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Updated: May 9, 2025
"Why, Granny's blind!" she said, bubbling over with mirth. "Oh, that's it? Then it's hardly to be expected that you could see," he said, taking the old woman's hand. "Well, I'm your son-in-law, there's news for you." His voice rang with good-humor. Maren quickly raised her head. "Which of the girls is it?" asked she.
"The explanation of your adventure is very simple," said Mr. Maren. "I don't believe old Deluse walks in his sleep not in his present one; but you evidently dream in yours." And to this view of the matter Mr. Galbraith was compelled reluctantly to assent.
If Maren had only commenced, one might have believed it a trial of skill between Boreas and Zephyr. They now walked about, drank tea, and after this they were to return to the house, there to partake of fish and roast meat, a piece of boxed ham, and other good things.
How beautiful it would have been to go with Sören now; Maren would willingly have made the journey with him, to see what was on the other side had it not been for Ditte. A child had always kept her back, and thus it was now. Maren's own time was not yet; she must wait, letting Sören go alone. Sören now slept more quietly, and she drew her hand gently out of his.
To a woman they peeped at the gate from all the cabins of the post, save only that one who had been most eager before when the Indians came, Maren Le Moyne, sitting in idle apathy on her sister's doorstep. "Ma'amselle," said Marc Dupre, stopping hesitant before her, "have you seen the Nakonkirhirinons?" "Nay," she said listlessly, "I care not, M'sieu." And the youth went gloomily away.
"She's no forethought," said Sören significantly, "she's a woman. Wonder if a little rap over the fingers after all wouldn't " But Maren ignored this. Took the child inside with her and explained, perhaps for the hundredth time, that Girlie must not do so. And one day she had a narrow escape. Ditte had been up to mischief as usual in her careless way.
But it was only an old raven, flying westward to unearth a sow's ear which it had buried. "You're kicking up the dust!" cried Cousin Hans. Ola did not hear. "He's quite as deaf as Aunt Maren," thought Hans. "You're kicking up the dust!" he shouted, louder. "Oh, I beg your pardon!" said Cousin Ola, and lifted his feet high in air at every step.
Now and then he would ask in a low voice what the time was, and from this Maren knew that he was nearing his end. On the morning of the day he died he was altogether changed again. It was as if he had come home to take a last farewell of everybody and everything; he was weak but quite in his senses. There was so much he wanted to touch upon once again.
Presently Maren looked down at her, and the shimmering smile, like light across dark waters, had again returned. "Nay," she said gently, "fret not. It is spring-and you have at last a home." True, it was spring.
Ditte never understood how she knew this. Maren seldom went out now, so it did not matter to her what the weather was, but she was still as much interested in it. "What's the sky like?" she would often ask. Ditte would run out and peer anxiously at the skies, very much taken up with her commission. "'Tis red," she announced on her return, "and there's a man riding over it on a wet, wet horse.
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