“That’s only the journey,” she said, “and living in town air all that time.”

And indeed, she very soon grew plump and well-looking again.  “Take my word for it,” said Barbro, “it pulls you down a bit, a journey like that, and living in town like that.”  She hinted also at the temptations of life in Bergen—­one had to be careful there.  But while they sat talking, she begged him to take in a paper—­a Bergen newspaper—­so that she could read a bit and see the news of the world.  She had got accustomed to reading, and theatres and music, and it was so dull in a place like this.

Axel was pleased with the results of his summer help, and took in a paper.  He also bore with the frequent visits of the Brede family, who were constantly dropping in at his place and eating and drinking.  He was anxious to show that he appreciated this servant-girl of his.  And what could be nicer and homelier than when Barbro sat there of a Sunday evening twanging the strings of a guitar and singing a little with her hoarse voice?  Axel, was touched by it all, by the pretty, strange songs, by the mere fact that some one really sat there singing on his poor half-baked farm.

True, in the course of the summer he learned to know other sides of Barbro’s character, but on the whole, he was content.  She had her fancies, and could answer hastily at times; was somewhat over-quick to answer back.  That Saturday evening, for instance, when Axel himself had to go down to the village to get some things, it was wrong of Barbro to run away from the hut and the animals and leave the place to itself.  They had a few words over that.  And where had she been?  Only to her home, to Breidablik, but still ...  When Axel came back to the hut that night, Barbro was not there; he looked to the animals, got himself something to eat, and turned in.  Towards morning Barbro came.  “I only wanted to see what it was like to step on a wooden floor again,” she said, somewhat scornfully.  And Axel could find nothing much to say to that, seeing that he had as yet but a turf hut with a floor of beaten earth.  He did say, however, that if it came to that, he could get a few planks himself, and no doubt but he’d have a house with a wooden floor himself in time!  Barbro seemed penitent at that; she was not altogether unkindly.  And for all it was Sunday, she went off at once to the woods and gathered fresh juniper twigs to spread on the earthen floor.

And then, seeing she was so fine-hearted and behaved so splendidly, what could Axel do but bring out the kerchief he had bought for her the evening before, though he had really thought of keeping it by a while, and getting something respectable out of her in return.  And there! she was pleased with it, and tried it on at once—­ay, she turned to him and asked if she didn’t look nice in it.  And yes, indeed she did; and she might put on his old fur cap if she liked, and she’d look nice in that!  Barbro laughed at this and tried to say something really nice in return; she said:  “I’d far rather go to church and communion in this kerchief than wear a hat.  In Bergen, of course, we always wore hats—­all except common servant-girls from the country.”