CHAPTER IV

SUNNA AND HER GRANDFATHER

Love is rich in his own right,
He is heir of all the spheres,
In his service day and night,
Swing the tides and roll the years.
What has he to ask of fate?
Crown him; glad or desolate.

Time puts out all other flames,
But the glory of his eyes;
His are all the sacred names,
His are all the mysteries.
Crown him! In his darkest day
He has Heaven to give away!
--CARL SPENCER.

Arms are fair,
When the intent for bearing them is just.

In the meantime Sunna was spending the evening with her grandfather.
The old gentleman was reading, but she did not ask him to read aloud,
she knew by the look and size of the book that it would not be
interesting; and she was well pleased when one of her maids desired
to speak with her.

"Well then, Vera, what is thy wish?"

"My sister was here and she was bringing me some strange news. About
Mistress Brodie she was talking."

"Yes, I heard she had come home. Did she bring Thora Ragnor a new
Easter gown?"

"Of a gown I heard nothing. It was a young man she brought! O so
beautiful is he! And like an angel he sings! The Bishop was very
friendly with him, and the Ragnors, also; but they, indeed! they are
friendly with all kinds of people."

"This beautiful young man, is he staying with the Ragnors?"

"With Mistress Brodie he is staying, and with her he went to dinner at
the Ragnors'. And the Bishop was there and the young man was singing,
and a great deal was made of his singing, also they were speaking of
his father who is a famous preacher in some Edinburgh kirk, and----"

"These things may be so, but how came thy sister to know them?"

"This morning my sister took work with Mistress Ragnor and she was
waiting on them as they eat; and in and out of the room until nine
o'clock. Then, as she went to her own home, she called on me and we
talked of the matter, and it seemed to my thought that more might come
of it."

"Yes, no doubt. I shall see that more does come of it. I am well
pleased with thee for telling me."

Then she went back to her grandfather and resumed her knitting. Anon,
she began to sing. Her face was flushed and her nixie eyes were
dancing to the mischief she contemplated. In a few minutes the old
gentleman lifted his head, and looked at her. "Sunna," he said, "thy
song and thy singing are charming, but they fit not the book I am
read