Petra turned pale, drew a deep heavy sigh looked round hesitatingly,--and then rushing into a side room, the door of which stood half open, she threw herself down beside a table, and gave full vent to her grief and disappointment! Father and daughter looked at each other; this lack of manners,--rushing into another room without a word, and then sitting down by herself, was only a counterpart of her former proceeding,--coming in from the road, begging to stay with them, and bursting into tears when she did not get permission. The dean went after her, not to speak to her, but to shut the door. He came back quite flushed, and said in a subdued tone to the daughter, who was still standing by the stove: "Have you ever seen her equal?--Who is she? What is her object?"--The daughter did not at once reply, and when she answered it was in a still more subdued tone than the father's.--"She goes the wrong way about, but there is something very remarkable in her."--The dean paced up and down, looking towards the door; at last he stopped and whispered: "She cannot be altogether in her right mind?"--and as Signe did not answer, he came nearer and repeated more decidedly: "She must be crazy, Signe, half-witted; that is the remarkable about her."--"I don't think so;" replied Signe, "but she is certainly very unhappy," and she bent down over the dried rose leaves with which she was still toying. The tone of the voice, as well as the movement would have been in no way striking to another; but it changed the father at once, he walked a few times up and down, looking at the portrait; at last he said, very slowly: "You mean, because she looks unhappy,--that mother would have bidden her stay?"--"Mother would not have given any answer for two or three days," whispered the daughter, bending lower over the roses. The gentlest reminder of her up there, when the daughter brought it thus before him, could make that hairy lion head as mild and gentle as a lamb's. He felt the truth at once, and stood like a school boy caught in a trick; he forgot to smoke and walk up and down, and after a long time he whispered: "Should I bid her remain a few days?"--"You have already answered her."--"Yes, but it is one thing to receive her altogether, and another to let her stay here a few days."--Signe seemed to be pondering the matter, and said at last, "Do as you think best." The dean would prove the matter yet once more, as he paced the room again, smoking hard. At last he stopped: "Will you go in, or shall I?"--"It will certainly do most good if you go," said the daughter and looked mildly up. He was just going to turn the door handle, when a loud peal of laughter was heard from within,--then silence and again another roar. The dean, who had turned back, went forward again, the daughter after him; for there must be something the matter with the one in there.