LITMIR.BIZ

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      His lips parted but he could not speak; he did not know which way to turn.

      "Do you hear me?"

      "Yes—Have you been sick, perhaps? You haven't been out for two weeks now; of course, I don't know that you haven't, but—"

      His helpless words, his wretched embarrassment, moved her; her anger died down, she was again on the verge of tears, and, deeply humiliated, she said:

      "Dear Coldevin, forgive me!"

      She asked him to forgive her! He did not know what to say to this, but answered abstractedly:

      "Forgive you? We won't speak about that—But why are you crying? I wish I hadn't met you—"

      "But I am glad I met you," she said. "I wanted to meet you; I think of you always, but I never see you—I long for you often."

      "Well, we won't speak about that, Miss Aagot. You know we have settled our affair. I can only wish you every happiness, every possible happiness."

      Coldevin had apparently regained his self-control; he commenced even to speak about indifferent matters: Was not this a fearful storm? God knew how the ships on the high seas were faring!

      She listened and answered. His composure had its effect on her, and she said quietly:

      "So you are still in the city. I shall not ask you to come and see me; that would be useless. Ole and I both wanted to ask you to come with us on a little excursion, but you could not be found."

      "I have seen Mr. Henriksen since then. I explained that I was engaged that Sunday anyway. I was at a party, a little dinner—So everything is well with you?"

      "Yes, thanks."

      Again she was seized with fear. What if he had been in the park and seen everything? She said as indifferently as she could: "See how the trees are swaying in the park! I suppose, though, there must be sheltered places inside."

      "In the park? I don't know. I haven't been there—But your escort is waiting for you; isn't it Irgens?"

      Thank God, she was saved! He had not been in the park. She heard nothing else. Irgens was getting tired of this waiting, but she did not care. She turned again to Coldevin.

      "So you have seen Ole since the excursion? I wonder why he hasn't mentioned it to me."

      "Oh, he cannot remember everything. He has a lot to think of, Miss Aagot; a great deal. He is at the head of a big business; I was really surprised when I saw how big it is. Wonderful! A man like him must be excused if he forgets a little thing like that. If you would permit me to say a word, he loves you better than anybody else! He—Please remember that! I wanted so much to say this to you!"

      These few words flew straight to her heart. In a flash she saw the image of Ole, and she exclaimed joyously:

      "Yes, it is true! Oh, when I think of everything—I am coming!" she called to Irgens and waved her hand at him.

      She said good-bye to Coldevin and left him.

      She seemed to be in a great hurry; she asked Irgens to pardon her for having kept him waiting, but she walked on rapidly.

      "Why this sudden haste?" he asked.

      "Oh, I must get home. What a nasty wind!"

      "Aagot!"

      She shot him a swift glance; his voice had trembled; she felt a warm glow throughout her being. No, she couldn't make herself colder than she was; her eyes drooped again and she leaned toward him; her arm brushed his sleeve.

      He spoke her name again with infinite tenderness, and she yielded.

      "Give me a little time, please! Whatever shall I do? I will love you if you will only let me alone now."

      He was silent.

      Finally they reached the last crossing. Ole Henriksen's house could be seen in the distance. The sight of that house seemed to bring her to her senses. Whatever could she have said? Had she promised anything? No, no, nothing! And she said with averted eyes:

      "That which has happened to-day—your having kissed me—I regret it; God knows I do! I grieve over it—"

      "Then pronounce the sentence!" he answered briskly.

      "No, I cannot punish you, but I give you my hand in promise that I will tell Ole if you ever dare do that again."

      And she gave him her hand.

      He took it, pressed it; he bent over it, and kissed it repeatedly, defiantly, right below her own windows. Covered with confusion, she finally succeeded in opening the door and escaping up the stairs.

      V

      Ole Henriksen received a telegram which hastened his departure for London. For twenty-four hours he worked like a slave to get through—wrote and arranged, called at the banks, instructed his clerks, gave orders to his chief assistant, who was to be in charge during his absence. The Hull steamer was loading; it was to sail in a couple of hours. Ole Henriksen did not have any too much time.

      Aagot went with him from place to place, sad and faithful. She was labouring under suppressed emotion. She did not say a word so as not to disturb him, but she looked at him all the time with moist eyes. They had arranged that she should go home the next morning on the first train.

      Old Henriksen shuffled back and forth, quiet and silent; he knew that his son needed to hurry. Every once in a while a man would come up from the dock with reports from the steamer; now there was only a shipment of whale-oil to load, then she would start. It would take about three-quarters of an hour. At last Ole was ready to say farewell. Aagot only had to put on her wraps; she would stay with him to the last.

      "What are you thinking of, Aagot?"

      "Oh, nothing. But I wish you were well back again, Ole."

      "Silly little girl! I am only going to London," he said, forcing a gaiety he did not feel. "Don't you worry! I shall be back in no time." He put his arm around her waist and caressed her; he gave her the usual pet names: Little Mistress, dear little Mistress! A whistle sounded; Ole glanced at his watch; he had fifteen minutes left. He had to see Tidemand a moment.

      As soon as he entered Tidemand's office he said: "I am going to London. I want you to come over occasionally and give the old man a lift. Won't you?"

      "Certainly," said Tidemand. "Are you not going to sit down, Miss Aagot? For you are not departing, I hope?"

      "Yes, to-morrow," answered Aagot.

      Ole happened to think of the last quotations. Rye was going up again. He congratulated his friend warmly.

      Yes, prices were better; the Russian crops hadn't quite come up to expectations; the rise was not large, but it meant a great deal to Tidemand with his enormous stores.

      "Yes, I am keeping afloat," he said happily, "and I can thank you for that. Yes, I can—" And he told them that he was busy with a turn in tar. He had contracts from a house in Bilbao. "But we will talk about this when you get back. Bon voyage!"

      "If anything happens, wire me," said Ole.

      Tidemand followed the couple to his door. Both Ole and Aagot were moved. He went to the window and waved to them as they passed; then he went back to his desk and worked away with books and papers. A quarter of an hour passed. He saw Aagot return alone; Ole had gone.

      Tidemand paced back and forth, mumbling, figuring, calculating every contingency regarding this business in tar. He happened to see a long entry in the ledger which was lying open on his desk. It was Irgens's account. Tidemand glanced at it indifferently; old loans, bad debts, wine and loans, wine and cash. The entries were dated several years back; there were none during the last year. Irgens had never made any payments; the credit column was clean. Tidemand still remembered how Irgens used to joke about his debts. He did not conceal

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