“No, no,” he murmured, and laid one hand gently on her shoulder, as if seeking tenderly to hold her back.

“Why not?” asked the girl earnestly.

“Because it is better so.  It would only hurt you more when we had to say good-bye—­after.”

“Oh, but that’s just why!” she cried passionately.

“No, no—­I ask it of you,” said he.  And, taking the girl’s head in his two hands, he kissed her softly on the brow.

A gleam of infinite tenderness shone in her eyes, but she did not speak, only bowed her head and nestled close to his breast.

A strange joy thrilled him—­he felt he had won a victory over himself.  Through his thin shirt he could feel the girl’s warm breath like a wave of summer sunshine, and, smiling with happiness, he stroked her hair.

It was in his mind to ask her if she did not think herself it was best as he said, when suddenly, ere he could speak, a burning gasp struck him like a flame; the girl’s hot lips were pressing fiery kisses on his breast; her arms slipped from his neck and twined themselves close about his waist.

“God in heaven—­be careful, child!” He took her arms and tried to draw himself away.  But, ere he could loosen her hold, he felt his body thrill in answer to her passionate caress—­a torrent of passion rose within him:  all thought of self-restraint was whirled away.

“Love, love!” he gasped, his voice almost breaking in tears.  He drew her up to him, and closed her thirsting lips with his own, crushing her body against his own till both lay breathless....

THE FIRST SNOWFALL

This year, it came later than usual—­not until just before Christmas.  And when it did come, it was like a rain of silver.

The children greeted it with joyful shouts and a wild throwing of snowballs; the women carried shovelfuls of snow into the rooms and spread it on the floor before sweeping; the men hung tinkling bells to their horses’ harness.

Men hurried briskly along the forest tracks, and the great high road to the town was packed with an unbroken throng of pilgrims.  All coming and going exchanged greetings, even with strangers—­a gay wave of the hand and a few words about the snow.

* * * * *

Twilight was falling.

Olof had just come in from his work in the forest, and was sitting in his little room in the peasant’s hut where he was quartered.  An elderly man stepped in—­a farmer from the same village.

“Evening—­and greetings from the town.”

“Evening,” said Olof heartily.  “Come in and sit down.”

“I’ve little time to sit.  I’d a message for you, that was all.  Stopped at Valimaki on the way out, and someone gave me this for you.”

He took out a small packet and handed it across.

Olof blushed up to the eyes, and stammered a word of thanks.