"Do not be so startled, Miss Krog. It is nothing very uncommon." This information lowered Mary considerably in her own estimation. She slowly seated herself again. "You cannot have had any experience of this sort of thing, Miss Krog?" Mary shook her head. "In which case it surprises me that you were able to escape from Jörgen Thiis in time; _he_ has had plenty." Mary made no reply. "We expected, especially after your father and Mrs. Dawes both became invalids, that you would have been married before autumn." "We intended to be, but it proved impossible." Margrete could not fathom what lay beneath this enigmatic answer; but she said, with a searching glance: "This, doubtless, added very considerably to his ardour?" Mary trembled inwardly, but controlled herself. "You seem to know him?" she said. Margrete reflected for a moment, then answered: "Yes. I am older than you, older than Jörgen, too. But in Christiania I also, to my shame be it spoken, was infatuated with him. This he discovered--and tried to take advantage of." She laughed. Mary turned pale, rose, and walked to the window. The wind was lashing the rain against the panes with ever-increasing force. She remained for a few moments gazing out into the storm, then came and stood in front of Margrete, agitated, restless. "Will you promise me never to tell any one what we have spoken about to-day--under any circumstances whatever?" Margrete looked at her in surprise. "You wish me to tell no one that you have asked me about Jörgen Thiis?" "It is my express desire that no one should know it." "Do you mean any one in particular?" Mary looked at her. "Any one in particular?" She did not understand. Margrete rose. "A man came to this town on purpose to tell you that Jörgen Thiis was not worthy of you. He came too late; but I think he deserves to know that you have discovered for yourself what Jörgen Thiis is." Mary answered, eagerly: "Tell _him_. By all means tell _him_!... So that was why he came," she added slowly. "I am glad that you have told me. Because my other reason for wishing to see you was--" she hesitated a little, "the other thing I wanted to ask you was--to give my kind remembrances to your brother." "That I shall do, gladly. Thank you for the message. You know what you are to my brother." Mary looked away. She struggled with herself a moment, then said: "I am one of the unhappy people who cannot understand their own lives--cannot understand what has happened. I can find no clue to it. But something tells me that your brother has had his share in it." She evidently wished to say more, but could not. Instead, she returned to the window and remained standing there again. The storm without called into the room with its thousand-voiced wrath. It was calling her. "What a terrible storm!" said Margrete, raising her voice. "I am rejoicing at the thought of going out into it," said Mary, turning round with sparkling eyes.