did. Her eyes were larger and softer; her colour was higher; she was

quieter in her ways, not so restless, and certainly not so testy. She used to sit contentedly with her curtains while he worked at his painting, and could now admire what he did. She talked no more about the difference between a man's heart and a woman's, perhaps because she knew more. It was not hard to discern these changes in her.

"This wagon," said Gunnar, "is a paragon. It is my masterpiece." The time had come when all was done, even to the hangings of Frey's bed, and the containing boards of the same.

"Now, sweetheart," said he, "it is for you to consider whether we shall not give your lord a lick of paint. To my eye he would be the better for it, but you know his fancy better than I do."

She said shortly, "He is well enough." She could not bear his jokes about Frey just now.

"He is not then," said Gunnar. "He will look shabby in his new wagon. Just try him for yourself and see."

She was most unwilling, but yet she allowed him to put Frey up in the forepart of the wain.

"Look at him," said Gunnar. "Look at the brown blur upon his neck; and see how smeared his cheeks are. There is no shine left. To my thinking he is failing in one eye. It is like the eye of a dead fish. There should be new gilding on his cone. Strange how a new wagon shows him up."

She was not looking at Frey at all; but when Gunnar had him down in the court and was about to take his clothes off, she sprang forward with flaming cheeks and dangerous eyes. "I dare you to touch him."

Gunnar stood. "As you please," he said. "It is nothing to me. Let him go bleary to his work."

She shifted about and paced the court uneasily. "He is very well as he is. If anything is to be done to him I will do it."

"As you please," said Gunnar again, and left the court. He went out into the forest where the birds were singing. He looked to see if any were nesting yet, and was away three or four hours.

When he came back Frey was in his house again, and he examined what Sigrid had done. She had washed him; Gunnar thought he looked sadly bleached about the chaps, and there were flaws in his beard. His neck was pinker. She had tried to repaint his right eye.

While he was looking at Frey Sigrid came in. She was flushed, and prepared to be angry in a moment.

"I suppose you think I have made matters worse," she said.

"What do you think yourself?" he asked her.

"He will do well enough," she answered. But he told her, "You have not helped his eye-works. He is looking two ways at once."

"It is what you would say."

"It is what I do say," he answered, "because it is true."

"I know what you think of him," she cried out sharply. "You have no need to tell me."

Gunnar replied: "He looked shabby before, and in want of a lick; but you have made him look like a boiled goose."

Sigrid was seriously vexed. She looked as if she was all over spines, like a teasel. But the worst of it was, that she knew he was right, as well as he did himself. Meantime Gunnar walked comfortably about, by and large, while she stood opening and shutting her hands.

"You are hard to please," she said at last, in a dry voice. "Yet I do think that I have mishandled his right eye. Perhaps you will mend it for me."

"Ah," said Gunnar, "and for him too I will mend it, though he has no liking for me. Look at him, I ask you, from where you stand, and then from where I do. Whereas his eyes used to follow us about to see what we were doing, now he sees nothing of us at all. Kindly look for yourself."

She did as he told her. She examined Frey very carefully from where she stood and then crossed the floor and stood by Gunnar, but looked at Frey.

"Well?" said Gunnar.

Her answer was not in words, but she looked up at Gunnar with a faint smile. So then he kissed her again, and that kiss was a long one and lasted some time.

"Frey cannot see," she said presently, "and it is my fault. Mend his eye for me."

"Why," said Gunnar, "do you want him to see us?"

She said, "Not always--but sometimes it doesn't matter."

Gunnar said that he would put his eye right, and, more than that, he would freshen him up altogether. He pointed out many flaws in his painting.

Sigrid was not in the mood to deny him anything just now. She agreed readily, and was going away. But she came back again.

"Promise me one thing," she said.

"I will promise you a dozen things," said Gunnar.

"One only. It is that you will only paint what you can see."

Gunnar, who was very quick, said, "I will obey you; but in that case you must cover him in a blanket, lest I spoil his clothes."

She brought him a blanket, and left him. Gunnar put Frey's eye in order, and touched up his cheeks and scarlet nostrils for him. He sized the cone for gilding, and put a tinge more red into his beard.

Then he looked at him with his head on one side and one eye shut. "You are a fine figure of a god, Frey. We are something alike, I believe. But for all that I see that you don't love me."

He was at the end of the room as he stood; but for all that Frey had him in view, and looked furious.

After that there was nothing to do but wait the moment when Frey should start on his rounds.