ere was little they needed to buy
now at Sellanraa.

Now and again, too, Brede Olsen would come trudging along, more
frequently of late--whatever he might be after. It looked as if he
were trying to make himself indispensable to the telegraph people in
the little time that remained, so as to keep his job. He never came in
to see Axel now that Barbro was gone, but went straight by--a piece of
high-and-mightiness ill fitted to his state, seeing that he was still
living on at Breidablik and had not moved. One day, when he was
passing without so much as a word of greeting, Axel stopped him, and
asked when he had thought of getting out of the place.

"What about Barbro, and the way she left you?" asked Brede in return.
And one word led to another: "You sent her off with neither help nor
means, 'twas a near thing but she never got to Bergen at all."

"Ho! So she's in Bergen, is she?"

"Ay, got there at last, so she writes, but little thanks to you."

"I'll have you out of Breidablik, and that sharp," said Axel.

"Ay, if you'd be so kind," said the other, with a sneer. "But we'll be
going of ourselves at the new year," he said, and went on his way.

So Barbro was gone to Bergen--ay, 'twas as Axel had thought. He did
not take it to heart. Take it to heart? No, indeed; he was well rid of
her. But for all that, he had hoped a little until then that she might
come back. 'Twas all unreasonable, but somehow he had come to care
overmuch for the girl--ay, for that devil of a girl. She had her sweet
moments, unforgettable moments, and it was on purpose to hinder her
from running off to Bergen that he had given her so little money
for the journey. And now she had gone there after all. A few of her
clothes still hung in the house, and there was a straw hat with birds'
wings on, wrapped up in a paper, in the loft, but she did not come to
fetch them. Eyah, maybe he took it to heart a little, only a little.
And as if to jeer at him, as a mighty jest in his trouble, came the
paper he had ordered for her every week, and it would not stop now
till the new year.

Well, well, there were other things to think about. He must be a man.

Next spring he would have to put up a shed against the north wall of
the house; the timber would have to be felled that winter, and the
planks cut. Axel had no timber to speak of, not growing close, but
there were some heavy firs scattered about here and there on the
outskirts of his land, and he marked ou