“No. You know well enough I can manage it all right. And she's given me good money, too. Extra.” “Did she, though?” “Ay, that she did. But she's a queer sort, is Fruen.” Then said I: “I don't think you ought to go off again now.” Grindhusen stopped short. “You think so? Well, now, I dare say you're right.” Just then came Fruen's voice from outside--she had come right over to the stable door. “Aren't you ready yet? How much longer am I to sit waiting?” “Ready this minute,” answered Grindhusen, and turned to again, busier than ever. “It was only these girths.” Fruen went back to the carriage. She ran, and the thick fur coat she had on was too heavy for her, she had to balance with her arms. It was pitiful to see; like a hen trying to escape across the barnyard, and flapping its wings to help. I went over to the carriage again, politely, even humbly. I took off my cap, and begged Fruen to give up this new journey. “You are not driving me!” she answered. “No. But if Fruen would only give it up and stay at home....” At this she was offended; she stared at me, looked me up and down, and said: “Excuse me, but this is no business of yours. Because I got you dismissed once....” “No, no, it's not that!” I cried desperately, and could say no more. When she took it that way I was helpless. Just for one moment a wave of fury came over me; I had only to put out my arms and I could lift her out of the carriage altogether, this child, this pitiful hen! My arms must have twitched at the thought, for she gave a sudden frightened start, and shifted in her seat. Then all at once the reaction took me; I turned foolish and soft, and tried once more: “It'll be so dismal for us all here if you go. Do let us try if we can't hit on something between us to pass the time for you! I can read a little, reading aloud, and there's Lars can sing. Perhaps I might tell stories--tell of something or other. Here's Grindhusen coming; won't you let me tell him you're not going after all?” She softened at this, and sat thinking for a little. Then she said: “You must be making a mistake altogether, I think. I am going to the station to meet the Captain. He didn't come the first day, or yesterday either, but he's sure to come some time. I'm driving over to meet him.” “Oh!” “There you are. Now go. Is Grindhusen there?” It was like a slap in the face for me. She was right; it sounded so natural--oh, I had made a fool of myself again! “Yes, here he is,” I answered. There was no more to be said. And I put on my cap again, and helped Grindhusen myself with the harness. So confused and shamed was I that I did not even ask pardon, but only fretted this way and that way seeing to buckles and straps. “You are driving then, Grindhusen?” called Fruen from the carriage. “Me? Yes, surely,” he answered. Fruen pulled the door to with a bang, and the carriage drove off. * * * * * “Has she gone?” asked the maids, clasping their hands.