Her quiet life with the vague feeling of something wanting in it had indeed been changed by the Norwegian holiday. Now, for the first time, she realized that her uneventful girlhood was over; she had become a woman, and, woman-like, she bravely accepted the pain which love had brought into her life, and looked sadly, perhaps, yet unshrinkingly into the future, where it was little likely that anything but grief and anxiety awaited her. For she loved a man who was absolutely indifferent to her, and her love had given her clear insight. She saw that he was a man whose faith in love, both human and divine, had been crushed out of him by a great wrong; a man whose whole nature had deteriorated and would continue to deteriorate, unless some unforeseen thing should interfere to change his whole view of life. But the scalding tears which rose to her eyes were not tears of self-pity; they were tears of sorrow for Frithiof, of disappointment about his ruined life, of a sad humility as she thought to herself: “Oh! if only I were fit to help him! If only!” Meanwhile in the study a very matter-of-fact conversation was being held. “What I want to find out,” said Mr. Boniface, “is whether you are really in earnest in what you say about work. There are thousands of young men saying exactly the same thing, but when you take the trouble to go into their complaint you find that the real cry is not ‘Give me work by which I can get an honest living!’ but ‘Give me work that does not clash with my tastes—work that I thoroughly like.’” “I have no particular tastes,” said Frithiof coldly. “The sort of work is quite indifferent to me as long as it will bring in money.” “You are really willing to begin at the bottom of the ladder and work your way up? You are not above taking a step which would place you much lower in the social scale.” “A fellow living on the charity of a relation who grudges every farthing, as taking something away from his own children, is not likely to trouble much about the social scale,” said Frithiof bitterly. “Very well. Then I will, at any rate, suggest my plan for you, and see what you think of it. If you care to accept it until something better turns up, I can give you a situation in my house of business. Your salary to begin with would be but small; the man who leaves me next Monday has had only five and-twenty shillings a week, and I could not, without unfair favoritism, give you more at first. But every man has a chance of rising, and I am quite sure that you, with your advantages, would do so. You understand that, as I said, it is mere work that I am offering you. Doubtless standing behind a counter will not be very congenial work to one brought up as you have been; but you might do infinitely worse, and I can at least promise you that you will be treated as a man—not, as in many places you would find it, as a mere ‘hand.’”