"Aha! So steht's!" he broke forth, with
another burst of merriment; then, softened by the
sight of a tear that was slowly gathering beneath
her eyelashes, he checked his laughter,
crept up to her side, and in a half childishly
coaxing, half caressing tone, he whispered:
"Dear little cousin, indeed I didn't mean to
hurt your feelings. You are not angry with
me, are you? And if you will only promise me
not to tell, I have something here which I should
like to show you."
He well knew that there was nothing which
would sooner soothe Inga's wrath than confiding
a secret to her; and while he was a boy, he had,
in cases of sore need, invented secrets lest his
life should be made miserable by the sense that
she was displeased with him. In this instance
her anger was not strong enough to resist the
anticipation of a secret, probably relating to
that little drama which had, during the last
weeks, been in progress under her very eyes.
With a resolute movement, she brushed her
tears away, bent eagerly forward, and, in the
next moment, her face was all expectancy and
animation.
Arnfinn pulled a thick black note-book from
his breast pocket, opened it in his lap, and read:
"August 3, 5 A. M.--My little invalid is doing
finely; he seemed to relish much a few dozen
flies which I brought him in my hand. His
pulse is to-day, for the first time, normal. He
is beginning to step on the injured leg without
apparent pain.
"10 A. M.--Miss Augusta's eyes have a strange,
lustrous brilliancy whenever she speaks of subjects
which seem to agitate the depths of her
being.
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