At half-past four o’clock in the afternoon, Halfdan found himself standing in a large, dimly lighted drawing-room, whose brilliant upholstery, luxurious carpets, and fantastically twisted furniture dazzled and bewildered his senses. All was so strange, so strange; nowhere a familiar object to give rest to the wearied eye. Wherever he looked he saw his shabbily attired figure repeated in the long crystal mirrors, and he became uncomfortably conscious of his threadbare coat, his uncouth boots, and the general incongruity of his appearance. With every moment his uneasiness grew; and he was vaguely considering the propriety of a precipitate flight, when the rustle of a dress at the farther end of the room startled him, and a small, plump lady, of a daintily exquisite form, swept up toward him, gave a slight inclination of her head, and sank down into an easy-chair: “You are Mr. ----, the Norwegian, who wishes to give music lessons?” she said, holding a pair of gold-framed eyeglasses up to her eyes, and running over the note which she held in her hand. It read as follows: DEAR MARTHA,--The bearer of this note is a young Norwegian, I forgot to ascertain his name, a friend of Olson’s. He wishes to teach music. If you can help the poor devil and give him something to do, you will oblige, Yours, H. V. K. Mrs. Van Kirk was evidently, by at least twelve years, her husband’s junior, and apparently not very far advanced in the forties. Her blonde hair, which was freshly crimped, fell lightly over her smooth, narrow forehead; her nose, mouth and chin had a neat distinctness of outline; her complexion was either naturally or artificially perfect, and her eyes, which were of the purest blue, had, owing to their near-sightedness, a certain pinched and scrutinizing look. This look, which was without the slightest touch of severity, indicating merely a lively degree of interest, was further emphasized by three small perpendicular wrinkles, which deepened and again relaxed according to the varying intensity of observation she bestowed upon the object which for the time engaged her attention. “Your name, if you please?” said Mrs. Van Kirk, having for awhile measured her visitor with a glance of mild scrutiny. “Halfdan Bjerk.” “Half-dan B----, how do you spell that?” “B-j-e-r-k.” “B-jerk. Well, but I mean, what is your name in English?” Halfdan looked blank, and blushed to his ears. “I wish to know,” continued the lady energetically, evidently anxious to help him out, “what your name would mean in plain English. Bjerk, it certainly must mean something.” “Bjerk is a tree--a birch-tree.” “Very well, Birch,--that is a very respectable name. And your first name? What did you say that was? “H-a-l-f-d-a-n.” “Half Dan. Why not a whole Dan and be done with it? Dan Birch, or rather Daniel Birch. Indeed, that sounds quite Christian.” “As you please, madam,” faltered the victim, looking very unhappy.