t fly up in the air at
any moment. At last Sunday came. 'Lizebeth, after dinner, rushed about
the kitchen with such a great noise, one could notice that many thoughts
were working in her which she tried to give vent to. But she went into
her room only after everything was bright and in its place.

She dressed herself in her Sunday-best and entered the sitting-room to
take leave, just as though she was going on a long journey, for it was
an event for 'Lizebeth to leave the parsonage for several hours. Now she
wandered with slow steps along the road and looked to the right and left
on the way to see what was growing in the field belonging to this or
that neighbor. But her thoughts began again to work in her; one could
see that, for she began to walk quicker and quicker and to talk half
aloud to herself. Now she had arrived. Marianne had seen her from her
little window and was surprised that this time 'Lizebeth was so soon
keeping her promise. For years she had promised, had sent the messages
that she would soon come; but she had never come and now she was there
after the message had been brought only three days ago. Marianne went to
meet her friend with a pleasant smile and welcomed her near the hedge
before the cottage; then she conducted her guest around the cottage and
up the narrow, wooden stairs. 'Lizebeth did not like this way and before
she had reached the top of the stairs she had to speak out.

"Listen, Marianne," she said, "formerly one dared to come in the front
door and through the kitchen, but now your oldest friends have to come
by the back way, which, no doubt, is on account of the strange people
whom you have taken into your house. I have heard much of them and now I
see for myself that they, from pure pride, do not know what to order
next, that you dare not go through your own house."

"Dear me, 'Lizebeth, what queer thoughts you do have," said Marianne,
quite frightened. "That is not true, no one has forbidden me anything.
And the people are so good and not a bit proud, and so friendly, and so
kind and humble."

"Catch your breath, Marianne," 'Lizebeth interrupted her; "with all your
excitement you cannot prove that white is black, and when such people
come along, no one knows whence, and take a living-room and a bedroom in
such a hut, so hidden as yours is, Marianne, where they pay next to
nothing, and the woman struts about in a silk skirt and her little son
in velvet; then there is something behind