wishes for the coming day and what it was to consecrate. Oyvind was
obliged to admit, as he laid himself down, that he had never gone to
bed so happy before; he gave this an interpretation of his own,--he
understood it to mean: I have never before gone to bed feeling so
resigned to God's will and so happy in it. Marit's face at once rose
up before him again, and the last thing he was conscious of was that he
lay and examined himself: not quite happy, not quite,--and that he
answered: yes, quite; but again: not quite; yes, quite; no, not quite.

When he awoke he at once remembered the day, prayed, and felt strong,
as one does in the morning. Since the summer, he had slept alone in
the attic; now he rose, and put on his handsome new clothes, very
carefully, for he had never owned such before. There was especially a
round broadcloth jacket, which he had to examine over and over again
before he became accustomed to it. He hung up a little looking-glass
when he had adjusted his collar, and for the fourth time drew on his
jacket. At sight of his own contented face, with the unusually light
hair surrounding it, reflected and smiling in the glass, it occurred to
him that this must certainly be vanity again. "Yes, but people must be
well-dressed and tidy," he reasoned, drawing his face away from the
glass, as if it were a sin to look in it. "To be sure, but not quite
so delighted with themselves, for the sake of the matter." "No,
certainly not, but the Lord must also like to have one care to look
well." "That may be; but He would surely like it better to have you do
so without taking so much notice of it yourself." "That is true; but
it happens now because everything is so new." "Yes, but you must
gradually lay the habit aside."--He caught himself carrying on such a
self-examining conversation, now upon one theme, now upon another, so
that not a sin should fall on the day and stain it; but at the same
time he knew that he had other struggles to meet.