and when you both come back, I’ll ask Godfrey to get his father to look out for a situation for me as governess in some town far, far from home, for I couldn’t stay here either.”  “Mina!” cried Lina, holding her sister from her at arm’s length, and looking at her in amazement, “with his parents?  With whose parents?” “Why—­Rudolph’s.”  “You meant Rudolph?” “Yes, why who did you mean?” “I?  Oh, I meant Godfrey.”  “No, did you really?” exclaimed Mina, throwing her arms round Lina’s neck, “but is it possible?  How is it possible?  We don’t mean the same after all then!” “Ah!” said Lina who was the most sensible of the two, “what a great deal of unnecessary pain we have given each other!” “Oh, how happy I am,” cried Mina, who was the least sensible, as she danced about the room.  “All will be well now.”  “Yes, Mina,” said Lina the sensible, joining in the dance.  “Everything will go on happily now.”  Then silly little Mina threw herself into her sister’s arms again—­she was so happy.

If people would only turn the handle of the door that divides them from their friends while there is yet time, all would go well with them, even though it might not bring such intense joy as it did to the two girls in the little garret-room.

The sisters cried one moment and laughed the next; then they danced round the room, and after that they sat on each other’s knees, and told how it all happened, and sorrowed over their own stupidity, which had prevented them seeing the true state of the case.  They wondered how it was that they had not had an explanation sooner, and then they confessed to each other exactly how matters stood between them and their cousins, and ended by being more than half angry with the two young men, whom they accused of being the real cause of the misunderstanding.  Lina said that she had been in great doubt before, but that ever since last Sunday she had been quite certain that Mina cared for Godfrey because of her constant tears; and Mina said that she had been miserable because of the wicked trick Rudolph had played in church about the sermon, and that she had been puzzled to account for Lina’s tears.  Lina then explained that she had been so very sorry for poor Godfrey’s disappointment.  All was made up now between the sisters, and when the dinner-bell rang they ran down-stairs together arm in arm, looking as sweet and fresh as two roses.  Braesig, who had seated himself with his back to the light that he might see them better, was very much astonished when he caught sight of their happy faces.  “What,” he said to himself, “these two girls changed and shy, and suffering from some secret grief?  In love?  Not a bit of it!  They’re as merry as crickets.”