o end of things--but a woman cannot
dance by herself, and so there was no dancing at Sellanraa. Heavy
thoughts and books of devotion? Ay, well.... But there's something,
Heaven knows, in the other sort of life, something splendid and
unequalled. She has learned to make do with little; the Swedish
stoneworkers are something, at any rate; strange faces and new voices
about the place, but they are quiet, elderly men, given to work
rather than play. Still, better than nothing--and one of them sings
beautifully at his work; Inger stops now and again to listen. Hjalmar
is his name.

And that is not all the trouble at Sellanraa. There is Eleseus, for
instance--a disappointment there. He had written to say that his place
in the engineer's office was no longer open, but he was going to
get another all right--only wait. Then came another letter; he was
expecting something to turn up very shortly, a first-rate post; but
meantime, he could not live on nothing at all, and when they sent him
a hundred-_Krone_ note from home, he wrote back to say it was just
enough to pay off some small debts he had.... "H'm," said Isak. "But
we've these stoneworker folk to pay, and a deal of things ... write
and ask if he wouldn't rather come back here and lend a hand."

And Inger wrote, but Eleseus did not care about coming home again; no,
no sense in making another journey all to no purpose; he would rather
starve.

Well, perhaps there was no first-rate post vacant just then in the
city, and Eleseus, perhaps, was not as sharp as a razor in pushing his
way. Heaven knows--perhaps he wasn't over clever at his work either.
Write? ay, he could write well enough, and quick and hard-working
maybe, but there might be something lacking for all that. And if so,
what was to become of him?

When he arrived from home with his two hundred _Kroner_, the city was
waiting for him with old accounts outstanding, and when those were
paid, well, he had to get a proper walking-stick, and not the remains
of an umbrella. There were other little things as well that were but
reasonable--a fur cap for the winter, like all his companions wore,
a pair of skates to go on the ice with as others did, a silver
toothpick, which was a thing to clean one's teeth, and play with
daintily when chatting with friends over a glass of this or that. And
as long as he had money, he stood treat as far as he was able; at a
festive evening held to celebrate his return to town, he ordered ha