He looked at her quickly. Did she repent of the life-work she had chosen?
"In the stores of your knowledge," he asked presently, his eyes on the hills, "do you include geology?"
"Among the rags and tags of my information," she replied, "I do not." "Oh, Sir Douglas, Sir Douglas," she thought, "you faithless knight!"
"I seem to have put my foot in it," he thought vaguely, "but I cannot imagine how." And so he proceeded to do it again.
"They have a lot of quaint old silver rings at the hotel," he said, as they turned back, "and other ancient Norwegian curios. I should like your opinion of them. Are you an authority on the subject?"
"Far from it," she said. "But I should like very much to see them, and to compare the things I like with the things I ought to like. Pray," she added, with an expression of almost childlike entreaty, "don't let any one persuade you that I am a learned woman. I wish with all my heart that I were, but I'm not, and I can't bear to feel like a hypocrite."
"I don't think any one will ever take you for that," he said, smiling.
"I suppose it must be my own fault," she went on, with curious impulsiveness, not heeding his remark. "I suppose my manner is dogmatic and priggish. But what can I do? When I am interested in a subject, I can't stop to think about my manner."
"If I might venture to advise," he said, "I should certainly say, 'Don't attempt it.'"
The next day they sailed for Odde. The fjord was smooth as glass, and every hamlet and tree on the peaceful hillsides was reflected in the water. It was a day for dreaming rather than for talking, and they scarcely spoke, save when each bay and gorge brought into view a fresh spur of the mighty glacier.