When he took his leave, he asked Barbro to go part of the way home with him.  But Barbro, thank you, was not inclined that way.

“Is that the way they do things where you’ve been,” she asked—­“for the ladies to escort the gentlemen home?”

That was a nasty hit for Eleseus; he turned red, and understood he had offended her.

Nevertheless, he went down to Maaneland again next Sunday, and this time he took his stick.  They talked as before, and Axel was out of it altogether, as before. “’Tis a big place your father’s got,” said he.  “And building again, now, it seems.”

“Ay, it’s all very well for him,” said Eleseus, anxious to show off a little.  “He can afford it.  It’s another matter with poor folk like ourselves.”

“How d’you mean?”

“Oh, haven’t you heard?  There’s been some Swedish millionaires came down the other day and bought a mine of him, a copper mine.”

“Why, you don’t say?  And he’ll have got a heap of money for it, then?”

“Enormous.  Well, I don’t want to boast, but it was at any rate ever so many thousands.  What was I going to say?  Build?  You’ve a deal of timber lying about here yourself.  When are you going to start?”

Barbro put in her word here:  “Never!”

Now that was pure exaggeration and impertinence.  Axel had got his stones the autumn before, and carted them home that winter; now, between seasons, he had got the foundation walls done, and cellar and all else—­all that remained was to build the timbered part above.  He was hoping to get part of it roofed in this autumn, and had thought of asking Sivert to lend him a hand for a few days—­what did Eleseus think of that?

Eleseus thought like as not.  “But why not ask me?” he said, smiling.

“You?” said Axel, and he spoke with sudden respect at the idea.  “You’ve talents for other things than that, I take it.”

Oh, but it was pleasant to find oneself appreciated here in the wilds!  “Why, I’m afraid my hands aren’t much good at that sort of work,” said Eleseus delicately.

“Let me look,” said Barbro, and took his hand.

Axel dropped out of the conversation again, and went out, leaving the two of them alone.  They were of an age, had been to school together, and played and kissed each other and raced about; and now, with a fine disdainful carelessness, they talked of old times—­exchanging reminiscences—­and Barbro, perhaps, was inclined to show off a little before her companion.  True, this Eleseus was not like the really fine young men in offices, that wore glasses and gold watches and so on, but he could pass for a gentleman here in the wilds, there was no denying that.  And she took out her photograph now and showed him—­that’s what she looked like then—­“all different now, of course.”  And Barbro sighed.

“Why, what’s the matter with you now?” he asked.

“Don’t you think I’ve changed for the worse since then?”