"Cousin Inga," said Arnfinn, and this time

with as near an approach to earnestness as he
was capable of at that moment, "I do believe

that Strand is in love with Augusta."
Inga dropped the book, and sent him what

was meant to be a glance of severerebuke, and
then said, in her own amusingly emphatic way:

"I do wish you wouldn't joke with such
things, Arnfinn."

"Joke! Indeed I am not joking. I wish to
heaven that I were. What a pity it is that she

has taken such a dislike to him!"
"Dislike! Oh, you are a profound philosopher,

you are! You think that because she
avoids--"

Here Inga abruptly clapped her hand over
her mouth, and, with sudden change of voice

and expression, said:
"I am as silent as the grave."

"Yes, you are wonderfully discreet," cried
Arnfinn, laughing, while the girl bit her under

lip with an air of penitence and mortification
which, in any other bosom than a cousin's would

have aroused compassion.
"Aha! So steht's!" he broke forth, with

another burst of merriment; then, softened by the
sight of a tear that was slowly gathering beneath

her eyelashes, he checked his laughter,
crept up to her side, and in a half childishly

coaxing, half caressing tone, he whispered:
"Dear little cousin, indeed I didn't mean to

hurt your feelings. You are not angry with
me, are you? And if you will only promise me

not to tell, I have something here which I should
like to show you."

He well knew that there was nothing which
would sooner soothe Inga's wrath than confiding

a secret to her; and while he was a boy, he had,
in cases of sore need, invented secrets lest his

life should be made miserable by the sense that
she was displeased with him. In this instance

her anger was not strong enough to resist the
anticipation of a secret, probably relating to

that little drama which had, during the last
weeks, been in progress under her very eyes.

With a resolutemovement, she brushed her
tears away, bent eagerly forward, and, in the

next moment, her face was all expectancy and
animation.

Arnfinn pulled a thick black note-book from
his breast pocket, opened it in his lap, and read:

"August 3, 5 A. M.--My little invalid is doing
finely; he seemed to relish much a few dozen

flies which I brought him in my hand. His
pulse is to-day, for the first time, normal. He

is beginning to step on the injured leg without
apparent pain.

"10 A. M.--Miss Augusta's eyes have a strange,
lustrous brilliancy whenever she speaks of subjects

which seem to agitate the depths of her
being. How and why is it that an excessive

amount of feeling always finds its first expression
in the eye? One kind of emotion seems to widen

the pupil, another kind to contract it. TO be
noticed in future, how particular emotions affect

the eye.
"6 P. M.--I met a plover on the beach this

afternoon. By imitating his cry, I induced him
to come within a few feet of me. The plover,

as his cry indicates, is a very melancholy bird.
In fact I believe the melancholytemperament to

be prevailing among the wading birds, as the
phlegmatic among birds of prey. The singing

birds are choleric or sanguine. Tease a thrush,
or even a lark, and you will soon be convinced.

A snipe, or plover, as far as my experience goes,
seldom shows anger; you cannot tease them.

To be considered, how far the voice of a bird may
be indicative of its temperament.

"August 5, 9 P. M.--Since the unfortunate
meeting yesterday morning, when my intense

pre-occupation with my linnet, which had torn
its wound open again, probably made me commit

some breach of etiquette, Miss Augusta
avoids me.

"August 7--I am in a most singular state.
My pulse beats 85, which is a most unheard-of

thing for me, as my pulse is naturally full and
slow. And, strangely enough, I do not feel at

all unwell. On the contrary, my physical well-
being is rather heightened than otherwise.

The life of a whole week is crowded into a day,
and that of a day into an hour."

Inga, who, at several points of this narrative,
had been struggling hard to preserve her gravity,

here burst into a ringing laugh.
"That is what I call scientific love-making,"

said Arnfinn, looking up from the book with an
expression of subdued amusement.

"But Arnfinn," cried the girl, while the laughter
quickly died out of her face, "does Mr.

Strand know that you are reading this?"
"To be sure he does. And that is just what

to my mind makes the situation so excessively
comical. He has himself no suspicion that this

book contains anything but scientific notes. He
appears to prefer the empiric method in love as

in philosophy. I verily believe that he is
innocently experimenting with himself, with a view

to making some great physiological discovery."
"And so he will, perhaps," rejoined the girl,

the mixture of gayety and grave solicitude
making her face, as her cousin thought, particularly

charming.
"Only not a physiological, but possibly a

psychological one," remarked Arnfinn. "But
listen to this. Here is something rich:

"August 9--Miss Augusta once said something
about the possibility of animals being immortal.

Her eyes shone with a beautiful animation
as she spoke. I am longing to continue

the subject with her. It haunts me the whole
day long. There may be more in the idea than

appears to a superficial observer."
"Oh, how charmingly he understands how to

deceive himself," cried Inga.
"Merely a quid pro quo," said Arnfinn.