ine some trifle or other meant so many
minutes' rest from throwing heavy clods.

And Oline, poor creature, she might well be needing a pinch of coffee
now and again, whether by chance she managed to get the money from
Axel to pay for it, or bartered a goats' milk cheese in exchange.
Oline was not altogether what she had been; the work at Maaneland was
too hard for her; she was an old woman now, and it was leaving its
mark. Not that she ever confessed to any weakness or ageing herself;
ho! she would have found plenty to say if she had been dismissed.
Tough and irrepressible was Oline; did her work, and found time to
wander over to neighbours here or there for a real good gossip. 'Twas
her plain right, and there was little gossiping at Maaneland. Axel
himself was not given that way.

As for that Barbro case, Oline was displeased, ay, disappointed was
Oline. Both of them acquitted! That Brede's girl Barbro should be let
off when Inger Sellanraa had got eight years was not to Oline's taste
at all; she felt an unchristian annoyance at such favouritism. But the
Almighty would look to things, no doubt, in His own good time! And
Oline nodded, as if prophesying divine retribution at a later date.
Naturally, also, Oline made no secret of her dissatisfaction with the
finding of the court, more especially when she happened to fall out
with her master, Axel, over any little trifle. Then she would deliver
herself, in the old soft-spoken way, of much deep and bitter sarcasm.
"Ay, 'tis strange how the law's changed these days, for all the
wickedness of Sodom and Gomorrah; but the word of the Lord's my guide,
as ever was, and a blessed refuge for the meek."

Oh, Axel was sick and tired of his housekeeper now, and wished her
anywhere. And now with spring coming again, and all the season's work
to do alone; haymaking to come, and what was he to do? 'Twas a poor
look-out. His brother's wife, at Breidablik had written home to
Helgeland trying to find a decent woman to help him, but nothing had
come of it as yet. And in any case, it would mean his having to pay
for the journey.

Nay, 'twas a mean and wicked trick of Barbro to make away with the bit
of a child and then run off herself. A summer and two winters now he
had been forced to make do with Oline, and no saying how much longer
it might be yet. And Barbro, the creature, did she care? He had had a
few words with her down in the village one day that winter, but never
a tear had tric