The balcony-door was standing open, because they had forgotten to close it. But the weather was mild and there was hardly any wind. Now and again, a yellow leaf fell somewhere or other from the baluster. It began to grow dusk.  
Fru Adelheid sat with her head in her hands and stared out before her.
 
Cordt’s words kept ringing in her ears. She did not think either that Finn was as he used to be. He was restless, could not sit still, talked more than usual:
 
“Wherever I went, I found the fountain outside,” he said. “It followed me throughout my journey. There was not[207] a rushing noise so strong but the fountain sounded through it nor a night so still but it came rippling and sang me home again to the old room.... I wonder, did one of the owners of this house set it up?” he asked.
 
“I don’t think so.”
 
“Yes,” said Finn. “That must be it. I am sure of it. Perhaps it was the one who built the house. You see, it forms part and parcel of the old room ... it sums it all up. If there was nothing else but the fountain, it would all be here just the same. I must ask father.”
 
She shivered with cold and Finn shut the door:
 
“We are chilly people,” he said. “Both of us. We are not like father. He laughed at me yesterday when I came down to his room to say good-morning and wanted to shut the window. ‘Don’t, Finn,’ he said. ‘The autumn air is[208] bracing and healthy, it makes one young again ... sit in the draught and don’t be afraid, old man that you are!’”
 
“Yes, father is strong.”
 
Finn looked at her stealthily.
 
He had soon understood that his parents had drifted apart while he was abroad; and he suffered in consequence. He was as kind and affectionate to his mother as ever; but his thoughts were always harking back to Cordt, whatever they might be talking of:
 
“Father is so sad,” he said.
 
“I haven’t noticed it.”
 
She colored after saying this. But Finn was not looking at her, scarcely heard her reply:
 
“It was strange, mother ... out there, on my journey, ever so many times I had a feeling that I came upon father. Wherever I went, I would suddenly hear his voice ... then he would be close to me,[209] I walked with him, regulated my step by his and talked to him.”
 
He laid his head back in his chair and closed his eyes:
 
“Often it was as if he had been where I came and prepared everything for me, so that I saw him in every corner. Sometimes I felt that I must put off my departure until he came.”
 
“And did he come?”
 
“Always. Wasn’t that strange?”
 
“Yes.”
 
Fru Adelheid thought the sound of his voice was different from ordinary. He did not look at her, as he was used to do ... his thoughts were not with her.
 
“Where were you and father to-day?” she asked.
 
“We went out into the woods ... a long way out. Father was silent, but not so bored as at home. It was so lovely[210] out there ... and so strange. One could hardly see a thing ... for the leaves falling.”
 
“Yes,” said Fru Adelheid.
 
Then she bent over him to look into his face, which had grown thinner and paler during the time that he was away:
 
“Finn,” she said, “was I not with you ... out there ... when you were travelling?”
 
Finn smiled and nodded his head:
 
“You came in your letters,” he said. “That father never did. But you were mostly here at home, where I was longing to be.”
 
She thought it was strange that he did not take her hand when he said that.
 
And, suddenly, she became conscious that she was sitting in terror lest he should slip away from her.
 
What had she to hold him with, if anything seized him that was stronger than[211] the............