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Updated: May 31, 2025
Valdemar Svensen had hastily blurted out the news of the bonde's death even while she and Sir Philip were alighting from their sledge and in the same breath had told them of Thelma's dangerous illness. What wonder, then, that Britta sobbed hysterically, and refused to be comforted, what wonder that she turned upon Ulrika as that personage approached, in a burst of unreasonable anger.
"It's all my stupidity, of course, Sir Philip is quite blameless he has been the kindest, the best of friends to me " his voice trembled more and more, and he could not go on. There was a silence of some minutes, during which Britta appeared absorbed in meditation, and Neville furtively wiped his eyes. Presently he spoke again more cheerfully.
A few minutes set them all talking gaily. Macfarlane vied with the ever-gallant Duprez in making a few compliments to Britta, who was pretty and engaging enough to merit attention, and who, after all, was something more than a mere servant, possessing, as she did, a great deal of her young mistress's affection and confidence, and being always treated by Gueldmar himself as one of the family.
Britta departed, and Thelma went rather slowly up-stairs. It was now nearly midnight, and she felt languid and weary. Her reflections began to take a new turn.
At that moment a light tap was heard outside, and a voice called "Thelma! Are you there?" Britta opened the door, and Sir Philip entered hurriedly and smiling but stopped short to survey his wife in dismay. "Why, my darling!" he exclaimed distressfully. "Have you been crying?" Here the discreet Britta retired. Thelma sprang to her husband and nestled in his arms.
"I have led her home, my love, my only friend; There is none like her, none! And never yet so warmly ran my blood, And sweetly on and on, Calming itself to the long-wished-for end, Full to the banks, close on the promised good." Britta was in the kitchen, dragging off her snow-wet cloak and fur mufflers, and crying heartily all the while.
And I am SO glad!" went on Britta, clasping her plump hands in ecstasy. "They are the grandest, handsomest Herren I have ever seen, and one can tell they think wonders of the Froeken nothing is too good for her!" Mr. Dyceworthy's face was the picture of dismay. This was a new turn to the course of events, and one, more over, that he had never once contemplated. Britta watched him amusedly.
"Oh no, no!" exclaimed Thelma anxiously. "It would vex me so much! Britta and I have often been alone before. We are quite safe, are we not, father?" "Safe enough!" said the old man, with a laugh. "I know of no one save Lovisa Elsland who has the courage to face thee, child!
"Why, there must be snow and darkness " "Snow and darkness at the Altenfjord!" suddenly cried Britta, catching at his words. "That's exactly what she said to me the other evening! Oh dear! I never thought of it I never remembered it was the dark season!" She clasped her hands in dismay. "There is no sun at the Altenfjord now it is like night and the cold is bitter.
"I think you must be wrong, Britta. It is impossible that there should be people who are always idle. I do not know what great ladies are like." "I do!" And Britta nodded her curly head sagaciously. "There was a girl from Hammerfest who went to Christiania to seek service she was handy at her needle, and a fine spinner, and a great lady took her right away from Norway to London.
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