kled slowly from her eyes to freeze on her cheek.

"What you've done with rings I gave you?" asks he.

"Rings?"

"Ay, the rings."

"I haven't got them now."

"Ho, so you haven't got them now?"

"'Twas all over between us," said she. "And I couldn't wear them after
that. 'Tis not the way to go on wearing rings when it's all over
between you."

"Well, I'd just like to know what you've done with them, that's all."

"Wanted me to give them back, maybe," said she. "Well, I never thought
you'd have had me put you to that shame."

Axel thought for a moment, and said: "I could have made it up to you
other ways. That you shouldn't lose by it, I mean."

But no, Barbro had got rid of the rings, and never so much as gave
him the chance of buying back a gold ring and a silver ring at a
reasonable price.

For all that, Barbro was not so thoroughly harsh and unlovable,
that she was not. She had a long apron thing that fastened over the
shoulders and with tucks at the edge, and a strip of white stuff up
round her neck--ay, she looked well. There were some said she'd found
a lad already down in the village to go sweethearting with, though
maybe 'twas but their talk, after all. Fru Heyerdahl kept a watchful
eye on her at any rate, and took care not to let her go to the
Christmas dances.

Ay, Fru Heyerdahl was careful enough, that she was; here was Axel
standing talking to his former servant-girl about a matter of two
rings, and suddenly Fru Heyerdahl comes right between them and says:
"Barbro, I thought you were going to the store?" Off goes Barbro. And
her mistress turns to Axel and says: "Have you come down with some
meat, or something?"

"H'm," said Axel, just that, and touched his cap.

Now it was Fru Heyerdahl that had praised him up so that last autumn,
saying he was a splendid fellow and she had always thought well of
him; and one good turn was worth another, no doubt. Axel knew the way
of doing things; 'twas an old story, when simple folk had dealing with
their betters, with authority. And he had thought at once of a piece
of butcher's meat, a bull he had, that might be useful there. But time
went on, and month and month passed by and autumn was gone, and the
bull was never killed. And what harm could it do, after all, if he
kept it for himself?--give it away, and he would be so much poorer.
And 'twas a fine beast, anyway.

"H'm, _Goddag_. Nay," said Axel, shaking his head; he'd no meat with
him today.

But