Nanna was now in her sixteenth year; but to all appearances she was much younger.  Unlike others of her years, her cheeks did not display the bloom of maidenhood, and her countenance lacked the vivacity natural to her age.  Her features wore an expression of melancholy, which was perfectly in keeping with the pallor of her cheeks, the pearly whiteness of which vied in brilliancy with the hue of a lily.

Nanna was the child of poverty, and belonged to that class of beings, who, situated between riches and nobility on the one hand, and poverty on the other, are considered as upstarts by the wealthy as well as the poor.

Nanna’s father, when young, was placed in an entirely different position of life than that in which we now find him.  An illegitimate son, he entered the world with a borrowed title, but with fair prospects for the future; for his father, a man of consequence and wealth, intended to marry his mother, and thus the son would bear no longer the stigma of his father’s crime.  But death, who in this case had been forgotten, suddenly cut the thread of his father’s life, and the mother and son were driven forth from the house of their protector, deprived of honor, wealth, and station.

This is an old, very old and thread-bare story, and not more novel is that which generally follows.  First comes melancholy, then great exertions on the part of the injured party; next dashed hope, and finally gloomy resignation.

The mother died, the son lived to pass through the life we have above described, but which was ended, however, by matrimony.  He married after he had passed his fortieth year.

Before his marriage, Carl Lonner passed through the various gradations in society, from the nobleman to the simple gentleman.  He supported himself by revenues he derived from a small business, and by drawing up legal papers for the surrounding peasantry and fishermen.  For a wife he had chosen the daughter of a half pay sergeant, and in this case his fortunate star was in the ascendant, for she not only brought him a loving heart, but also the little farm on which he resided at the date of our story.

We will now, however, turn our attentions to Nanna, who is sitting beneath the tree near the spring, in which she has been bathing her feet.

* * * * *

As Nanna glanced into the clear water of the spring, she shuddered convulsively, although the air was warm, for it was a June evening, but it was a shudder from within that shook her slight form.  Nanna had lately perceived that her dear sister-in-law, Magde, when she thought herself unseen, had shed tears, and the poor girl’s heart beat with a sensation of undefined fear, for when Magde weeps, thought she, there must have been a great cause.