told him and given him so much pain she took him in her arms:
"My dear friend, you must not be so distressed—you see that I am not. On the contrary, I am sometimes quite happy about it. When I think that I am going to have a child—a sweet little child, my very own—I can scarcely believe it. I think it will be so great a happiness that I can hardly grasp it now. A little living being, to belong to me only, to love, to live and work for. I sometimes think that then only will my life and my work be of some purpose. Don't you think I could make a name for myself good enough for the child too? It is only because I don't know yet how to arrange it all that I am a little depressed sometimes, and also because you are so sad.
"Perhaps I am poor and dull and an egoist, but I am a woman, and as such I cannot but be happy at the prospect of being a mother."
He kissed her hands:
"My poor, brave girl! It makes it almost worse for me to see you take it that way."
Jenny smiled faintly:
"Would it not be worse still if I took it in another way?"
Ten days later Jenny left for Copenhagen. Her mother and Bodil Berner saw her off at the station in the early morning.
"You are a lucky one, Jenny!" said Bodil, smiling all over her little soft brown face. And she yawned till the tears came into her eyes.
"Yes, some must be the lucky ones, I suppose. But I don't think you have anything to complain of either," said Jenny, smiling too; but she was several times on the point of bursting into tears when she kissed her mother farewell. Standing at