Ingrid was silent. She was tired, as one is tired after hard work; but she was also content, for she felt she had carried out her work in the best possible manner. She knew she had conquered. At last Gunnar Hede broke the silence. 'I promise you that I will not give in,' he said. 'Thank you,' Ingrid answered. Nothing more was said. Gunnar Hede thought he would never be able to tell her how much he loved her. It could never be told in words, only shown every day and every hour of his life. _From a Swedish_ HOMESTEAD II _Queens at_ KUNGAHÄLLA _Queens at_ KUNGAHÄLLA _On the_ SITE _of the Great_ KUNGAHÄLLA Should a stranger who had heard about the old city of Kungahälla ever visit the site on the northern river where it once lay, he would assuredly be much surprised. He would ask himself whether churches and fortifications could melt away like snow, or if the earth had opened and swallowed them up. He stands on a spot where formerly there was a mighty city, and he cannot find a street or a landing-stage. He sees neither ruins nor traces of devastating fires; he only sees a country seat, surrounded by green trees and red outbuildings. He sees nothing but broad meadows and fields, where the plough does its work year after year without being hindered either by brick foundations or old pavements. He would probably first of all go down to the river. He would not expect to see anything of the great ships that went to the Baltic ports or to distant Spain, but he would in all likelihood think that he might find traces of the old ship-yards, of the large boat-houses and landing-stages. He presumes that he will find some of the old kilns where they used to refine salt; he will see the worn-out pavement on the main street that led to the harbour. He will inquire about the German pier and the Swedish pier; he would like to see the Weeping Bridge where the women of Kungahälla took leave of their husbands and sons when they went to distant lands, but when he comes down to the river's edge he sees nothing but a forest of waving reeds. He sees a road full of holes leading down to the ferry; he sees a couple of common barges and a little flat-bottomed ferryboat that is taking a peasant cart over to Hisingen, but no big ships come gliding up the river. He does not even see any dark hulls lying and rotting at the bottom of the river.