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Updated: June 2, 2025
Thelma laughed. "Then it is better to spin, after all, Britta is it not?" Britta looked dubious. "I do not know," she answered; "but I am sure great ladies do not spin. Because, as I said to you, Froeken, this Jansena's mistress was a great lady, and she never did anything, no! nothing at all, but she put on wonderful dresses, and sat in her room, or was driven about in a carriage.
"You ask a plain question, Froeken," he said sweetly, "and I should be loth not to give you a plain answer. That way-that glorious way of salvation for you is through me!" And his countenance shone with smug self-satisfaction as he spoke, and he repeated softly, "Yes, yes; that way is through me!" She moved with a slight gesture of impatience.
Britta gazed at him still, with sympathy written on every line of her face, but a great load had been lifted from her mind by his words she began to understand everything. "I'm so sorry for you, Mr. Neville!" she said. "But why didn't you tell all this to the Froeken?" "I couldn't!" murmured Neville desperately.
"Where is my father?" As a man distraught, or in some dreadful dream, Valdemar approached her the strangeness of his look and manner filled her with sudden fear, he caught her hand and pointed to the dark Fjord to the spot where gleamed a lurid waving wreath of flames. "Froeken Thelma he is there!" he gasped in choked, hoarse tones. "there where the gods have called him!"
"God help the man!" exclaimed Ulrika startled. "Who is dying?" "She the Froeken Thelma Lady Errington she is all alone up there," and he pointed distractedly in the direction from whence he had come. "I can get no one in Bosekop, the women are cowards all, all afraid to go near her," and he wrung his hands in passionate distress.
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.
"Is it possible that you have seen her?" "Ah, George, what do you say now?" cried Errington delightedly. "Yes, yes, Valdemar; the Froeken Thelma, as you call her. Who is she? . . . What is she? and how can there be no pretty girls in Bosekop if such a beautiful creature as she lives there?" Valdemar looked troubled and vexed. "Truly, I thought not of the maiden," he said gravely.
"You, like others, must have known that Olaf Gueldmar's creed was a strange one his burial has been strange that is all!" And she skillfully turned the conversation, and began to talk of Thelma, her sorrows and sufferings. Britta was most impatient to see her beloved "Froeken," and quite grudged Sir Philip the long time he remained alone with his wife.
"Pause, unfortunate girl, ere you reject the strong shield and buckler that the Lord has, in His great mercy, offered you, in my person! For I must warn you, Froeken Thelma, I must warn you seriously of the danger you run!
That temper rose to a white heat just now, every drop of blood receded from his countenance, and his soft hands clenched themselves in a particularly ugly and threatening manner. Yet he managed to preserve his suave composure. "Alas, alas!" he murmured. "How sorely my soul is afflicted to see you thus, Froeken! I am amazed I am distressed! Such language from your lips! oh fie, fie!
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