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It's SUCH a nuisance!" "Why do it, then?" Bertram suggested, watching her face very narrowly. "Well, I suppose because of what you would call a fetich," Frida answered laughing. "I know it's ridiculous. But everybody expects it, and I'm not strong-minded enough to go against the current of what everybody expects of me." "You will be by-and-by," Bertram answered, with confidence.
"All this morning hast thou sat there with that knitting on thy lap, and scarce worked a round at it. And your violin why, Frida, you have not played on it for weeks, and even Hans notices it; and Wilhelm says to me no longer ago than this morning, 'Why, wife, what ails our woodland child? The spirit has all left her, and she looks white and tired-like."
Frida had not quite approved of all this small episode, for she too believed in the righteousness of taboo, like most other Englishwomen, and devoutly accepted the common priestly doctrine, that the earth is the landlord's and the fulness thereof; but still, being a woman, and therefore an admirer of physical strength in men, she could not help applauding to herself the masterly way in which her squire had carried his antagonist captive.
Ingledew," Frida cried, trembling, yet profoundly interested; "if you talk like that any more, I shan't be able to listen to you." "There it is, you see," Bertram continued, with a little wave of the hand. "You've been so blinded and bedimmed by being deprived of light when a girl, that now, when you see even a very faint ray, it dazzles you and frightens you.
The day of Pastor Langen's visit to the hut, some time after her father's funeral, Frida was playing beside the door, and on seeing him coming up the path she rose from the spot where she was sitting and ran eagerly to meet him.
Frida knelt, and in a few simple words besought the Saviour to give His rest and peace to the suffering man. "Thanks, little Frida," he said as she rose. "I believe that prayer will be answered." And shutting his eyes he fell quietly asleep, and Frida slipped out of the room and joined Wilhelm in the Forest. "Is little Anna so very ill?" she queried as they walked.
As they sang the dying woman became quieter, her muttering ceased, and presently she fell into a quiet sleep; the last words she uttered before doing so were, "Jesus, Lover of my soul." Much moved in spirit, Frida quitted the house; she felt as if now she stood on the verge of discovering the name and relations of her mother.
To have their little woodland child play at a concert seemed to them an honour of no small magnitude. Hans in his eagerness pressed to her side, saying, "O Frida, I am so glad, for you do play so beautifully."
I know how you tended me when I was ill, and how you sent Frida to comfort me. You know, too, for you're a woman yourself, that all you could say, or anybody could, wouldn't separate two people who loved each other." Miss Trotter for the first time felt embarrassed, and this made her a little angry.
She tried to prevent him, but he went on in spite of her, with a man's strong persistence. Notwithstanding his gentleness he was always virile. "Good-bye!" he cried. "Good-bye! why on earth good-bye, Frida? When I left you before dinner you never said one word of it to me." "Oh, no," Frida cried, sobbing. "It's all Robert, Robert!
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