At eleven o'clock the next day Ragni was still asleep, and when she came downstairs about noon, rather tired and confused and much astonished that Kallem had got up without her hearing him, she was informed that he had gone away! A telegram from Dr. Kent, who was ill again, made it impossible for him to remain longer. A few hasty lines, scribbled while he ate his breakfast, comforted her a little. He wrote that he would not wake her as she had been up so late the night before, still less would he have her with him; but never had he felt a greater pleasure than in seeing her so happy. The first thing Kallem found when he got home was an invitation to a ball from the "club." And he decided to accept it. The invitation was in his sister's hand-writing (she was one of the patronesses) and it was to "Dr. and Mrs. Kallem." Dear me! Should he telegraph for Ragni? He decided to let her stay where she was; she could not be better off. Meanwhile he had to do with a very serious matter. His first visit the same evening was to a poor woman down in the town, Sissel Aune, a washerwoman and mother of a large family; she was in bed with inflammation of the lungs. It was particularly on her account that Kent had telegraphed. The seventh day had passed without any crisis, and when this night was half through, the ninth day would be over too. Would she survive it? Both upper and lower tips of the lung were affected. The heart was weak, the pulse very feeble, and there were other bad symptoms. Should he try to brace up the heart with atropin for the last struggle? He had never tried that remedy in a similar case, but it seemed reasonable enough. Wherever he went and whatever he did, this question haunted him. The five children were over with Sören Pedersen and his wife Aase; those two were capital in such emergencies. The second time he went there he stayed; it was a wrestling match with death.