She soon stopped asking questions. They drove on for miles in deep
silence. When they came to their first stopping place, which was an
inn, there were coffee and hot biscuits in readiness for them; and
on the tray were some more flowers. She knew then that he had
ordered this the day before, when passing. Was that, too, done only
out of kindness and pity? Was he happy yesterday? Was it only to-day
that he had lost heart, after seeing her come out of prison?
To-morrow, when he had forgotten this, perhaps all would be well
again.

Sorrow and remorse had softened Brita: she did not grant to cause
him any more unhappiness. Perhaps, after all, he really--


They stayed at the inn overnight and left early the next morning.
By ten o'clock they were already within sight of their parish
church. As they drove along the road leading to the church it was
thronged with people, and the bells were ringing.

"Why, it's Sunday!" Brita exclaimed, instinctively folding her
hands. She forgot everything else in the thought of going to church
and praising God. She wanted to begin her new life with a service
in the old church.

"I should love to go to church," she said to Ingmar, never thinking
that it might be embarrassing for him be seen there with her. She
was all devotion and gratitude! Ingmar's first impulse was to say
that she couldn't; he felt somehow that he had not the courage to
face the curious glances and gossiping tongues of these people. "It
has got to be met sooner or later," he thought. "Putting it off