When Freda had bidden them farewell, a week before, she had told Mrs. Edgecombe that she should be married within a week, so of course they were very much surprised to see her there. While Professor Edgecombe was explaining to the official, Freda told them that she had made Eric take her to New York on a wedding-trip, especially to see them sail. She had already entrusted the children with a little box of presents for her family and now she proudly showed Mrs. Edgecombe a photograph of her husband and herself, asking her to give it to her old mother with her own hands. Mrs. Edgecombe promised readily and Freda left the ship content. The last thing that the children saw, as the dock faded from view, was Freda, waving her handkerchief in farewell.
Their father left them in Paris, in the late summer, promising that he would be ready to welcome them when they reached Sweden. First, however, Mrs. Edgecombe took the children to Germany, so that it was late October before they boarded a steamer at Lubec, bound for Stockholm.
They would have liked to have stayed for awhile in this beautiful city, which is sometimes called “The Venice of the North,” but their mother was anxious to get settled in her Swedish home, so the following morning, they boarded a train for Upsala.
“Are we really going to keep house just as we do at home?” asked Dorothy, as the train left the rugged country near Stockholm. “I have rented an apartment for the winter,” replied their father, smiling, “but you will find that it is quite different from America in many ways.”
“I didn’t know that they had apartments in Upsala,” said John. “I have read that the name means ‘The Lofty Halls,’ and that the city is more old-fashioned than any other place in Sweden.”
“That is true,” said Professor Edgecombe, “but Upsala has some modern houses, although it is a very ancient city. The great castle on the hill, which we will visit, the cathedral where we will attend service and some of the University buildings are grand enough to mean ‘the lofty halls.’”
“Do the people wear native costume?” asked Mrs. Edgecombe.
“No,” said her husband. “Occasionally, perhaps, you will see a peasant wearing one of the pretty old-time costumes but, for the most part, even the peasants as well as the city people wear clothing much like ours.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Dorothy, for she had pictured to herself little girls wearing quaint, gaily-colored garments like those that Freda had described to her.
“Never mind, Dolly,” said her father, pinching her cheek playfully. “You will find enough that is unusual to satisfy you, I think.”