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veranda, she used to creep close to him, and he kissed
her hair without her noticing it.
“But, you understand, his sin lay in his forgetfulness
of both past and future. That he was poor
and had no position in life, he might easily forget;
but he ought to have remembered that the day
would surely come when love would rise against
love in her mind, earth against heaven, and when
she must choose between him and the glorious Lord
of her dreams. And she was not one of those who
could survive such a strife.
“So passed the summer, the autumn, and winter.
When spring came, and the ice in the Löfven broke
up, Ebba Dohna lay sick. The springs were melting
in the valleys, the brooks were swelling, the ice
on the lakes was insecure, roads were impassable
both for sledges and wheeled vehicles. Countess
Dohna wanted a doctor from Karlstad—there was
no one nearer—but she commanded in vain.
Neither threats nor prayers could induce any of the
servants to go for him. She begged the coachman on
her knees, but he refused. She had cramp and
hysterics, she was so alarmed over her daughter. She
was as uncontrolled in sorrow as in joy was
Countess Märta.
“Ebba Dohna had inflammation of the lungs,
and her life was in danger, but there was no doctor
to be had.
“Then the tutor rode to Karlstad. To cross the
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