He could not remain impassive in the presence of this warm admiration. He wanted to return it, to show her how fond he was of her, and while in this mood he confided to her that he, too, had applied for the subsidy. What did she think of that? He had really applied, briefly and without enclosing any recommendations, simply sending his book. That ought to be sufficient. Mrs. Hanka did not answer at once. "You have suffered, then," she said; "you have lacked--I mean, you have had to apply like the others--" "Well, good Lord," he answered, and laughed, "what are the subsidies for, anyway? I have not suffered want; but why not apply when one can do it without loss of prestige? And I did not humble myself; be sure of that. 'I hereby apply for the subsidy and enclose my last book'--that was all. There was no kowtowing whatever. And when I survey my fellow applicants I hardly think I shall be entirely eclipsed. What is your opinion?" She smiled and said: "No, you will not be eclipsed." He put his arm around her and said: "Now, Hanka, you must go back--I can endure it all as long as you are in town, but when you go away it will look very dark for me! I shan't know what to do with myself then." "I am only going to the country," she said. "Isn't that enough? We shall be separated just the same, for you know I cannot leave the city. When are you going?" "I imagine in about a week." "I wish you wouldn't go away, Hanka!" he exclaimed, and stood still. Mrs. Hanka reflected. "Would it really please you so much if I stayed?" she asked. "All right; then I'll stay. Yes, I will. It will be hard on the children, but--Anyway, it is enough for me that I make you glad." They had reached Sara's once more. "Good night," he said happily. "Thank you, Hanka! When shall I see you again? I am longing--" III Three days later Irgens received a note from Mrs. Hanka. He was down-town; he had met a few acquaintances; he did not say much, but was in a satisfied frame of mind. He had taken a look at Paulsberg's great portrait which was now exhibited in the Arrow, in the large window which everybody had to pass; people crowded in front of it continually. The painting was elegant and obtrusive; Paulsberg's well-groomed form looked very distinguished in the plain cane-bottomed chair, and people wondered if that was the chair in which he had written his books. All the newspapers had mentioned the picture in flattering terms. Irgens had a glass of wine in front of him and listened abstractedly to the conversation. Tidemand was still optimistic; that bit of rain in Russia had not depressed his hopes. The prices were not soaring as yet, but they surely would. Suddenly Irgens pricked up his ears: Tidemand was talking about their summer plans.