Ulrika, watching by the corpse of her aged friend, was soon joined by
others bent on sharing her vigil, and the house was presently filled
with woman's religious wailings and prayers for the departed. To all the
curious inquiries that were made concerning the cause of Lovisa's desire
to see the _bonde_ before she died, Ulrika vouchsafed no reply,--and the
villagers, who stood somewhat in awe of her as a woman of singular
godliness and discreet reputation, soon refrained from asking any more
questions. An ambitious young Lutheran preacher came, and, addressing
himself to all assembled, loudly extolled the superhuman virtues of the
dead "Mother of the village," as Lovisa had been called,--amid the
hysterical weeping and moaning of the mourners, he begged them to look
upon her "venerated face" and observe "the smile of God's own peace
engraven there,"--and amid all his eloquence, and the shrieking
excitement of his fanatical hearers, Ulrika alone was silent.
She sat stern and absorbed, with set lips and lowered eyelids at the
head of the bed whereon the corpse was now laid out, grimly rigid,--with
bound-up jaws, and clasped fingers like stiff, dried bones.
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