sighed. But she felt she must not dishearten him. And at last she
said with an effort: "It would help to pass the time, I daresay. And
perhaps you would get into the way of sleeping better." She looked out
of the window with tightly compressed lips.

"And if I do that, Merle, we can't stay on in this house. In fact a
great box of a place like this is too big for us in any case--when you
haven't even a maid to help you."

"But do you know of any smaller house we could take?"

"Yes, there's a little place for sale, with a rood or two of ground. If
we had a cow and a pig, Merle--and a few fowls--and could raise a
bushel or two of corn--and if I could earn a few shillings a week in the
smithy--we wouldn't come on the parish, at any rate. I could manage the
little jobs that I'd get--in fact, pottering about at them would do me
good. What do you say?"

Merle did not answer; her eyes were turned away, gazing fixedly out of
the window.

"But there's another question--about you, Merle. Are you willing to sink
along with me into a life like that? I shall be all right. I lived in
just such a place when I was a boy. But you! Honestly, Merle, I don't
think I should ask it of you." His voice began to tremble; he pressed
his lips together and his eyes avoided her face.

There was a pause. "How about the money?" she said, at last. "How will
you buy the place?"

"Your brother has promised to arrange about a loan. But I say again,
Merle--I shall not blame you in the least if you would rather go and
live with your aunt at Bruseth. I fancy she'd be glad to have you, and
the children too."

Again there was silence for a while. Then she said: "If there are two
decent rooms in the cottage, we could be comfortable enough. And as you
say, it would be easier to look after."

Peer waited a little. There was something in his throat that prevented
speech. He understood now that it was to be taken for granted, without
words, that they should not part company. And it took him a little time
to get over the discovery.

Merle sat facing him, but her eyes were turned to the window as before.
She had still the same beautiful dark eyebrows, but her face was faded
and worn, and there were streaks of grey in her hair.

At last he spoke again. "And about the children, Merle."

She started. "The children--what about them?" Had it come at last, the
thing she had gone in fear of so long?

"Aunt Marit has sent word to ask if we will let your brot