"Godfather, I hope you'll consent to our having the wedding soon?"
Thora, who had been looking pale and nervous, colored up with a glad look, while Helga, who had been flushed and excited, grew white and rigid.
"What do you call soon, Oscar--Easter?" asked the Factor.
"Earlier, much earlier, say the middle of January at latest," said Oscar.
"But what does Thora say?"
Rising from her seat, with brightening eyes and heaving bosom, Thora crossed over to Oscar and kissed him.
"So that's what Thora says!" laughed the Factor. "Very well, I'm willing! The middle of January let it be then, and fix the date between you."
Helga's white face quivered. "So that's settled!" she cried, and leaping up she went across to the piano and began to play with great vigor. She played the wild "Ride of the Valkyries," becoming faster and louder at every bar.
Oscar was in torture, and he went home early. "What a mercy Helga does not know!" he thought. "If she did, I could not trust myself even yet! And if she loves me as I love her--good God!"
But Thora was very happy. Going to bed that night she thought, "How wrong I have been about Oscar; how cruelly, wickedly, shamefully wrong!"