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Updated: June 25, 2025
Sir Philip described their long drive through the snow, and so warmly praised Britta's patience, endurance, and constant cheerfulness, that his voice trembled with its own earnestness, while Britta grew rosily red in her deep shyness and embarrassment, vehemently protesting that she had done nothing, nothing at all to deserve so much commendation.
And and " here Britta's eyes filled "you have not thought, perhaps, that the journey may make the Froeken very ill and that when we find her she may be dying " and Britta's strength gave way in a big sob that broke from the depths of her honest, affectionate heart. "Don't don't talk like that, Britta!" cried Philip passionately. "I can't bear it! Of course, you shall go with me!
Britta's duties were slight she invented most of them yet she was always busy sewing, dusting, packing, or polishing. She was a very wide-awake little person, too, no hint was lost upon her, and she held her own wherever she went with her bright eyes and sharp tongue.
"I I am not well, Britta," she murmured, and suddenly her self-control gave way, and she broke into tears. In an instant Britta was kneeling by her, coaxing and caressing her, and calling her by every endearing name she could think of, while she wisely forbore from asking any more questions. Presently her sobs grew calmer, she rested her fair head against Britta's shoulder and smiled faintly.
But it was something more than mere fatigue that made Thelma's eyes look sometimes so anxious, so gravely meditative and earnest. One day she seemed so much abstracted and lost in painful musings that Britta's loving heart ached, and she watched her for some moments without venturing to say a word. At last she spoke out bravely "Froeken!" she paused, Thelma seemed not to hear her.
They were welcomed all along their route with true Norse hospitality, though the good country-folk who entertained them could not refrain from astonishment at the idea of their having undertaken such a journey at such a season, and appeared to doubt the possibility of their reaching their destination at all. And now that they had reached it in safety, Britta's strength gave way.
The tears were in Thelma's eyes too, and she hastened to put her arm round Britta's waist, and tried to soothe her by every loving word she could think of. "Hush, Britta dear! you must not cry," she said tenderly. "What did Philip say?" "He said," jerked out Britta convulsively, "that I was a g-good little g-girl, and that he was g-glad I wanted to g-go!"
Thelma needed no more words, she rushed to the door, threw it open, and vanished like a bird in air. Britta's joy at seeing her was too great for more than an exclamation of welcome, and the carriole, with the two girls safely in it, was soon on its rapid way back to the farm.
But Britta's name recalled the old woman to herself, and when she spoke again it was quite collectedly, and in her usual harsh voice. She seemed to forget all that she had just uttered, for she turned her eyes upon the bonde, as though she had but then perceived him. "So you are come, Olaf Gueldmar!" she said. "It is well for the hand of Death is upon me."
"The Froeken is out too," she said demurely. "It's time she had a little amusement; and the gentlemen treat her as if she were a queen!" Mr. Dyceworthy started, and his red visage became a trifle paler. "Gentlemen? What gentlemen?" he demanded with some impatience. Britta's inward delight evidently increased. "The gentlemen from the yacht, of course," she said. "What other gentlemen are there?"
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