top of which rich sheaves of oats
invite them to a magnificent meal; even the poorest day-labourer, if he
himself possesses no corn, asks and receives from the peasant a bundle
of corn, raises it aloft, and makes the birds rejoice beside his empty
barn.

Susanna had much to care for in the Christmas week, and was often up
late at night: in part, on account of her own business; in part, on
account of some Christmas gifts with which she wished to surprise
several persons around her. And this certainly was the cause of her
somewhat oversleeping herself on the morning of Christmas-eve. She was
awoke by a twittering of birds before her window, and her conscience
reproached her with having, amid the business of the foregoing day,
quite forgotten the little birds, to which she was accustomed to throw
out upon the snow, corn and bread crumbs; and they were now come to
remind her of it. Ah! were but all remembrances like to the twittering
of birds! With real remorse for her forgetfulness Susanna hastened to
dress herself, and to draw aside the window-curtain. And behold!
outside, before her window, stood a tall slender fir-tree, in whose
green top, cut in the form of a garland, was stuck a great bunch of
gold-yellow oats, around which great flocks of sparrows and bulfinches
swarmed, picking and chirping. Susanna blushed, and thought "Harald!"
The people in the house answered with smiles to Susanna's questions, the
Steward had, indeed, planted the tree. The Steward, however, himself
appeared as if he were quite a stranger to the whole affair, betrayed
astonishment at the tree with the sheaf of oats, and could not conceive
how it had come there.

"It must," said he, "have shot forth of itself during the night;" and
this could only be proved from the wonderful strength of the excellent
Norwegian earth--every morsel of which is pulverised primary rock. Such
a soil only can bring forth such a miraculous growth.

In the forenoon, Harald went with Susanna into the farm-yard, where she
with her own hands divided oats among the cows; bread among the sheep;
and among the little poultry corn in abundant measure. In the community
of hens was there with this a great difference of character observable.
Some snatched greedily, whilst they drove the others away by force;
others, on the contrary, kept at a modest distance, and picked up well
pleased the corn which good fortune had bestowed upon them; others,
again, seemed to enjoy for others more than for themselves. Of this
noble nature was one young cock in particular, with a high comb, and a
rich cape of changeful gold-coloured feathers, and of a peculiarly proud
and lofty bearing; he gave up his portion to the hens, so that he had
scarcely a single grain for himself; regarding, however, the while, with
a noble chanticleer-demeanour the crowd which pecked and cackled at his
feet. On account of this beautiful behaviour, he was called the Knight,
by Susanna, which name he always preserved after that time. Among the
geese, she perceived with vexation that the grey one was still more
oppressed and pecked at by his white tyrant than ever. Harald proposed
to kill the grey one; but Susanna declared warmly, that if either of the
rivals were sacrificed it must be the white one.

In a house where there are no children, where neither family nor friends
assemble, where the mistress sits with her trouble in darkness, there
can Christmas bring no great joy. But Susanna had made preparations to
diffuse pleasure, and the thoughts of it had through the whole week,
amid her manifold occupations, illumined her heart; and, besides, she
was of that kind that her life would have been dark had it not been that
the prospect of always making somebody happy had glimmered like a star
over her path. Larina, Karina, and Petro tasted on this day of the
fruits of Susanna's night-watching; and when it was evening, and Susanna
had arranged the Christmas-table in the hall, and had seen it adorned
with lut-fish,[3] and roast meat, and sweet groats, cakes and butter,
tarts and apples, and lighted with four candles; when the farm-people
assembled round the table with eyes that flashed with delight and
appetite; when the oldest among them struck up a hymn of thanksgiving,
and all the rest joined in with folded hands and solemn voices--then
seemed it to Susanna as if she were no longer in a foreign land: and
after she had joined in with the hymn of the people, she seated herself
at the table as the most joyous, cordial hostess; clinked her glass with
those of men and maid servants; animated even the most colossal passion
for eating, and placed the nicest things before the weak and the timid.

Mrs. Astrid had told Susanna that she would remain alone in her chamber
this evening, and only take a glass of milk. Susanna wished, however, to
decoy her into enjoyment by a little surprise; and had laid the
following little plot against her peace. At the time when the glass of
milk was to be carried in to her, instead of this a very pretty boy,
dressed to represent an angel, according to Susanna's idea of one, with
a crown of light upon his head, should softly enter her room and beckon
her out. So beautiful and bright a messenger the lady would find it
impossible to withstand, and he would then conduct her out into the
great hall, where, in a grove of fir-trees, a table was covered with the
sweetest groats, and the most delicious of tarts, and behind the
fir-trees the people of the house were to be assembled, and to strike up
a song to a well-known air of the country, in praise of their lady, and
full of good wishes for her future life.

