She stopped writing because the thought of those past days had blinded her with tears, and because the longing for her father’s presence had overwhelmed her; they had been so much to each other that there was not an hour in the day when she did not miss him. The dreary wind howling and whistling round the little wooden house seemed to harmonize only too well with her sadness, and when the unwelcome supper-bell began to ring she wrapped her shawl about her, and climbed the steep path to the dining-room, slowly and reluctantly, with a look on her pale face which it was sad to see in one so young. Swanhild came dancing to meet her. “Major Brown has got us such beautiful trout for supper, Sigrid, and uncle says I may go out fishing, too, some day. And you’ll come with us, wont you?” “You had better take Karen,” said Sigrid listlessly. “You know I never did care much for fishing. You shall catch them and I will eat them,” she added, with a dreary little smile. And throughout supper she hardly spoke, and at the first opportunity slipped away quietly, only, however, to be pursued by Swanhild. “What is the matter?” said the child, slipping her arm round her sister’s waist. “Are you not coming to the sitting-room?” “No,” said Sigrid, “I am tired, and it is so cold in there. I am going into the kitchen to buy some stamps. Frithiof’s letter ought to go to-morrow.” As she spoke she opened the door of the roomy old kitchen, which is the pride of Hjerkin. Its three windows were shaded by snowy muslin curtains; its spotless floor was strewn with juniper; the walls, painted a peacock-blue, were hung with bright dish-covers, warming-pans, quaint old bellows and kitchen implements. There was a tall old clock in a black and gold case, a pretty corner cupboard in shaded brown, and a huge, old-fashioned cabinet with cunning little drawers and nooks and corners, all painted in red and blue and green, with an amount of gilding which gave it quite an Eastern look. “Ah, how cozy the fire looks!” cried Swanhild, crossing over to the curious old grate which filled the whole of one corner of the room, and which certainly did look very tempting with its bright copper kettles and saucepans all glowing in the ruddy light. “Bless your heart,” said the kind old landlady, “sit down and warm yourself.”