Nanna was silent. She drooped her head. "There is no danger of that,"
thought she, "for who will care to witness the change?"

"On next St. John's day," continued her father, "you must wear that
elegant silk shawl which belonged to your poor mother."

As Nanna heard these words, a smile of peculiar meaning passed over her
lips. It was the smile of a woman who anticipates a future triumph.

"Thank God," said the old man, turning the conversation in another
channel, "for all the blessings he has bestowed upon us. Although we may
now be in trouble, when Ragnar's packages arrive, we shall be in better
circumstances. Poverty has many blessings of which the rich man cannot
even dream. The poor man's gratitude and joy for even the slightest
piece of fortune is too great to describe. The rich man has not that
relish for the good things of life that the poor man has."

While honest Lonner was thus losing himself in his meditations, Nanna
moved in her seat uneasily, and dropped stitch after stitch of her
knitting-work. The former topic of conversation was endurable, but
this--

Meanwhile, however, she did not dare to express her desire to be
liberated from her irksome position. Why was she afraid to do so? She
asked herself the question; the only reply she could make was, that
yesterday it would have been easy for her to say, "Father, I want to
take a little walk in the meadow;" but to-day, oh! that was different!

"I see you have your bonnet on!" said her father, "were you about taking