The sun is flashing on the window-panes; the sunbeams seem to be weaving threads of joy in rainbow tints.

You child!  How I love you!...

Come to me and stay with me—­or go when we have had our hour of delight.

* * * * *

The letter has gone.  Jeanne has rowed to the town with it.

She looked searchingly at me when I gave it to her and told her to hurry so that she should not lose the evening post.  Both of us had tears in our eyes.

I will never part with Jeanne.  Her place is with me—­and with him.  I stood at the window and watched her pull away in the little white boat.  She pulled so hard at the oars.  If only she is strong enough to keep it up....  It is a long way to the town.

Never has the evening been so calm.  Everything seems folded in rest and silence.  There lies a majesty on sky and earth.  I wandered at random in the woods and fields, and scarcely seemed to feel the ground beneath my feet.  The flowers smell so sweet, and I am so deeply moved.

How can I sleep!  I feel I must remain awake until my letter is in his hands.

Now it is speeding to him through the quiet night.  The letter yearns towards him as I do myself.

I am young again....  Yes, young, young!...  How blue is the night!  Not a single light is visible at sea.

If this were my last night on earth I would not complain.  I feel my happiness drawing so near that my heart seems to open and drink in the night, as thirsty plants drink up the dew.

All that was has ceased to be.  I am Elsie Bugge once more, and stand on the threshold of life in all its expanse and beauty.

* * * * *

He is coming....

He will come by the morning train.  It seems too soon.

Why did he not wait a day or two?  I want time to collect myself.  There is so much to do....

How my hands tremble!

* * * * *

I carry his telegram next my heart.  Now I feel quite calm.  Why will
Jeanne insist on my going to bed?  I am not ill.

She says it is useless to arrange the flowers in the vases to-night, they will be faded by to-morrow.  But can I rely on Torp’s seeing that we have enough food in the house?  My head is swimming....  The grass wants mowing, and the hedge must be cut....  Ah!  What a fool I am!  As though he would notice the lawn and the hedge!...

Jeanne asks, “Where will the gentleman sleep?” I cannot answer the question.  I see she is getting the little room upstairs ready for him.  The one that has most sun.

* * * * *

Has Jeanne read my thoughts?  She proposes to sleep downstairs with Torp so long as I have “company.”

* * * * *

I have begun a long letter to Richard, and that has passed the time so well.  I wish he could find some dear little creature who would sweeten life for him.  He is a good soul.  During the last few days I seem to have started a kind of affection for him.