LITMIR.BIZ

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I have met him. He is the third one of our authors I have met. No doubt it is my fault; but, to tell the truth, none of them have made an overwhelming impression on me."

      "No? That is because you do not know them well enough."

      "But I know what they have written. It seems to me they do not exactly soar to the solitary heights. It is probably my own fault, though—Lars Paulsberg uses perfumes."

      "Does he? A little peculiarity. One must pardon such men a few oddities."

      "But I notice that they treat each other with the greatest respect," Coldevin continued. "They talk about everything; they make excellent speeches on every subject imaginable."

      "Don't they, though? It is wonderful to listen to them, I must say."

      "But how are you getting on—in the business, I mean?"

      "Oh, we take one day at a time. We have just turned a little trick in Brazil which I hope will prove satisfactory. I remember, you are interested in business matters. When you come down tomorrow I will take you around and show you how we do it. We will all go—you and Aagot and myself—we three old friends."

      "I thought I heard my name?" said Aagot merrily and joined them. "Yes, I did; don't try to fool me, Ole. It seems to me it is my turn to speak a little with Coldevin; you have had him to yourself long enough, Ole."

      And she took Ole's chair and sat down.

      "The letters from home are full of questions about you. Mamma asked me to see that you were comfortable at your hotel."

      Coldevin's lips quivered again, and he said, with his eyes on the floor:

      "How can you bother with such things now? Don't worry about me; I am very comfortable. I hope you are enjoying yourself? Though I hardly need to ask you that."

      "But, do you know, there are times when I am longing for home, too. Can you understand that?"

      "That is only the first few days—It will be a little hard never to see you again, Miss Aagot—I mean a little—that is—"

      "You talk so strangely to-night," she said. "You almost make me want to cry; honestly you do."

      "But, dear Miss Aagot—"

      "To get married isn't the same as to die, I'm sure."

      Coldevin's manner instantly changed; he became jocular.

      "Die! Well, I like that! But you are right in saying that I have been sitting here and depressing you with my talk. It was mostly your mother I was thinking of. It was nobody else—Tell me, have you finished the cushions for the yacht?"

      "Yes," answered Aagot absently.

      "But you have not been in Parliament yet? I imagine you have hardly had time for that as yet. I have been there every day; but then I haven't anything else to do."

      "Listen," she said suddenly; "I may not have an opportunity to bid you good night later, so I will do it now." She gave him her hand. "And remember, you have promised to call to-morrow! I—You will make me very happy if you come."

      She dropped his hand and got up.

      He sat there a moment as in a trance. He heard somebody say: "What can Miss Aagot and Coldevin be so deeply absorbed in?" He heard that Aagot was on the point of answering, and he exclaimed hurriedly:

      "I shake hands with Miss Aagot on a promise to call on her to-morrow."

      "Be sure and keep your promise, now," he heard Ole say. "Well, Aagot, I suppose we ought to be getting home."

      Ole put his hand in his pocket to pay the waiter; the Journalist did the same, but Milde seized his arm and said:

      "Leave that to Ole Henriksen. Kindly pay for us, too, Ole."

      "With pleasure."

      At the door Lars Paulsberg caught up with him and said:

      "Don't go away without giving me the opportunity of shaking hands with you. I hear you could lend me these rotten crowns."

      Ole and Aagot went. A little later Coldevin got up, too; he bowed to each of the clique and departed. He heard laughter behind his back and the word "phenomenon" several times. He hurried into the first gateway he passed and took out from his pocketbook a little silken bow, in the Norwegian colours, carefully wrapped in paper. He kissed the bow, looked at it a long time, and kissed it again, trembling in the grip of a silent, deep emotion.

      IV

      It was Ole Henriksen's habit to make his rounds through the business establishment immediately after his early morning coffee. He was an early riser and had usually accomplished a great deal before breakfast, inspected store and cellars, read and answered mail, telegraphed, given instructions to his clerks; everything devolved upon him. Aagot kept him company nowadays; she insisted on getting up as early as he, and her little hands lightened many a task for him. Ole Henriksen worked more enthusiastically than ever. The old man did nothing nowadays but make out an occasional bill and balance up the cash-book; he kept to himself up-stairs most of the time, and spent many an hour in the company of some old crony, some visiting ship's captain or business acquaintance. But before retiring old Henriksen always lit a lamp, shambled down-stairs to the office, and took a last survey of the books. He took his time; and when he came up about midnight he retired immediately.

      Ole did the work for both of them; it was like play to him to direct all these threads which he knew from the days of childhood. Aagot did not disturb him much; it was only down in the little warehouse office that she was apt to delay him at times. Her youth and gaiety filled the little room, glorified everything, and brightened the world.

      She was so cheerful that she carried away even the phlegmatic Ole. He was lost in her; he played little tricks on her and trembled with the tenderest affection for this hoydenish girl who wasn't even full grown. When in the company of others he appeared vastly superior—she was his little sweetheart; she was so young, much younger than he, it was up to him to display his knowledge and experience. But when they were alone, alas! then he could not keep up this pretence; he lost his seriousness and was a child with her. He stole many a glance from his books and papers, gazed at her secretly, lost in contemplation of her radiant figure and worshipping to distraction her dimpling smile. How she could make his heart pound when she would glance archly at him and then come over to him and whisper: "So you are my boy, are you?" She had so many adorable ways. At times she could sit and gaze at the floor, gaze fixedly at something which made her eyes dewy—memories, perhaps—some old memory—

      Ole asked her at last when she thought they ought to get married, and when he saw her blush deeply, even to her neck, he regretted that he had been too abrupt. There was no hurry; she must decide that herself; no need to answer now, not at all.

      But she answered:

      "I am ready when you are."

      There was a knock at the door and Irgens entered. He came in order to propose a visit to the sculpture-gallery. Ole said jestingly:

      "I see! You have chosen this hour because you knew I couldn't come along!"

      "What nonsense! We have to go when the galleries are open, naturally."

      Ole laughed loudly.

      "Look, he is getting mad, furious, ha, ha, ha! I fooled you that time, Irgens!"

      Aagot got her hat and coat and went with Irgens. Ole called after her:

      "Don't stay too late, Aagot! Remember, we have promised to go with Tidemand to Tivoli."

      On the street Irgens glanced at his watch and said:

      "I see it is a little too early yet. If you have no objections we might take a walk up toward the Castle."

      And they walked toward the Castle. The band played; people strolled up and down. Irgens talked again interestingly and facetiously about

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