It was a thick, dark evening, the snow falling slightly. The star-like snow-flakes floated slowly and singly down as though each one had its own place and was bent on a special errand; not a breath of wind came to disturb them. Both ladies were well wrapped up and had Laplander shoes on. The music and dancing were still in full swing when they met, and there was much merry laughter among all the young people on the stairs and in the corridors; outside was the noise of bells from the sledges come to fetch the guests. The "nephew," being the host of the evening, could not leave so early; but he found someone to take his place; this other young man gave his arm to his lady, and they set off down hill at a run; but when Kallem would have done the same his young landlady was frightened and clung to him, as she was forced along running, and begged and implored him not to do it. It was just as though she did not see properly. He stopped and asked if that were the case. No; but she was so terribly afraid of falling. "You seem to be nervous and timid altogether." "Yes, I know I am," said she, truthfully. She was sweet enough, but in reality a bit of a prude. Then they walked on for a while in silence; they could see nothing of the other two. Bah! thought he, there is no use being offended, I suppose she can't help it. "It is not one o'clock yet," said he. "No, but the youngest child is not very well; the servant is sitting up with her, but she has to get up early to-morrow morning." The North-country sing-song in her voice seemed to carry him far away out to sea. "I miss the open sea so much now in the winter," said he; "here everything is ice-bound. I suppose it is always so in the West." She told him that when she was at Berlin, and particularly after she had been playing, she could almost hear the sea at times. "But is it not a delightful thing that the sea always freshens one up when one is near it, and makes one melancholy when one thinks of it?" Just then something came driving past them at great speed; they had to get out of the way and she pulled him with her to the extreme edge of the road, as three sledges, one after the other, dashed past them at a terrific rate. They continued their walk, listening to the sleigh bells as they died away in the distance; again there was that complete silence necessary to attract attention to the falling snow-flakes. "One ought really never to talk whilst snow is falling," said she. Then the other two waited for them and the conversation was kept up for a time by the "nut-kernel" and the two gentlemen, till they came to a hill which the first couple took at full speed. By and by they saw them again through the veil of snow, but could hear nothing of them. But as the street became more inhabited, and the traffic greater, the couples kept closer together, and there was an end to all that had been amusing in their walk.