22/24 Thelma had gone!--gone, most probably, for one of those erratic journeys across the Fjord to the cave where he had first seen her. She would not come back, he felt certain; not even at her father's request would that beautiful, proud maiden consent to alter her plans. What an unlucky destiny was his! Absorbed in disappointed reflections, he scarcely heard the enthusiastic praises Lorimer was diplomatically bestowing on the _bonde's_ wine. He hardly felt its mellow flavor on his own palate, though it was in truth delicious, and fit for the table of a monarch. |