Astrid considered it suitable to the arid state of her heart that she should pine away, and to that end consumed bits of chalk from the class-room blackboard, scrapings of slate pencils, and all the vinegar within reach at meals. As may be imagined, she soon displayed an interesting pallor, and was accordingly dosed with iron pills and quince wine. Her heavy sighs and melancholy demeanour so impressed her fellow pupils, that it was generally rumoured she was dying of a broken heart. The broken heart soon mended, however, when early in the second year at the convent, her discerning eye perceived the burning glances of a most romantic looking youth. "Long hair, my dear, velveteen clothes, and the most beautiful soulful eyes you ever saw," she told Ragna. The girls were on their way, with a group of selected pupils under the guardianship of an assistant mistress, to see a picture gallery. The young man turned in behind the procession and followed. The next time it was the same, and Astrid's romantic little soul thrilled at the thought of so devoted an admirer. It was easy for the man to slip a folded note into the girl's hand one day, as the little group straggled up the stairway of the Louvre, and during the rest of the afternoon Astrid's hand strayed constantly to her pocket to assure herself of the safety of the precious paper. With eyelids lowered over shining eyes, she listened to the droning explanations of the teacher, longing to be alone, to be free to read the note. This was the beginning of a correspondence, for Astrid answered the letter and an obliging day-scholar posted the little envelope addressed to M. Jules Gauthiez. So the two exchanged perfervid epistles, and wrote such impassioned, if confused, outpourings, that Astrid's little soul was consumed within her. The secret feeling of importance it gave her betrayed itself in the brightness of her eyes and in the self-consciousness of her voice and manner. The regimen of chalk and vinegar fell into abeyance. Ragna, at first amused, began to be alarmed at the situation; Astrid keyed to the highest pitch of romantic sentimentality, was capable of any folly, and the immediate consequences of discovery, public reprimand and expulsion from the school, spelled unthinkable disaster to her more serious mind. She begged Astrid to give the whole thing up, but the girl would listen to no argument that her friend could put forward. "My love is my life, can you ask me to tear my heart out?" she demanded. The most Ragna could obtain, was that Astrid should be more prudent--which meant exactly nothing. Naturally, the Sisters could not long remain unobservant of the change in Astrid's demeanour, and from awakened attention to discovery there lay but a step.