at little there was, on condition that they
provided the funeral. On this occasion, Soerine did not spare money,
she wanted the funeral to be talked about. Old Maren was put into
the ground with more grandeur than she had lived.
Ditte was at the funeral--naturally, as she was the only one who had
ever cared for the dead woman. But in the churchyard she so lost
control over herself, that Lars Peter had to take her aside, to
prevent her disturbing the parson. She had such strong feelings,
every one thought.
But in this respect Ditte changed entirely. After Granny's death,
she seemed to quieten. She went about doing her work, was not
particularly lively, but not depressed either. Lars Peter observed
that she and her mother quarreled no longer. This was a pleasant
step in the right direction!
Ditte resigned herself to her lot. It cost her an effort to remain
under the same roof as her mother; she would rather have left home.
But this would have reflected on her stepfather, and her sense of
justice rebelled against this. Then too the thought of her little
brothers and sisters kept her back; what would become of them if she
left?
She remained--and took up a definite position towards her mother.
Soerine was kind and considerate to her, so much so that it was
almost painful, but Ditte pretended not to notice it. All advances
from her mother glanced off her. She was stubborn and determined,
carrying through what she set her mind on--the mother was nothing to
her.
Soerine's eyes constantly followed her when unobserved--she was
afraid of her. Had the child been in the hut when it happened, or
had she only arrived later? Soerine was not sure whether she herself
had overturned the chair that evening in the darkness? How much did
Ditte know? That she knew something her mother could tell from her
face. She would have given much to find out, and often touched upon
the question--with her uncertain glance at the girl.
"'Tis terrible to think that Granny should die alone," she would
say, hoping the child would give herself away. But Ditte was
obstinately silent.
One day Soerine gave Lars Peter a great surprise, by putting a large
sum of money on the table in front of him. "Will that build the
house, d'you think?" asked she.
Lars Peter looked at her; he was astounded.
"I've saved it by selling eggs and butter and wool," said she; "and
by starving you," she added with an uncertain smile. "I know that
I've been stingy
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