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"Ay, got there at last, so she writes, but little thanks to you." "I'll have you out of Breidablik, and that sharp," said Axel. "Ay, if you'd be so kind," said the other, with a sneer. "But we'll be going of ourselves at the new year," he said, and went on his way. So Barbro was gone to Bergen ay, 'twas as Axel had thought. He did not take it to heart. Take it to heart?
I'm going back now to get your supper and make the coffee, and after that I can do as I please." They came home with the quarrel at its height. No, they were not always the best of friends, Axel and Barbro; there was trouble now and again. She had been with him now for a couple of years, and they had had words before; mostly when Barbro talked of finding another place.
Barbro asked: "What's this about you taking over the telegraph after father?" "What? Who said a word about that?" "Well, they say it's to be." "Why," said Axel, "it may come to something; I'll not say no." "Ho!" But why d'you ask?" "Nothing," said Barbro; "only that you've turned my father out of house and home, and now you're taking the bread out of his mouth." Silence.
"Don't ask me," said Barbro. "Or perhaps you've got a place for them to be there?" Axel was still loth to quarrel with her, but he could not help letting her see he was surprised at her, just a little surprised. "You're getting more and more cross and hard," said he, "though you don't mean any harm, belike." "I mean every word I say," she answered.
And if there had been nothing wrong, it would have been far better to have had the child buried decently in the churchyard. Not there in the bushes, there on his land.... "No. 'Twould only have made a fuss," said Barbro. "They'd have cut it open and had an inquest, and all that. I didn't want to be bothered." "If only it mayn't come to worse later on," said he.
Ay, he had been away, gained confidence and high spirits once more; he had tasted excitement of a sort, and he made things livelier at Axel's little place. Barbro herself was by no means to be despised; at any rate she was the only one anywhere near. She played the guitar and talked readily; moreover, she did not smell of tansy, but of real scent, the sort you buy in shops.
There's Barbro married at Maaneland, and Helge out at the herring fishery; they send home something in money or money's worth as often as they can; ay, even Katrine, doing waiting at home, managed, strangely enough, to slip a five-Krone note into her father's hand last winter, when things were looking extra bad.
After that it was easier all round; Eleseus brightened up, and got on finely. They flirted and joked and laughed, and were excellent friends. "When you took my hand just now it was like a bit of swan's down yours, I mean." "Oh, you'll be going back to town again, and never come back here, I'll be bound," said Barbro. "Do you think I'm that sort?" said Eleseus.
Oh, an ordinary woman enough, as the world finds them; Cook went out without leave herself. They took it in turns. And it was quite a long time before they were found out. Barbro was by no means so depraved that it showed in her face, impossible to accuse her of immorality. Immorality? She made all the resistance one could expect.
'Twas not as if they were strangers; they had talked over everything before. Even the necessary marriage ceremony was to take place before St. Olaf's Day and harvest; they had no need to hide things, and Barbro was now herself most eager to get it done at once.
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