ful look about the fine wrinkles of the face. The remarkably well-shaped eyes, bluish in the white, were hard and piercing. They were large, dark brown eyes—much darker than Helge's.
She had been uncommonly pretty; yet Jenny was convinced she was right in thinking that Gert Gram had not been anxious to marry her. She was no lady as far as language and manners went—but many pretty girls of the middle classes soon turned harsh and sour when they had been married some time and shut up in a home, with worries of housekeeping and servants to spoil their life.
"Mr. Gram asked me to go and see you and give you the latest news about him," said Jenny. She felt she could not speak about him as Helge.
"I understand that he spent his time exclusively with you lately—he never mentioned anybody else in his letters. I thought he was in love with a Miss Jahrman at first."
"Miss Jahrman is my friend—there were several of us always together at first, but she has been very busy lately working at a large picture."
"Is she the daughter of Colonel Jahrman of Tegneby? Then I suppose she has money?"
"No; she is studying on a small inheritance from her mother. She is not on very good terms with her father—that is to say, he did not like her wanting to become an artist, so she refused to accept any help from him."
"Very stupid of her. My daughter, Mrs. Arnesen, knows her slightly—she stayed with us at Christmas. She said there were other reasons why the Colonel did not want to have anything to do with her; she is said to be very good looking, but has a bad reputation."
"There is not the least truth in it," said Jenny stiffly.
"You have a good time, you artists." Mrs, Gram sighed. "I cannot see how Helge could work at all—it seems to me
