“Twenty-seven,” answered Per.

That was neither many nor few, so there was no more to be said about that.

“You did row hard yesterday,” said she, looking down, for now she felt that they were nearing the point.

“It was because—­because I was alone in the boat,” returned he, stammering.  He saw at once that it was a stupid remark, but it was said and could not be mended.

“Perhaps you prefer to be alone in the boat?” she asked hastily, fixing her eyes upon him.  But when she saw the long helpless creature standing before her in such a miserable state of confusion, strong and handsome as he was, she sprang up, threw her arms round his neck, and said, half laughing, half crying, “Oh, Per!  Per!”

Per had not the faintest idea how he ought to behave when a lady had her arms round his neck, and so stood perfectly still.  He looked down upon her long dark hair and slender figure, and, trembling at his own audacity, he put his heavy arm limply round her.

They were now out on the dunes, and she sat down behind one of the largest tussocks, on the warm sand.  He ventured to place himself by her side, and looked vacantly around him.  Every now and then he cast his eye upon her, but still doubtfully.  It was clear that he did not grasp the situation, and at length he appeared to her so absurd that she sprang up, and cried, “Come, Per, let’s have a run!”

Away they went, now running, now at a foot’s pace.  His heavy sea-boots made a broad impression upon the sand, and the mark of her shoe looked so tiny by the side of it that they could not help turning round and laughing.  They jested and laughed as if they knew not that they were no longer children, and she made Per promise to give up chewing tobacco.

Away along the curving shore, with the salt breath of ocean fresh upon them, went these young hearts, rejoicing in their existence, while the sea danced in sparkling wavelets at their feet.

The attache had just finished a letter to his brother; it was one of these wearisome business letters, enclosing some papers he had had to sign.  He never could make out where the proper place was for him to put his name on these tiresome, long-winded documents.  But, wonderful to relate, his brother always told him that it was perfectly correct, and Christian Frederick was most particular in such matters.  The old gentleman had just sent off the letter, and was beginning to breathe more easily, when he went to the window and looked out.  He discovered two forms going in a northerly direction over the sand-hills.

Half abstractedly, he went to the other window and directed the large telestope upon them.

“Humph!” said he, “I declare, they’re there again.”

Suddenly he took his eye from the telescope.

“Hulloa! the girl must be mad.”