"These old silver things are so pretty," she said childishly. "And, at worst, they will do for bazaars," added Evelyn. The saleswoman became more and more gracious. She had considerable experience in serving tourists who, with reminiscences of a previous summer in Switzerland or Italy, offered her "a pound for the lot," and her manner had acquired some asperity in consequence; but she quickly adapted herself to the people with whom she had to deal. Mona watched her with a curious interest and fellow-feeling. "I ought to be picking up hints," she thought, with a smile. "I certainly might have a much worse teacher." "Let me see. That's eleven and a half kroner," said a showy-looking man, taking a handful of gold and silver from his pocket. "I'll give you ten shillings." No answer. "Will you take ten shillings?" "No, sir," very quietly. He frowned. "Eleven shillings?" "No, sir." "What do you throw off?" "Not--anything, sir," in slow but very unmistakable English. He flounced out of the shop, leaving the things lying on the counter. Not a muscle of the young woman's face changed, as she quietly returned the pretty toys to their place on the shelves. "_Brava!_" said Mona to herself. "A penny for your thoughts, Mona dear," said Evelyn's quiet voice a minute later. "Mr Dickinson has asked you twice how you like this old chatelaine. He wants to buy it for his sister." Mona laughed and blushed. "My thoughts are worth more than a penny," she said,--"to me at least." In point of fact, she was wondering whether it would be a part of her duty to say "Sir" and "Madam" to her customers at Borrowness. In the course of the afternoon the Munros met a number of friends and acquaintances, and the next few days passed gaily away in excursions of all kinds. Night after night the party came home, sunburnt and stiff, but not too tired to enjoy a bright discussion across the pleasant dinner-table. There was nothing very profound about these conversations. Everybody had toiled and climbed enough during the day. Now they were content to fly lightly from crag to crag over a towering difficulty, or to cross a yawning problem on a rainbow bridge. But after all, they were happy, and the world was not waiting in suspense for their conclusions. Sunday morning came round all too soon, and on Monday the Munros were to sail for Bergen. Mona was sitting alone on the verandah, watching the people coming to church. The fjord lay sparkling in the sunshine, and from every hamlet and homestead along the coast, as far as the eye could reach, boats were setting out for Odde. As they drew in to the pier, the voluminous white sleeves, stiff halo-like caps, and brilliant scarlet bodices, made a pretty foreground of light and colour in the landscape. But in the midst of her enjoyment Mona drew a long, deep, heartfelt sigh.