreed with you then and agree with you now in every
word you uttered. You took my measure very correctly, and allow me to
add that no one can be more conscious of my own insignificance that I am
myself. The days we live in are insignificant; the chronicle of our
paltry doings will be skipped by future readers of the country's
history. Among a society of particularly useless men, I feel myself to
be one of the most useless. If you could show me any way to make my life
valuable--"

He paused abruptly, and his heart beat with inexplicable rapidity. A
light step and the rustle of a dress was heard coming through the porch;
another perfumed shower of rose-leaves fell softly on the garden path;
the door of the room opened, and a tall, fair, white-robed figure shone
forth from the dark background of the outer passage; a figure that
hesitated on the threshold, and then advanced noiselessly and with a
reluctant shyness. The old _bonde_ turned round in his chair with a
smile.

"Ah, here she is!" he said fondly. "Where hast thou been, my Thelma?"

CHAPTER VI.

"And Sigurd the Bishop said,
'The old gods are not dead,
For the great Thor still reigns,
And among the Jarls and Thanes
The old witchcraft is spread.'"
LONGFELLOW'S _Saga of King Olaf_.

The girl stood silent, and a faint blush crimsoned her cheeks. The young
men had risen at her entrance, and in one fleeting glance she recognized
Errington, though she gave no sign to that effect.

"See, my darling," continued her father, "here are English visitors to
Norway. This is Sir Philip Errington, who travels through our wild
waters in the great steam yacht now at anchor in the Fjord; and this is
his friend, Mr.--Mr.--Lorimer,--have I caught your name rightly, my
lad?" he continued, turning to George Lorimer with a kindly smile.

"You have, sir," answered that gentleman promptly, and then he was mute,
feeling curiously abashed in the presence of this royal-looking young
lady, who, encircled by her father's arm, raised her deep, dazzling blue
eyes, and serenely bent her stately head to him as his name was
mentioned.

The old farmer went on, "Welcome them, Thelma mine!--friends are scarce
in these days, and we must not be ungrateful fo