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BIOGRAPHY. 9
“Bonne Amie” took us for a ride to pay a visit to the
curate’s wife.
In the little yard before the red-painted house lay a hil-
lock of sand, and on it were lying four children, busy with
large wooden ladles digging out walks and flower-beds.
We were so fortunate as to be allowed to join in their play
that afternoon, but never again.
The summer passed quickly away. We read and studied
industriously, and were a great deal out in the open air.
On Sundays, the Countess F— and her daughter,
then sixteen years old, were almost always invited to
dine with us. Countess F , the former owner of
Arsta, had, when she sold the estate, made it a condition
that she should be allowed to remain there over the sum-
mer. She occupied one part of the lower storey, and my
parents the other. The whole of the upper storey in the
old house was unfurnished, and consisted of very large
rooms with thick walls, and with heavy oak timbers across
the ceiling. The largest of these rooms was forty-eight
feet square, had nine high windows, and a gigantic chim-
ney, upon the upper part of which were resting two mas-
sive blocks of stone, in which the Bjelkenstjerna’s and the
Fleming’s arms were cut. The floor was inlaid with
squares of polished oak. ‘This room had in former times
been the banqueting hall, and the heavy, clumsy, horse-
shoe table, which took up two entire sides of the room,
was still remaining. On one of the small window-panes
was scratched, —
“ Lady Sigrid is a nincompoop,
So is also her beloved Soop.”
All the rooms were nineteen feet high; every step awoke
a loud echo; and the wind was incessantly whistling
through the small window-panes, loosely set in their leaden
frames. We were neither allowed, nor dared we go alone
to the upper storey; but, whenever we could, we watched
an opportunity for visiting the kind Countess F and
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