away Ditte's two hundred
crowns!" said she. "She's in her second childhood!"

She was mad on the subject, but Lars Peter let her talk on.

"Isn't it true, Ditte, that Granny would be much better with us?"
Soerine would continue. She quite expected the child to agree with
her, crazy as she was over her grandmother.

"I don't know," answered Ditte sullenly. Her mother lately had done
her best to get her over to her side, but Ditte was suspicious of
her. She would love to be with Granny again, but not in that way.
She would only be treated badly. Ditte had no faith in her mother's
care. It was more for her own wicked ends than for daughterly love,
Granny herself had said.

Soerine was beyond comprehension. One morning she would declare that
before long they would hear sad news about Granny, because she had
heard the raven screaming in the willows during the night. "I'd
better go over and see her," said she.

"Ay, that's right, you go," answered Lars Peter. "I'll drive you
over. After all, the nag and I have nothing to do."

But Soerine wouldn't hear of it. "You've your own work to do at
home," said she. However, she did not get off that day--something or
other prevented her. She had grown very restless.

The next morning she was unusually friendly to the children. "I'll
tell you something, Granny will soon be coming here--I dreamed it
last night," said she, as she helped Ditte to dress them. "She can
have the alcove, and father and I'll move into the little room. And
then you won't be cold any longer."

"But yesterday you said that Granny was going to die soon," objected
Ditte.

"Ay, but that was only nonsense. Hurry up home from school. I've
some shopping to do, and likely won't be home till late." She put
sugar on the bread Ditte took to school, and sent her off in good
time.

Ditte set out, with satchel hanging from her arm, and her hands
rolled up in the ends of her muffler. The father had driven away
early, and she followed the wheel-tracks for some distance, and
amused herself by stepping in the old nag's footprints. Then the
trail turned towards the sea.

She could not follow the lessons today, she was perplexed in mind.
Her mother's friendliness had roused her suspicions. It was so
contrary to the conviction which the child from long experience had
formed as to her mother's disposition. Perhaps she was not such a
bad mother when it came to the point. The sugar on the bread almost
melted Ditte's hear