Instead of answering directly, Jörgen began mournfully: "I wish you knew, Mary, what I have had to bear from Uncle, from the day he adopted me--the things he has demanded of me, the things he has persecuted me for. To this very day he treats me like a naughty schoolboy. The worst of his bad temper is vented upon me." The mixture of unhappiness and bitterness depicted on his face led Mary involuntarily to exclaim: "Poor Jörgen--now I begin to understand!" They walked on. She reflected that Jörgen's power of self-control had been acquired in a hard school; there he had also learned the art of concealment. She could not but admire his tenacity of purpose. What had it not accomplished! Think of his music alone! It, however, had been a great consolation to him. Now she understood his extreme politeness; now she understood his sentimentality; she understood what had made him so exacting and severe with those under his command. She saw that she herself had probably added to his unhappiness. His long, silent love for her had only been an additional burden; for she had not given him one encouraging word--very much the reverse! What wonder that at last it should have become a kind of possession! "Poor Jörgen!" she said again, and took his hand. It was the first token of affection she had bestowed upon him. She had to draw her hand away again immediately to hold down her dress, for a strong wind was blowing at the point, and a sailing-boat was tacking just below them. The people in it waved up to them, and they waved back. How fresh the air was! How brilliantly blue the fjord! As they were descending towards the bay, Mary asked: "Do you really believe that Uncle Klaus will disinherit you if we marry?" "My dear girl, we have nothing to marry on!" "We can sell these shares," she said undauntedly. "If we were to sell them at their present price, in order to be able to marry at once, he would be absolutely certain to cut me off." But Mary would not give in. "There are our woods." "It will be several years before there is any timber to fell." How well informed Jörgen was! How carefully he had thought the whole thing out! They had now reached the stretch of level road which led along the shore to the last headland before Krogskogen. At a farm here there was a surly old Lapland dog. Mary and he were good friends. He always barked a little as people came up; probably he did not see well; but as soon as he scented an acquaintance his tail began to wag. To-day he was furious. "Dear me!" exclaimed Mary, "is it you who are making him so angry, Jörgen?" Jörgen did not answer, but stooped to pick up a small stone. When the dog saw this, he scurried off with his tail between his legs to the shelter of a heap of sticks, and there continued to bark. "Don't do it!" said Mary, as she saw Jörgen taking aim.