added several rooms to their house, and still
it was always full. So these brothers and sisters, from being poor,
very poor, came to be quite well-to-do. Intercourse with so many
strangers had made them a little different from the other country
people--they even knew something of foreign languages. Hans was now
twenty-seven. Some years before he had bought up his brothers' and
sisters' shares, so that the whole place belonged to him.

Not one of the family had ever set foot in the house of their
relations at Tingvold. Endrid and Randi Tingvold, though they had
doubtless never put the feeling into words, could just as little bear
to hear the name of Haugen as to hear the Bridal March. These
children's poor father had been made to feel this, and in consequence,
Hans had forbidden his brothers and sisters ever to go to the house.
But the girls at Tingvold, who loved music, longed to make
acquaintance with Hans, and when they and their girl friends were
together, they talked more about the family at Haugen than about
anything else. Hans's songs and tunes were sung and danced to, and
they were for ever planning how they could manage to meet the young
farmer of Haugen.

After this happy time of young companionship came Mildrid's
confirmation. Just before it there was a quiet pause, and after it
came another. Mildrid, now about seventeen, spent the autumn almost
alone with her parents. In spring, or rather summer, she was, like all
the other girls after their confirmation, to go to the soeter in
charge of cattle. She was delighted at the thought of this, especially
as her friend Inga was to be at the next soeter.

At last her longing for the time to come grew so strong that she had
no peace at home, and Beret, who was to accompany her, grew restless
too. When they got settled in the soeter Beret was quite absorbed in
the new, strange life, but Mildrid was still restless. She had her
busy times with the cattle and the milk, but there were long idle
hours that she did not know how to dispose of. Some days she spent
them with Inga, listening to her stories of her lover, but often she
had no inclination to go there. She was glad when Inga came to her,
and affectionate, as if she wanted to make up for her faithlessness.
She seldom talked to Beret, and often when Beret talked to her,
answered nothing but Yes or No. When Inga came, Beret took herself
off, and when Mildrid went to see Inga, Beret went crying away after
the cows, a