pictures that came thronging into her mind.

Hr. Bogstad had actually proposed to her--the rich and handsome Hr.
Bogstad; and she, the insignificant farmer girl, had refused him, had
run away from him. Signe Dahl, she ruminated, aren't you the most
foolish child in the world? He is the owner of miles and miles of the
land about here. The hills with their rich harvest of timber, the rivers
with their fish, and even the island in the lake, are his. To be
mistress over it all--ah, what a temptation. If she had only loved Hr.
Bogstad, if she had only liked him; but she did neither. She could not
explain the reason, but she knew that she could not be his wife.

How could such a man love her, anyway? Was she really so very good
looking? Signe looked down into the still, deep water and saw her own
reflection asking the question over again. There! her face, at least,
was but a little, ordinary pink and white one. Her eyes were of the
common blue color. Her hair--well, it was a trifle wavy and more glossy
than that of other girls, but--gluck! a stone broke her mirror into a
hundred circling waves. Signe looked up with a start. There was Hagbert
standing half concealed behind a bush.

"Oh, I see you," she shouted.

He came down to the water, grinning good-naturedly.

"Well," said he, "I didn't think you were so vain as all that."

"Can't a person look at the pebbles and fish at at the bottom of the
lake without being vain?" and she laughed her confusion away. "Say,
Hagbert, is your boat close by?"