"It is probably best as it is, Hildur. It is nothing to speak of now, but it was kind of you to come."
She put her hands to her face, drew a breath as deep as a sigh, then raised her head again.
"No!" she said, "I can't do it in this way. I don't want you to think that I'm better than I am. There was some one who came to me and told me that you were not guilty and advised me to hurry over here at once and make everything right again. And I was not to mention that I already knew you were innocent, for then you wouldn't think it so noble of me to come. Now I want to say to you that I wish I had thought of this myself, but I hadn't. But I have longed for you all day and wished that all might be well between us. Whichever way it turns out, I want to say that I am glad you are innocent."
"Who advised you to do this?" asked Gudmund.
"I was not to tell you that."
"I am surprised that any one should know of it. Father has but just returned from the Sheriff. He telegraphed to the city, and an answer has come that the real murderer has already been found."
As Gudmund was relating this, Hildur felt that her legs were beginning to shake, and she sat down quickly in the chair. She was frightened because Gudmund was so calm and pleasant, and she was beginning to perceive that he was wholly out of her power. "I can understand that you can never forget how I behaved to you this forenoon."
"Surely I can forgive you that," he said in the same even tone. "We will never speak of the matter again."
She shivered, dropped her eyes, and sat as though she were expecting something. "It was simply a stroke of good fortune, Hildur," he said, coming forward and grasping her hand, "that it is over between us, for to-day it became clear to me that I love another. I think I have been fond of her for a long time, but I did not know it until to-day."
"Whom do you care for, Gudmund?" came in a colorless voice from Hildur.