Harald, to whom Susanna had imparted her scheme, shook his head over it,
at first, doubtfully, but afterwards fell into it, and lent a helping
hand to its accomplishment, as well by obtaining the fir-trees, as by
fitting out the angel. Susanna was quite charmed with her beautiful
little messenger, and followed silently and softly at his heels, as with
some anxiety about his own head and its glittering crown he tripped
lightly to Mrs. Astrid's chamber.

Harald softly opened the door for the boy. From thence they saw the lady
sitting in an easy-chair in her room, her head bowed upon her hands. The
lamp upon the table cast a faint light upon her black-appareled figure.
The audible movement at the door roused her; she looked up, and stared
for some time with a wild glance at the apparition which met her there.
Then she arose hastily, pressed her hands to her breast, uttered a faint
cry of horror, and sank lifeless to the floor. Susanna pushed her angel
violently aside, and rushed to her mistress, who with indescribable
feelings of anguish she raised in her arms and carried to bed. Harald,
on the contrary, busied himself with the poor angel, who with his crown
had lost his balance, and while the hot tallow ran down over brow and
cheeks broke out into the most deplorable tones of lamentation.

Susanna soon succeeded in recalling her mistress to life; but for a long
time her mind seemed to be confused, and she spoke unintelligible
unconnected sentences, of which Susanna only understood the words,
"Apparition--unfortunate child--death!" Susanna concluded therefore that
the fabricated angel had frightened her, and exclaimed with tears, "Ah,
it was only Hans Guttormson's little fellow that I had dressed up as an
angel in order to give you pleasure!"

Susanna saw now right well how little fortunate had been this thought;
but Mrs. Astrid listened with great eagerness to Susanna's explanation
respecting the apparition which had shook her so much, and at length her
convulsive state passed off in a flood of tears. Susanna beside herself
for grief, that instead of joy she had occasioned trouble to her lady,
kissed, with tears, her dress, hands, feet, amid heartfelt prayers for
forgiveness.

Mrs. Astrid answered mildly, but with excitement: "Thou meant it well,
Susanna. Thou couldst not know how thou wouldst grieve me. But--think no
more about it; never more attempt to give me pleasure. I can never more
be joyful, never more happy! There lies a stone upon my breast which
never can be raised, until the stone shall be laid on my grave. But go
now, Susanna, it is necessary for me to be alone. I shall soon be
better."

Susanna prayed that she might bring her a glass of milk, and Mrs. Astrid
consented; but when she had brought it in she was obliged again to
withdraw, her heart full of anguish. When she came out to Harald she
poured out to him all her pain over the unfortunate project, and related
to him the deep agitation of mind, and the dark, despairing words of her
lady.

At this Harald became pale and thoughtful, and Susanna at that was still
more depressed. To be sure she had yet a little mine of pleasures
remaining, on whose explosion she had very much pleased herself, but
this in the disturbed state of mind produced but little effect. It is
true that Harald smiled, and exclaimed, "The cross!" when a waistcoat
made its appearance out of a wheaten loaf; it is true that he thanked
Susanna and pressed her hand, but he had evidently so little pleasure in
her present, his thoughts were so plainly directed to something else,
that now every gleam of pleasure vanished for Susanna from the Christmas
joy. When she was alone in her chamber, and saw from her window how a
little beam of light proceeded from every cottage in the valley, and she
thought how within them were assembled in confidential circles, parents,
children, brothers and sisters, and friends, then felt she painfully
that she was lonesome in a strange land; and as she remembered how
formerly on this evening she made her little Hulda happy, and how
fortunate her projects had always been, she took out a handkerchief
which had been worn on the neck of the little beloved sister, and
covered it with hot tears and kisses. Great part of the night she passed
on the threshold of her lady's door, listening full of anguish to the
never-ceasing footsteps within. But with the exception of several deep
sighs, Susanna heard no expression of pain which might justify her in
breaking in upon the solitude of her mistress.

We will now turn ourselves to a somewhat more lively picture.

There exists in Norway a pleasant custom, which is called Tura-jul, or
Christmas-turns. In Christmas week, namely, people go out to visit one
another by turns, and then in the hospitable houses is there feasting,
sporting, and dancing. That is called "the Christmas-turns."

And the "turns" extended also to the remote-lying solitary Heimdal. The
pastor of the mother parish, the friendly and hospitable pastor,
Middelberg, had sent an invitation to friends and acquaintances in the
whole neighbourhood, which included also the inhabitants of Semb, to a
feast at the parsonage, on the second day of Christmas.

