one need rise from the table."

The old woman walked heavily across the room. Those who turned to
look after her noticed that she had on her best dress, with her
silk shawl across her shoulders, and her silk kerchief on her head,
as if to emphasize her authority. When the horse stopped she was
already at the door.

Ingmar jumped down at once, but Brita kept her seat. He went over
to her side and unfastened the carriage apron.

"Aren't you going to get out?" he said.

"No," she replied, then covering her face with her hands, she burst
into tears.

"I ought never to have come back," she sobbed.

"Oh, do get down!" he urged.

"Let me go back to the city; I'm not good enough for you."

Ingmar thought that maybe she was right about it, but said nothing.
He stood with his hand on the apron, and waited.

"What does she say?" asked Mother Martha from the doorway.

"She says she isn't good enough for us," Ingmar replied, for
Brita's words could scarcely be heard for her sobs.

"What is she crying about?" asked the old woman.

"Because I am such a miserable sinner," said Brita, pressing her
hands to her heart which she thought would break.

"What's that?" the old woman asked once more.

"She says she is such a miserable sinner," Ingmar repeated.

When Brita heard him repeat her words in a cold and indifferent
tone, the truth suddenly flashed upon her. No, he could never have
stood there and repeated those words to his mother had he been fond
of her, or had there been a spark of love in his heart for her.

"Why doesn't she get down?" the old woman then asked.

Suppressing her sobs, Brita spoke up: "Because I don't want to
bring misfortune upon Ingmar."

"I think she is quite right," said the old mistress. "Let her go,
little Ingmar! You may as well know that otherwise I'll be the one
to leave: for I'll not sleep one night under the same roof with the
likes of her."

"For God's sake let me go!" Brita moaned.

Ingmar ripped out an oath, turned the horse, and sprang into the
cart. He was sick and tired of all this and could not stand any
more of it.

Out on the highway they kept meeting church people. This annoyed
Ingmar. Suddenly he turned the horse and drove in on a narrow
forest road.

As he turned some one called to him. He glanced back. It was the
postman with a letter for him. He took the letter, thrust it into
his pocket, and drove on.

As soon as he felt sure that he could not be seen from the r