"Margaretha! dearest Margaretha! thou hast terrified me," exclaimed Ulrica, who had turned quite pale. "A horrible and ghastly form rises before me. Ah! thou art right; I never thought of that. If the story of my birth be true I ought never to hold Sir Kagge dear, and yet I never saw the noble ill-fated prince who fell in Finnerup-barn. Should I hate all those who willed his death, I must also hate my mother, and thy mother, and father Stig. Alas, Margaretha! we must never think on our lot in this world, if we would be gay and happy among other human beings; we must either forget all that hath chanced to us, or go into a nunnery, and bid the beautiful joyous world good night; but that I cannot do. Dear sister! pray for me. I will forget what it is not good to think upon, but I cannot hate any living soul; and he who loves me with truth and fervour I _must_ love again, whoever he may be, and for what cause soever he may be outlawed and persecuted." She burst into a flood of tears, and held up her long golden tresses before her eyes. "Dearest Ulrica! weep not. I will pray for thee as long as I live," said Margaretha. She rose hastily from the prie-dieu, and folded her sister tenderly in her arms. "We have not as yet wished each other a happy new year. The Lord and our blessed Lady make thee pious and patient, and blessed, and grant us both that which is most profitable for soul and salvation. Weep not, dearest Ulrica! If I have spoken harshly to thee, and grieved thee, forgive me, for our mother's sake! She bade me admonish thee, and guard thy soul from thoughts of vanity. But I see it is so, thou _art_ good and pious and blessed; only weep not!" "Yes, if thou wilt never more speak evil of Sir Kagge, or require I should forget him, and leave off dreaming of him, for that I cannot; that I _will not_ do." So saying, Ulrica dried her eyes with her long hair, and peeped archly at her sister through her fingers. "In the Lord's name, love every living soul in which there is a spark of God's grace," answered Margaretha, "only be not sorrowful." "Well, I can understand you now," said Ulrica, taking her hand from her eyes. She laughed, and heartily kissed her sister. "A happy new year, sister Margaretha! Would thou might'st wed the handsome Drost ere the year is out, and would we might get out of this cage ere the woods are green and the birds sing." She then began to dance with her staid sister round the prison chamber, singing, "I know where stands a castle fair, All dazzling to the sight; Its walls are decked with carvings rare, With gold and silver bright."[17]