he meant the last with him; for he would certainly watch over her still, though through others. She, however, remained seated where she was, the blood left her veins, her eyes remained fixed, and involuntarily moved, he hastened to give a reason: "It is not all young girls that are grown up at their confirmation; but you must be aware that it is so with you." If she had stood in the glare of a great fire, she could not have been more fiery red than she became at these words; her bosom heaved, her eyes took a vague expression and filled with tears, and driven further he hastened to say: "We may perhaps still go on?" He did not until after realise what he had proposed; he was wrong, he must retract it; but her eyes were already lifted towards him. She did not answer "yes" with her lips, but more plainly it could not be said. To excuse himself in his own eyes, by finding a pretext, he asked: "There will be something you would especially like to do now, something you--" he bent down towards her--"feel a calling to, Petra?"--"No," she replied so quickly that he coloured, and as if chilled, fell back into the considerations which for years had occupied his mind; her unexpected reply had recalled them.

That she was possessed of some peculiar qualities, he had never doubted from the time she was a child, and he saw her march singing at the head of the street boys; but the longer he taught her, the less he felt to understand her talent. It was present in every movement; what she thought, what she wished, mind and body simultaneously made known in the fulness of power, and the light of beauty, but put in words, and especially in writing, it is only child-like simplicity. She appeared all imagination, but he perceived in it especially a feeling of unrest. She was very earnest, but she read more to go on than to learn; what could be on the other side occupied her most. She had religious feeling, but as the pastor expressed it, "no turn for a religious life," and Odegaard was often anxious about her. Now that he was at the closing point, his thoughts involuntarily reverted to the stone step where he had received her; he heard the mother's sharp voice leaving the responsibility with him, because he had used the name of Our Lord. After pacing a few times up and down he collected himself: "I am going abroad, now," he said with a certain shyness, "I have asked my sister to care for you in my absence, and when I return we will try again. Farewell! We shall meet again before I go!" he went so quickly into the next room, that she could not even shake hands with him.

She saw him again where she had least expected it, in the pastor's pew beside the choir, just in front of her as she stepped forth with the others to be confirmed. This so affected her, that her thoughts flew far away from the holy act, for which, in humility and prayer, she had prepared herself. Yes, if that was Odegaard's old father, he stopped and looked long at his son, as he stepped forth to begin. Soon Petra was once more to be startled in church, for a little below sat Pedro Ohlsen in prim new clothes; he was just stretching his neck to catch a glimpse of her over the heads of the boys; he soon bobbed down, but she saw him repeatedly stick up his thin-haired head to bob again. This distracted her, she did not wish to look, but she did look, and there,--just as the others were all deeply moved, many in tears,--she was terrified to see him rise up with stiff open mouth and transfixed eyes, without power to sit down or move, for opposite him, stretched to her full height, stood Gunlaug; Petra shuddered to see her, she was white as the altar cloth. Her black crimpy hair seemed to rise up, while her eyes got suddenly a repulsive power, as though they said: "Away from her, what have you to do with her?" Under this look he sank down upon the form, and a minute after stole out of church.

After this Petra felt composed, and the further the rite proceeded the more fully she entered into it. And when, after having given her promise, she turned round and looked through her tears at Odegaard, as the one who stood nearest to her good intentions, she resolved in her heart that she would not put his hopes to shame. The steadfast eye that looked expressively in return seemed to entreat her for the same, but when she had taken her place and would find him again, he was gone. She soon went home with her mother, who on the way let fall these words: "I have done my part;--now may Our Lord do His!"

When they had dined together, they two alone, the mother said as she rose: "Now we may as well go to him,--the pastor's son. Though I don't know what it will lead to that he does, he surely means it well. Put on your things again, child!"

The road to church which they two had so often trodden, lay above the town, but through the street they had never before walked together; indeed the mother had scarcely been there since she had come back to the place, but she would now go the whole length with her grown up daughter!

On the afternoon of a confirmation Sunday, such a little town is all on the move, either going from house to house to congratulate, or in the street to see and to be seen; there is a salutation and halting at every step, a shaking of hands, and interchanging of good wishes: the poor children appear in the cast-off clothes of the rich, and are paraded forth to return their thanks. The sailors in their foreign pageantry, with the hat upon three hairs; and the fops, the merchants, clerks, walked in groups, bowing to all as they passed. The half-grown up lads of the Latin school, each arm in arm with his best friend in the world, sauntered after in rash criticism; but to-day every one in his own mind must yield the palm to the lion of the place, the young merchant, the wealthiest man in the town, Yngve Vold, just returned from Spain, all in trim to take charge on the morrow of his mother's extensive fish trade. With a light hat over his light hair, he strolled through the streets; every one bade him welcome, he spoke to all, smiled to all; so the young people who had just been confirmed were almost forgotten;--backwards and forwards one might see the light hat over the light hair, and hear the light laughter. When Petra and her mother entered the street, he was the first they stumbled upon, and as if they had in reality stumbled against him, he started back before Petra, whom he did not recognise.

She had grown tall, not as tall as the mother but above the average height, easy, elegant, and fearless, the mother and not the mother inconstant interchange. The young merchant, who walked along behind them, could no longer attract the attention of the passers-by; the two, mother and daughter, were a more striking sight. They walked quickly, without noticing any one, for they were seldom greeted except by seamen; they soon returned more quickly still, for they had heard that Odegaard had just left home for the steamer and would soon be gone. Petra was in great haste; she must, she must indeed see him and thank him before he went; it was wrong of him to leave her thus! She saw none of all those who were looking at her; it was the smoke from the steamer she saw over the roofs of the houses, and it seemed to be getting further away. When they came to the quay, the boat had just left, and, with sobs in her throat, she hastened further up the walk; indeed she more sprang than walked, and the mother strode after. As the steamer had taken some minutes to turn in the harbour, she was just in time to spring down on the wharf, get up on a stone, and wave her pocket handkerchief. The mother remained on the walk, and would not go down; Petra waved--waved higher and higher, but there was no one who waved again.

Then she could bear it no longer; she could not restrain her tears, and was obliged to return home by the higher path; the mother followed, but in silence. The attic which her mother had prepared for her, and where she had slept for the first