ur little meeting," added Frans, with mock
politeness. "I hope it has been profitable to all parties."

Alma compelled herself to keep silence, and to respond pleasantly to
the thanks of Pelle and Nono for what they called "the nice lesson."
They neither of them understood that they had been the teachers, and
the fair, slight girl their humble and abashed pupil.

Alma took her Bible in her hand, and went into the house to send a
servant for the great album that lay on the stone table. She sat down
in her room in a most disturbed frame of mind, ashamed of her first
effort as a teacher, and irritated that Nono should have come under the
very influence she would have most dreaded for him, even that of her
own brother.

Then came a voice from below gently calling "Alma." The loving part of
her nature at once took the upper hand, and the fond daughter went down
to her father, ready to do anything he could ask of her for his joy or
comfort.

CHAPTER VIII.

IN ALMA'S ROOM.

The day after the Bible lesson Alma threw herself heartily into her
plan for her parterre, at which Pelle and Nono were busily working. In
the midst of a large velvet patch of closely-cut grass she had a great
parallelogram marked out which was to represent the Swedish flag. The
blue ground was to be of the old Emperor William's favourite flower,
while the cross stretching from end to end was to be of yellow pansies.
The Norwegian union mark in the corner was to be outlined in poppies of
the proper colours.

There was a slight twinkle in the old man's eyes as he watched Alma,
all enthusiasm, flitting hither and thither, and ordering and planning
like an experienced general, while it was plain to Pelle that she was
as yet but a novice in the mysteries of gardening. He did venture to
hint modestly that it was late--the middle of July--to begin such an
undertaking. Alma took no notice of his discouraging hints, but went
on expatiating as to how charming it would be to have the Swedish flag
lying there on the green grass, and how her father would enjoy it,
loving his country as he did, and being a real soldier himself. A
soldier the colonel certainly was by profession; but he had had other
enemies to meet than the foes of his native land. He had struggled
long with sorrow and ill-health, his constant portion. Exiled from
Sweden for the sake of his delicate wife, and that he himself might be
under the care of eminent physicians who under