Mrs. Astrid excused herself, but besought Harald and Susanna to drive
there. It had frozen a few days before, and had freshly snowed, so that
the sledging was excellent, and Harald now again in good humour seemed
disposed to make a little festival of driving Susanna to the parsonage
in a small sledge with jingling bells.

Mrs. Astrid had regained her accustomed manner and appearance, and thus
Susanna was easy as to all consequences of her unfortunate scheme on
Christmas-eve, and could give herself up with a free mind to the
agreeable impressions which the winter-drive offered. And these were
manifold and rich to a person who was so little used to pleasure of any
kind as Susanna, and who, besides this, was of a fresh, open spirit. The
air was so clear, the snow was so dazzling, mountain and woods so
splendid, the horse so spirited, and Harald drove so indescribably well,
the most difficult places being to him mere play-work, that Susanna
exclaimed every now and then, "Oh, how beautiful! Oh, how divine!"

With all this, Harald was uncommonly polite and entertaining. Attentive
in the extreme that Susanna sate comfortably, was warm about the feet,
and so on, laid himself out at the same time to make her acquainted with
all wonders and beauties of the district; besides which he related much
that was interesting of the peculiarities of the neighbourhood, of its
woods, mountains, and kinds of stones, spoke of the primeval mountains
and transition-formations, of that which had existed before the Flood,
and of that which had been formed after it, so that Susanna was
astonished at his great learning, and a feeling of reverence for him was
excited in her mind. It is true that she forgot this for one while, in a
quarrel which suddenly arose between them respecting the sun, which,
according to Harald's assertion, must appear brighter in Norway than in
Sweden, which Susanna contended against most vehemently, and assured him
of exactly the opposite; and about the strata of air, of which Susanna
asserted that they lay in Norway different to Sweden; upon the whole,
however, the drive was harmonious, and in the highest degree
advantageous to Harald's appearance. By his driving, his politeness, and
his learning, he had attained to something quite grand and extraordinary
in Susanna's eyes.

When, after a drive of about six miles, they approached the
parsonage-house, they saw from all sides the little sledges issuing from
the passes of the valleys, and then hastening forward in the same
direction as themselves across the fields of snow. Steaming breath came
from the nostrils of the snorting horses, and merrily jingled the bells
in the clear air. Susanna was enraptured.

No less was she enraptured by the cordiality with which she saw herself
received at the parsonage--she, a foreign serving-maiden--by foreign,
wealthy, and respectable people. Susanna was, besides this, very curious
to see bow things looked, and how they went on, in a respectable
parsonage in Norway; and it was therefore very agreeable to her, when
the kind Madame Middelberg invited her to see the house, and allowed her
to be conducted by her eldest daughter, Thea Middelberg, everywhere,
from the cellar even to the garret. Susanna, after this, felt great
esteem for the arrangements in the parsonage-house; thought that she
could learn various things from it; other things, however, she thought
would have been better according to her Swedish method. Returned to the
company, Susanna found much to notice and much to reflect upon. For the
rest, she was through the whole of this day in a sort of mental
excitement. It seemed to her, as if she saw the picture of comfort and
happiness of which she had sometimes dreamed, here realised. It seemed
to her, that life amid these grand natural scenes and simple manners
must be beautiful. The relationship between parents and children,
between masters and servants, appeared so cordial, so patriarchal. She
heard the servants in the house of the clergyman call him and his wife,
father and mother; she saw the eldest daughter of the house assist in
waiting on the guests, and that so joyously and easily, that one saw
that she did it from her heart; saw a frank satisfaction upon all faces,
a freedom from care, and a simplicity in the behaviour of all; and all
this made Susanna feel quite light at heart, whilst it called forth a
certain tearful glance in her eye.

"Have you pleasure in flowers?" inquired the friendly Thea Middelberg;
and when Susanna declared that she had, she broke off the most beautiful
rose which bloomed in the window and gave to her.

But the greatest pleasure to Susanna was in the two youngest children of
the house, and she thought that the heartful "mora mi" (my mother), was
the most harmonious sound which she had ever heard. And in that Susanna
was right also, for more lovely words than these "mora mi," spoken by
affectionate childish lips, are not in the earth. The little Mina, a
child about Hulda's age, and full of life and animation, was in
particular dear to Susanna, who only wished that the little romp would
have given to herself a longer rest upon her knee. Susanna herself won
quite unwittingly the perfect favour of the hostess, by starting up at
table at a critical moment when the dinner was being served, and with a
light and firm hand saving the things from danger. After this she
continued to give a helpful hand where it was needful. This pleased
much, and they noticed the young Swede with ever kinder eyes; she knew
it, and thought all the more on those who thought of her.

