At times, when while sitting at her writing-table, she had felt some consciousness of power,--she had hoped to be able to maintain herself by literary labour. At other times she doubted. Now, when the question seemed to her more grave than ever before, she seemed to hear her father's words of discouragement, 'as devoid of talent as her mother.' But why, then, was she so irresistibly impelled to give life to the creatures of her fancy? and how had she been able in all her misery to forget herself in so doing, if she were not called to avail herself of the talent which she possessed? She stood at the window, with throbbing pulses, and gazed out into the twilight. Over in the garden a thrush was singing its evening song in the top of an old pear-tree. Ah, that song! Its ecstasy would always recall to the girl the most wretched hour of her existence. 'Called?' Had she not also thought herself called to be a partaker in the bliss of love? How true the words of Holy Writ, 'Many are called, but few are chosen!' The evening and a great part of the night were passed by Johanna in a wild turmoil of thought. She began the new day with a weary head and a heavy heart. All the more cheerful was Batti during the morning ride; he shouted and laughed louder than ever. Suddenly he broke off, and, guiding his horse close to her side, he said, "I am tiring you with my nonsense, but you must excuse me to-day. I have just had a letter which puts me quite beside myself. If the devil does not put in his oar, we shall go to St. Petersburg this autumn." Johanna was startled. How would Lisbeth bear the long journey and the severity of the Russian winter? "Helena knows nothing about it yet. I shall not tell her until everything is ship-shape," Batti continued; "she makes such a row. But I tell you immediately, because we have no time to lose. Better go to work at once. St. Petersburg is the best place in the world for your débût." "My débût!" Johanna exclaimed, in surprise. "Pray let us have no fol-de-rol nonsense!" Batti quickly rejoined. "No need for us to play hide-and-seek with each other! I need you, you need me; let us confess this much at once. Your manners, rather haughty,--coolly distinguished, I might say,--will be a fine nut for the St. Petersburg gentlemen to crack. You will look like a queen beside my two laughing, coquettish blondes. Besides, you have talent, enthusiasm, energy, and look better on horseback than anywhere else. You have no family connection. Even without appearing as an equestrienne you have contrived to be exiled and repudiated. Nothing could be more admirably arranged. So be sensible; do not hesitate any longer. Mount the horse that an honest hand saddles and bridles for you, and then halloo! huzza! for the brilliant future I promise you. Why the deuce should you hesitate? You'll find no better teacher than myself, and no better chance than in my circus. I should like to know what objections you can make?"