But it was more than being forsaken--she was abandoned, deposed, made nothing of. Tora had lifted her up to the skies; she was "all mind," "could not make a mistake." And now this very Tora had dropped her--for Milla Engel! The world was nothing but lies and delusions. "Oh dear! Tinka, why cannot you be kind to me? You do not know how unhappy I am." But Tinka was silent. "I cannot do without you, Tinka--no, I cannot. I have discovered since this morning that I made nothing but mistakes. I have no stability--no, not a bit." "No, that is it," said Tinka soothingly. "Not a bit; oh dear, what shall I do? Won't you talk to me?" She cried dreadfully now. "You only care for adoration, Nora." "Not 'only,' Tinka; don't say 'only.'" "No, no; but you are never happy unless you are adored, and one tires of that." "What shall I do, Tinka? Goodness knows I am tired of it myself. Ah, you do not believe it, but it's true, especially now since Milla is adored as well. Ugh! it is disgusting to think of." "That is merely because it is Milla, and not you." "No indeed, Tinka," and she raised herself on her elbow. "Tora has given me so much of it that I am tired of it; yes, I am; and to think that she is with Milla now." She flung herself down again and cried, with anger and vexation. She raised herself again suddenly: "But I must get rid of all this; it is disgusting; I despise myself; you do not know what I have been thinking since this morning. Help me, Tinka; you are the only one of them all who speaks the truth to me." Tinka was unmoved: Nora flung herself down again, turned away and cried. "I cannot understand," said Tinka at length, "that you who rave so for----" "Do not use that word"--Nora interrupted her while she made a gesture with her hand behind her--"it has become loathsome now that Milla does it too. Milla 'raves.' Can you imagine anything so----?" "Well, well, I will not say 'rave.'" "No, don't." "Very well, I will say 'interest yourself--you who interest yourself so much in all that is just and great, and who are also so brave, for you would cheerfully die for what you think right----" "Yes, I could, Tinka; I believe I could do that; ah, how nice it is to hear something good again, and especially from you; I feel quite astray." "Yes, but now I am coming to what I want to say--do you understand? Is it not a shame that any one so excellent should all the same be such a peacock?" "A peacock, Tinka?" "Yes, a peacock; you are just like a peacock!" "Am I? I think you are----" "It was not I who said so." "I thought as much." "It was Tora who said so." "Tora! the ungrateful----" "Yes, but Tora is right; you are dreadfully like a peacock, Nora; that thin little face of yours, and then you are so slender." "Come, I say, Tinka." "Yes, it's true. All we friends agree as to that. We are all to be the eyes in your tail. Yes, that is it." Nora threw herself down and howled, with her head and hands in the eider-down quilt.