ber how beautifully it was sung by a young Norwegian lady—a Miss Eck."
"Berit Eck. Do you know her, Mr. Hjerrild?"
"She was in Copenhagen two years ago studying under Ellen Beck. I knew her quite well. Do you know her?"
"My sister knew her," said Francesca. "I think you met my sister Borghild in Berlin. Do you like Miss Eck—or Mrs. Hermann as she is now?"
"She was a very nice girl—and good-looking. Extraordinarily gifted, too, I think."
Francesca and Hjerrild lagged behind.
Heggen, Ahlin, and Gram were to accompany the ladies home and have supper. Francesca had got a big parcel from home, and the table was laid with Norwegian Christmas fare, decorated with daisies from the Campagna and candles in seven-branched candlesticks.
Francesca came in last and brought the Dane with her.
"Wasn't it nice, Jenny, of Mr. Hjerrild to come too?"
There were butter and cheese, cold game and brawn and ham on the table, as well as drinks for the men. Francesca sat by Hjerrild, and when the conversation became more animated and general she turned to speak to him.
"Do you know the pianist, Mr. Hermann, who married Miss Eck?"
"Yes; I know him very well. I lived at the same boardinghouse with him in Copenhagen, and I saw him in Berlin on my way here."
"What do you think of him?"
"He is a handsome fellow, tremendously talented. He gave me some of his latest compositions—very original, I call them. I like him very much."
"Have you got them here? May I have a look at them? I should like to try them on the piano at the club. I knew him years ago," said Francesca.
