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Updated: June 2, 2025
For lo, you yourself, Froeken Thelma," Dyceworthy started, "you yourself came hither unto my dwelling, a woman all unprotected, to a man equally unprotected, and who, though a humble minister of saving grace, is not proof against the offered surrender of your charms! Make the best of it, my sweet girl! make the best of it! You can never undo what you have done to-night."
"And now" she gasped "if the Froeken dies I will die too. I will you see if I don't! I w-w-won't live without her!" And such a big sob broke from her heaving bosom that it threatened to burst her trimly laced little bodice. "She will not die," said Ulrika decisively. "I have had my fears but the crisis is passed. Do not fret, Britta there is no longer any danger.
I won't believe it," and she stamped her foot passionately, "I can't believe it! . . . and yet everybody says that you go to see a dreadful, painted dancing woman at the theatre, and that you like her better than the Froeken, it isn't true, is it?" Here she peered anxiously at her master but he was absolutely silent.
"I think it's very probable she has been compelled to remain at Hull, and even at the worst, Britta can guide you all over Norway, if necessary. Nothing will daunt her!" And he nodded kindly to the little maid who had regained her rosy color and the sparkle of her eyes in the eagerness she felt to rejoin her beloved "Froeken."
And the last time I saw Valdemar Svensen, he who lives with your father now, he was careful always to speak of the Jarl, and seldom or never did he mention him in any other fashion. And now, noble Froeken, in what manner can I serve you?" Thelma told him briefly that she was going to see her father on business, and that she was desirous of starting for Norway the next day as early as possible.
"What do you mean?" she asks abruptly, and with an air of surprise. The minister's little ferret-like eyes, drooped under their puny lids, and he fidgeted on the seat with uncomfortable embarrassment. He answered her in the mildest of mild voices. "You are unlike yourself, my dear Froeken!" he said, with a soothing gesture of one of his well-trimmed white hands.
Dyceworthy advanced, rather out of breath and somewhat heated, and smiling benevolently, nodded his head by way of greeting, without removing his hat. "Ah, Froeken Thelma!" he observed condescendingly. "And how are you to-day? You look remarkably well remarkably so, indeed!" And he eyed her with mild approval. "I am well, I thank you," she returned quietly. "My father is not in, Mr. Dyceworthy."
It was she who had rung the bell which had startled Sir Francis, and she was surprised that her summons was not answered. She rang again, and Britta appeared. "I wanted Morris," said Thelma quickly. "He thought it was the drawing-room bell," responded Britta meekly, for her "Froeken" looked very angry. "I saw him in the hall just now, letting out Sir Francis Lennox."
She made an act of contrition at once by putting her arms round Ulrika's neck and kissing her a proceeding which so much astonished that devout servant of Luther, that her dull eyes filled with tears. "Forgive me!" said the impetuous little maiden. "I was very rude and very unkind! But if you love the Froeken, you will understand how I feel how I wish I could have helped to take care of her.
Yea, He hath turned my desire towards you, Froeken Thelma, even as Jacob's desire was towards Rachel! Let me see this hand." He made a furtive grab at the white taper fingers that played listlessly with the jessamine leaves on the porch, but the girl dexterously withdrew them from his clutch and moved a little further back, her face flushing proudly. "Oh, will it not come to me?
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