He hastened away and Cecil scanned with curious eyes the faces of the little crowd gathered on the landing-quay, till her attention was arrested by a young Norwegian in a light-gray suit who stood laughing and talking to an acquaintance on the wooden wharf. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with something unusually erect and energetic in his bearing; his features were of the pure Greek type not unfrequently to be met with in Norway; while his northern birth was attested by a fair skin and light hair and mustache, as well as by a pair of honest, well-opened blue eyes which looked out on the world with a boyish content and happiness. “I believe that is Frithiof Falck,” thought Cecil. And the next moment her idea was confirmed, for as the connecting gangway was raised from the quay, one of the steamer officials greeted him by name, and the young Norwegian, replying in very good English, stepped on board and began looking about as if in search of some one. Involuntarily Cecil’s eyes followed him; she had a strange feeling that in some way she knew him, knew him far better than the people he had come to meet. He, too, seemed affected in the same way, for he came straight up to her, and, raising his hat and bowing, said, with frank courtesy: “Pardon me, but am I speaking to Miss Morgan?” “I think the Miss Morgans are at the other side of the gangway; I saw them a minute ago,” she said, coloring a little. “A thousand pardons for my mistake,” said Frithiof Falck. “I came to meet this English family, you understand, but I have never seen them.” “There is Miss Morgan,” exclaimed Cecil; “that lady in a blue ulster; and there is her uncle just joining her.” “Many thanks for your kind help,” said Frithiof, and with a second bow, and a smile from his frank eyes, he passed on and approached Mr. Morgan. “Welcome to Norway, sir,” he exclaimed, greeting the traveler with the easy, courteous manner peculiar to Norwegians. “I hope you have made a good voyage.” “Oh, how do you do, Mr. Falck?” said the Englishman, scanning him from head to foot as he shook hands, and speaking very loud, as if the foreigner were deaf. “Very good of you to meet us, I’m sure. My niece, Miss Blanche Morgan.” Frithiof bowed, and his heart began to beat fast as a pair of most lovely dark-gray eyes gave him such a glance as he had never before received. “My sister is much looking forward to the pleasure of making your acquaintance,” he said. “Ah!” exclaimed Blanche, “how beautifully you speak English! And how you will laugh at me when I tell you that I have been learning Norwegian for fear there should be dead silence between us.” “Indeed, there is nothing which pleases us so much as that you should learn our tongue,” he said, smiling. “My English is just now in its zenith, for I passed the winter with an English clergyman at Hanover for the sake of improving it.” “But why not have come to England?” said Blanche.