Towards the end of the substantial and savoury dinner, skеl was drunk
and songs were sung. Susanna's glass must clink with her neighbours,
right and left, straight before her and crosswise, and animated by the
general spirit, she joined in with the beautiful people's song, "The
old sea-girded Norway," and seemed to have forgotten all spirit of
opposition to Norway and Norwegians. And how heartily did not she unite
in the last skеl which was proposed by the host, with beaming and
tearful eyes, "To all those who love us!" and she thought on her little
Hulda.

But now we must go on to that which made this day a remarkable one for
Susanna.

After dinner and coffee were over, the company divided, as is customary
in Norway. The ladies remained sitting on the sofa and in armed chairs
round about, and talked over the occurrences in the neighbourhood,
domestic affairs, and the now happily-concluded Christmas business, and
"yes, indeed!" "yes, indeed!" was often heard among them.

The young girls grouped themselves together in the window, and there was
heard talk of "dress" and "ornament," "heavens, how pretty!" and jest
and small-talk.

In the next room sate the gentlemen together with pipes and politics.

Susanna was near to the open door of this room, and as she felt but
little interest in the subjects that were spoken of in her
neighbourhood, she could not avoid listening to that which was said by
the gentlemen within the room, for she heard how there a coarse voice
was abusing Sweden and the Swedes in the most defamatory manner.
Susanna's blood boiled, and involuntarily she clenched her fist.

"Oh, heavens!" sighed she, "that I were but a man!"

The patriotic burgomaster's daughter burned with desire to fall upon
those who dared to despise her fatherland. She could not hear this
coolly, and almost fearing her own anger she was about to rise and take
another place, but she restrained herself, for she heard a grave, manly
voice raised in defence of that foreign calumniated country. And truly
it was refreshing for Susanna to hear Sweden defended with as much
intelligence as zeal; truly it was a joy to her to hear the assertions
of the coarser voice repelled by the other less noisy, but more powerful
voice, and at length to hear it declaim, as master of the field, the
following lines, which were addressed to his native land on the occasion
of the death of Gustavus Adolphus the Great:

At once is dimmed thy glory's ray;
Thy flowery garland fades away.
Bowed mother! But thy brightness splendid
Shall never more be ended.
The grateful world on thee her love will cast,
Who mother of Gustavus wast![4]

Yes, truly was all this a feeling of delight for Susanna; but the voice
which spoke so beautifully--the voice which defended Sweden--the voice
which called forth the feeling of delight, this voice operated more than
all the rest on Susanna, for it was that of--Harald. Susanna could not
trust her ears, she called her eyes to their assistance, and then, as
she could no longer doubt that the noble defender of her country was
Harald, she was so surprised and so joyful that in the overflowing of
her feelings she might almost have done something foolish, had not at
that very moment one of the elderly ladies of the party come to her, and
led her into a quieter corner of the room, in order to be able there
quietly to question her of all that she wished to know. This lady
belonged to that class (scattered in every country of the world) which
has a resemblance to the parasite growth, inasmuch as it grows and
flourishes by the nourishment which it seeks from the plants on which it
fixes itself. As this lady wore a brown dress, and had brown ribbons in
her cap, we find it very appropriate to call her Madame Brun. Susanna
must now give Madame Brun an account of her family, her home, all her
connexions, why she was come into Norway, how she liked living there,
and so on. In all this Susanna was tolerably open-hearted; but when the
discourse was turned upon her present situation, and her lady, she
became more reserved. On this subject, however, Madame Brun was less
disposed to question than to relate herself.

"I knew Mrs. Astrid," said she, "in our younger days, very well. She was
a very handsome lady, but always rather proud. However, I did not mind
that, and we were right good friends. People told me that I ought to pay
a visit to Semb, but--I don't know--I have never seen her since she has
been so strange. My God, dear friend, how can you live with her? She
must be so horribly gloomy and anxious!"

Susanna replied by a warm burst of praise of her lady, and said, "that
she was always sorrowful, and appeared to be unhappy, but that this only
bound her to her all the more."

"Unhappy!" began Madame Brun again. "Yes, if that were all--but alas!"

Susanna asked in astonishment what she meant.

Madame Brun answered, "I say and think nothing bad of her, and always
defend her, but in any case there is something odd about her. Could you
really believe that there are people wicked enough to speak----to
suspect----a murder?"

Susanna could neither think nor speak--she only stared at the speaker.

"Yes, yes," continued Madame Brun, fluently; "so people say! To be