When they came to the gate of Government House somebody suggested that Oscar, as a zealous Sagaman, ought to carry out the ancient custom of lifting his bride across the threshold; and then to Thora's delight, amid a squealing chorus of laughter, Oscar picked her up in his arms and carried her into the house, where Anna (who had gone on ahead) smuggled her up-stairs while the others went into the drawing-room to drink the last toast before parting.
A bright fire was burning in the bridal chamber, the curtains were drawn, the bed was laid open, and the room looked like a white nest of eiderdown when Thora, with a fluttering heart, stepped into it.
"What a day it has been!" she said.
"Hasn't it?" said Anna, closing the door behind them.
"Well, I can always say I had a wonderful wedding-day, can't I?"
"Indeed, you can. A woman has only two days in her life that are her own--her very own--and her wedding-day is one of them."
"And what is the other day, Anna?"
"The other? Oh, the other day is too far away for you to think about it yet, but all the days between belong to somebody else--her children or her husband."
"But how sweet! How beautiful! To live in your husband, to give up everything to him, your life, yourself, everything! There's happiness in that, isn't there, Anna?"
"Indeed, there is, my dear, and pain, too, perhaps. But there's something better in this life than happiness, Thora, and that's blessedness, you know."