In the midst of the story, just as Tora had paused for a moment to cry, Milla heard someone at the door; there was a knock, she opened it just wide enough to step through; in a little time she returned and said that she and Anna Rogne had made an engagement to go to church together, but that she had excused herself on the score of a headache; it was certainly the second Sunday that she had done so, but it could not be helped. Milla was sorry for Tora; she really was fond of her, it showed itself now. She promised not to take anything in bad part which Tora might devise, so as to keep on good terms with Nora and her numerous friends. Milla really was very sweet. Tora had only time to put her arms round her and kiss her for this, for she must show herself in church. But might she come again in the afternoon? She was very much consoled, but she longed for more; she was so frightened, she must manage to talk everything over with her. Milla asked her to come again as early as ever she could. Tora came again after coffee; as soon as she had locked the door, Milla whispered, as she put her arm round Tora's neck, that now she was going to give her a treat, she felt certain that it would please her. To no one, absolutely to no one, had she shown what Tora was going to see. The press there---- "The press, well----?" "Once it held my dolls." "Your dolls!" "Every one knows that it does not now," said Milla; as she spoke she flung it open. The large double doors, both the upper and lower ones, flew back together, and the girls could see four storeys of a house; the bottom one a complete and marvellously dainty kitchen, scullery, and dining-room, above a drawing-room, a large elegant apartment with the most lovely furniture upholstered in silk, a black rosewood table, fireplace, looking-glass, clock. On the third storey a bedroom, with the sweetest little beds--real actual beds--and a wash-hand stand, where everything was to be found, down to the most minute details. On the fourth storey was the wardrobe, a magnificent doll's wardrobe. There were changes in silk, velvet, _moiré antique_, in different colours; a whole collection of materials which had not yet been made up; scraps of every description evidently collected with diligence and care during many years. All linen, even stockings, and other underclothing, all in duplicate, as well as hats, mantles, ornaments, belts. Tora shrieked; she was down on her knees and up on tiptoe; she did not at first lay a finger on them, but devoured them with her eyes, unable to take in the whole--it could not be grasped all at once; there was too much, too great a variety, it was too wonderfully minute. She had not even counted the dolls yet. "One, two, three, four--five--six! seven!! eight!!!" She had begun softly, but her voice rose at every number, so that Milla hastened to say, "Twelve, twelve, there are twelve."