arnestly
into her face, but never interrupting her. In his turn he described to
her in his slow deliberate way, how his father constantly scolded him
because he was not bright, and did not care for politics and newspapers,
and how his mother wounded him with her sharp tongue by making merry
with him, even in the presence of the servants and strangers. He did not
seem to imagine that there was anything wrong in what he said, or that
he placed himself in a ludicrous light; nor did he seem to speak
from any unmanly craving for sympathy. His manner was so simple and
straightforward that what Brita probably would have found strange in
another, she found perfectly natural in him.

It was nearly midnight when they parted{.} She hardly slept at all that
night, and she was half vexed with herself for the interest she took
in this simple youth. The next morning her father came up to pay her a
visit and to see how the flocks were thriving. She understood that it
would be dangerous to say anything to him about Halvard, for she knew
his temper and feared the result, if he should ever discover her secret.
Therefore, she shunned an opportunity to talk with him, and only busied
herself the more with the cattle and the cooking. Bjarne soon noticed
her distraction, but, of course, never suspected the cause. Before he
left her, he asked her if she did not find it too lonely on the saeter,
and if it would not be well if he sent her one of the maids for a
companion. She hastened to assure him that that was quite unnecessary;
the cattle-boy who was there to help her was all the company she wanted.
Toward evening, Bjarne Blakstad loaded his horses with buckets, filled
with cheese and butter, and started for the valley. Brita stood long
looking after him as he descended the rocky slope, and she could hardly
conceal from herself that she felt relieved, when, at last, the forest
hid him from her sight. All day she had been walking about with a heavy
heart; there seemed to be something weighing on her breast, and she
could not throw it off. Who was this who had come between her and her
father? Had she ever been afraid of him before, had she been glad to
have him leave her? A sudden bitterness took possession of her, for in
her distress, she gave Halvard the blame for all that had happened.
She threw herself down on the grass and burst into a passionate fit of
weeping; she was guilty, wretchedly miserable, and all for the sake of
one whom she had