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64 BIOGRAPHY.
as I was then, I could do nothing but cry in the beginning;
but, reproaching myself for this weakness, and fearing that
I should disturb my sisters’ innocent happiness, I soon
plucked up courage, sat down with them at the cosy coffee-
table, and before night we had many a hearty laugh to-
gether; I forget now at what innocent ideas, words, and
remarks. Only one little incident do I remember. In the
numerous accounts of travels that I read to my father dur-
ing the winter, when I occasionally stumbled upon words
or sentences which were not exactly fit to be read aloud, I
fell upon the idea of saying, “‘ Well, here comes some Latin.”
Often, when I was sitting up very late reading. and thought
that my father had fallen asleep, I stopped, when he sud-
denly looked up and said, “Is there now Latin again?”
He never found out what kind of Latin the book contained.
Our good, kind Hedda was not pleased to leave Arsta,
but she made no complaint; she was glad that I could
have some rest; and on the following day we wrapped her
well up in furs, and she set out for Stockholm.
I resumed my office of nurse to Agatha, and we lived a
quiet, cheerful, and cosy life at old Arsta. Agatha, with
her French vivacity, merry as a little bird, singing French
songs and romances, was happy to feel herself well, and
lived in the hope of perfect recovery. Fredrika, de-
lighted at the liberty which she enjoyed in the country,
and feeling herself independent of the whole world, read
and wrote a great deal, and wandered about alone in glen
and forest. She had also begun to practice medicine;
made up drugs of her own composition, and made several
successful cures. She had a peculiar luck in prescribing
medicines which there was reason to suspect would do her
patients more harm than good.
An old peasant woman, living some four or five English
miles from Arsta, came one day and begged Frediika to
give her some remedy for her eyes, in which she had for
some time felt a severe pricking, while she had observed
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