these last two days, it struck
her forcibly that she had behaved without tact, without thought,
almost without modesty. She had never read or heard about anything
happening like this; she looked at it from the peasant's point of
view, and none take these matters more strictly than they. It is
seemly to control one's feelings--it is honourable to be slow to show
them. She, who had done this all her life, and consequently been
respected by every one, had in one day given herself to a man she had
never seen before! Why, he himself must be the first to despise her!
It showed how bad things were, that she dared not tell what had
happened, not even to Inga!

With the first sound of the cow-bells in the distance came Beret, to
find her sister sitting on the bench in front of the soeter-house,
looking half dead. Beret stood in front of her till she was forced to
raise her head and look at her. Mildrid's eyes were red with crying,
and her whole expression was one of suffering. But it changed to
surprise when she saw Beret's face, which was scarlet with excitement.

"Whatever is the matter with you?" she exclaimed.

"Nothing!" answered Beret, standing staring fixedly at Mildrid, who
at last looked away, and got up to go and attend to the cows.

The sisters did not meet again till supper, when they sat opposite to
each other. Mildrid was not able to eat more then a few mouthfuls. She
sat and looked absently at the others, oftenest at Beret, who ate on
steadily, gulping down her food like a hungry dog.

"Have you had nothing to eat to-day?" asked Mildrid.

"No!" answered Beret, and ate on. Presently Mildrid spoke again: "Have
you not been with the herds then?"

"No!" answered her sister and both of the boys. Before them Mildrid
would not ask more, and afterwards her own morbid reflections took
possession of her again, and along with them the feeling that she was
no fit person to be in charge of Beret. This was one more added to the
reproaches she made to herself all that long summer evening and far
into the night.

There she sat, on the bench by the door, till the blood-red clouds
changed gradually to cold grey, no peace and no desire for sleep
coming to her. The poor child had never before been in real distress.
Oh, how she prayed! She stopped and she began again; she repeated
prayers that she had learned, and she made up petitions of her own. At
last, utterly exhausted, she went to bed.

There she tried once more to c