dreary and depressing. He went mechanically
through the daily routine of his duties as if the
soul had been taken out of his work, and left
his life all barrenness and desolation. He
moved restlessly from place to place, roamed at
all times of the day and night through the city
and its suburbs, trying vainly to exhaust his
physical strength; gradually, as his lethargy
deepened into a numb, helpless despair, it seemed
somehow to impart a certain toughness to his
otherwise delicate frame. Olson, who was now
a junior partner in the firm of Remsen, Van
Kirk and Co., stood by him faithfully in these
days of sorrow. He was never effusive in his
sympathy, but was patiently forbearing with
his friend's whims and moods, and humored him
as if he had been a sick child intrusted to his
custody. That Edith might be the moving
cause of Olson's kindness was a thought which,
strangely enough, had never occurred to Halfdan.

At last, when spring came, the vacancy of his
mind was suddenly invaded with a strong desire
to revisit his native land. He disclosed his plan
to Olson, who, after due deliberation and
several visits to the Van Kirk mansion, decided
that the pleasure of seeing his old friends and
the scenes of his childhood might push the
painful memories out of sight, and renew his
interest in life. So, one morning, while the