at I
have thought of you many times. I dreamed of you in English. This may
not mean much to you, but I nearly always dream in Norwegian, and
persons who speak English to me when I am awake, speak Norwegian in my
dreams. But you did not. I thought I saw you standing in a ditch and the
rain was falling, and it was night. I ran to you, and you spoke the name
they used to call you in the West. It was the ditch you helped me over.
I had been thinking about it in the day, and was sorry because the
sunflowers must be all dead. I had to send some money to my uncle. He
lost his place on the street-car, but they have taken him back. He has
five children and cannot afford to be idle. Oh, that was a beautiful
summer out there. Do you remember the night at the house where they said
the spirits are? I can see you now, kneeling on the floor. I will be
bold and say that I wanted to kneel beside you. Will there ever come
another summer like that? It was my first rest. But I cannot hope for
another soon. Mrs. Goodwin will not want me to come out with her next
year. She will have with her the musical genius then. But we shall see
each other. I feel that you spoke the truth when you said that
all--something could not keep us apart. I board at the house of a man
who had this season a large potato field. I went out when the digging
time was at hand, and behind the plow I saw a woman from Norway and I
wanted to help her, but it would not do for these people to know that I
have ever worked in a field. The teacher of the public school spoke of
me as the graceful young woman, and I thought that it might please you
to know that he had said it."

"Please me?" said Milford, talking aloud to himself. "Blast his
impudence, what right----"

"Anything wrong, Bill?" Mitchell inquired.

"Oh, no, everything's all right."

"Letter from her, ain't it?"

"Yes. She's in Michigan."

"I used to go with a woman from Michigan," said the hired man. "And I
thought I'd like to marry her, but I found out she'd been married twice,
and I didn't feel like bein' no third choice."

"I didn't suppose you'd object to that," Milford replied, folding his
letter.

"Well, I may be more particular than most fellers, but it sorter stuck
in my crop. I guess it's a good plan to let all the women alone. For
awhile at least," he added. "The best of 'em don't bring a man nothin'
but trouble. What does your girl say in her letter?"

"Oh, nothing much. She's teaching."

"I