time the night before, and had that morning put on her new dress with so much delight, now received her bathed in tears, and without so much as a glance around; she would not go down where the seamen and others were sitting;--she took off her confirmation dress and sat on the bed till night came; to be grown up seemed to her the most unhappy thing that could be.

IV.

ONE AND ANOTHER.

One day after the Confirmation Petra went over to Odegaard's sisters, but she soon saw that this must have been a mistake on his part, for the pastor went by as though he never saw her, and the daughters, both older than Odegaard, received her stiffly. They satisfied themselves with giving a bare account from their brother of what she was now to do. The whole of the forenoon she was to be engaged in household duties at a house in the suburbs of the town, and in the afternoon to go to the sewing school; she was to sleep at home, and take breakfast and supper there.

She acted according to this arrangement, and found it agreeable enough as long as it was new, but afterwards, and especially when summer came, she began to get tired of it, for she had been accustomed in summer to sit up in the forest the whole day long, and had read in her books, which from the depths of her heart she now missed, as she missed Odegaard, as she missed conversation. The consequence was that at last she took it where it was to be found. About this time a young girl entered the sewing school, called Lise Let, i.e. Lise, but not Let; for that was the name of a young cadet, who had been at home one Christmas, and betrothed himself to her on the ice, while she was only a child at school. Lise vowed it was not true, and cried if any one named it; nevertheless, she went by the name of Lise Let. The little, active Lise Let often laughed and often cried; but, whether she laughed or cried, she thought about love. A perfect swarm of new and curious thoughts soon filled the school; if a hand was reached out for the scissors, it was to go a courting, and the scissors said, yes, or gave a refusal. The needle was bethrothed to the thread, and the thread sacrificed herself stitch by stitch to the heartless tyrant; she who pricked her finger, shed her heart's blood, and to change needles was to be unfaithful. If two of the girls whispered together, it was about something remarkable that had happened to them; soon two more began to whisper, and then two again; each one had her confidant, and there were a thousand secrets: it was impossible to stand it.

One afternoon at dusk, in a fine drizzling rain, Petra, with a large handkerchief over her head, stood outside her mother's house, and peeped into the passage, where a young sailor was standing, whistling a waltz. She held the handkerchief together with both her hands tight under her chin, so that only her eyes and nose could be seen, but the sailor saw she was winking at him, and he went quickly out where she stood. "I say, Gunnar, will you go a walk?"--"But it rains!"--"Tut, is that anything!" and so they went to a small house higher up the mountain. "Buy me a few cakes,--those with the icing!"--"You are always wanting cakes."--"With the icing!" He came out again with them; she stuck one hand out from under the handkerchief, took them in, and went on again, eating as she went. When they had got just above the town, she said as she gave him the cake: "I say now, Gunnar! we have always thought so much of each other, we two; I have always liked you better than any other boys! You don't believe it? But I assure you, Gunnar! And now you are second mate and can soon take a ship; it seems to me you should get engaged Gunnar! Dear, why don't you eat the cake?"--"I have begun to chew tobacco."--"Well, what do you say?"--"Oh! there's no hurry for that!"--"No hurry? And you go away day after to-morrow?"--"Yes, but am I not coming back again?"--"But it isn't certain that I shall have time then, and you don't know where I shall be either,"--"It should be to you, then?"--"Yes, Gunnar, you might have understood that, but you were always slow, that was why you were only a sailor, too."--"Oh! I'm not sorry for that, it's quite nice to be a sailor."--"Yes, to be sure,--your mother has ships. But what do you say now? You are so dull!"--"Yes, what shall I say?"--"What shall you say? Ha-ha-ha, perhaps you won't have me!"--"Ah! Petra, you know quite well I will; but I don't think I can trust you."--"Yes, Gunnar, I shall be as true, as true!"--He stood a minute still; "Let me see your face, Petra!"--"What for that?"--"I want to see if you really mean it."--"Do you think I go and trifle with you, Gunnar?" She was vexed and lifted the handkerchief.--"Well, Petra, if it is to be right regular earnest, then give me a kiss upon it, for one knows what that means."--"Have you lost your wits?" She drew the handkerchief over, and went on.--"Stay Petra, stay! You don't understand.--If we are engaged--" "Oh! nonsense with you!"--"Yes, but I know what is customary, and as far as experience goes, I beat you hollow. Remember all that I have seen."--"Yes, you've seen all like a simpleton, and you talk as you've seen."--"What do you mean by being engaged, then, Petra? I may surely ask about that! There's no meaning in running up and down hill after each other!"--"No, that's true enough." She laughed, and stopped. "But listen now, Gunnar! While we stand here and puff--huf!--I'll tell you how lovers do. Every evening as long as you are here, you must wait outside the sewing school and go home with me to the door, and if I am out anywhere else, you must wait in the street till I come. And when you go away, you must write to me, and buy things to send me. To be sure: we must exchange rings, with your name in one and mine in the other, and then the year and the day; but I have no money, so you must buy them both."--"Yes, I'll do that; but--" "Now, what about 'but' again?"--"Good heavens! I only meant I must have the measure of your finger."--"Yes, that you shall have directly;" and she picked up a straw and bit off the measure: "Now don't lose it!" He wrapped it in paper, and put it in his pocket book; she watched him till the pocket book was hidden again. "Let us go now, I'm tired of standing here."--"But, I must say I think it rather flat, Petra!"--"Very well, if you won't, it's all the same to me!"--"Certainly I will, it's not that; but shan't I even so much as get hold of your hand!"--"What for that?"--"As a sign that we're really engaged."--"Such nonsense, does that make it more certain? You can have my hand, anyhow; here it is! No thank you, no squeezing, sir!"--She drew her head within the handkerchief again, then suddenly she lifted the handkerchief with both hands, and her face came full into view. "If you tell any one, Gunnar, I shall say it is not true, so you know!" She laughed, and went on down the hill. A little after, she stopped, and said: "The sewing school will be over to-morrow at nine, so you can go and stand at the foot of the garden."--"Very well."--"Yes, but now you must go!"--"Won't you, then, even give me your hand at parting?"--"I don't know what you are always wanting with my hand,--no, you won't get it now. Good bye!" she cried, and away she sprang.

Next evening she arranged it so, that she was the last at the sewing school. It was nearly ten when she left, but when she had passed through the garden, Gunnar was not there. She had imagined all sorts of misfortunes, but not this; she was so much offended, that she waited, merely to give it him in earnest, when at last he did come. Besides she had good company as she walked up and down; for the merchants' singing club had just begun to practise with open windows, in a house near by, and a Spanish song, that mild evening, lured her thoughts till she was in Spain, and heard her praises