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and poured it over her bare arms. The day was cold,
when the washerwomen went down to the lake to
rinse the clothes. Stormy winds and squalls rushed
by and covered them with mingled snow and rain.
Their skirts were dripping wet and heavy as lead.
It was hard work to wield the beating staff, and the
blood started from under the delicate finger-nails.
But Countess Elizabeth did not complain. Blessed
be the goodness of God! Where has the penitent
his happiness but in suffering? And the knotted
scourge falls as softly as rose leaves on the penitent’s
back.
The young Countess soon heard that Gösta Berling
lived. The older woman had only trapped her
into a confession. Well, what did it matter? See
God’s path! See God’s guidance! He has driven the
sinner thus into the path of atonement.
One thing she grieved about. What will become
of her mother-in-law, whose heart God, for her
sake, has hardened? Oh, He will judge her kindly!
She must be hard to help the sinner to win God’s
love again.
She did not know how often a soul, having proved
all the good things of the world, turns to find
pleasure in cruelty. When flattery and caresses, the
madness of dancing and excitement of gambling have
satiated the impatient darkened soul, it dives down
to its depths and finds cruelty there. In the torture
of men and animals there is still to be found a font
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