“Why, you act just like a wild-cat,” cried her aunt.  “I never saw such a girl.  But now be sensible, come and sit down beside me.  Will you come or not?  I’ll never say another kind word to you as long as I live if you won’t sit down here a minute and keep still.  Uli, order another bottle.  Keep still now, girl, and don’t interrupt me,” continued her aunt, and she went on to tell how she should feel if they both went away; what evil days awaited her; shed painful tears over her own children, and said that she could still be made happy if it might turn out as she had thought it through in her sleepless nights.  If two people could be happy together, they were the ones.  She had often told Joggeli that she had never seen two people that understood each other so well in their work and were so helpful to each other.  If they kept on in the same way they must become very prosperous.  They would do whatever they could to help them, she and Joggeli.  They weren’t like some proprietors, who weren’t happy unless a tenant was ruined on their place every other year, and who spent sleepless nights planning to raise the rent when the tenant was able to pay the whole amount on time, because they were afraid he had got it too cheap.  Truly, they’d do by her as by their own children, and Freneli would have a dowry that no farmer’s daughter need be ashamed of.  But if that didn’t suit her and Freneli carried on so, then she didn’t know what to do; she’d rather never go home again.  She wouldn’t reproach her; but she surely hadn’t deserved to have Freneli act so now; she had always done by her as she thought right.  And now Freneli was behaving in this way just to grieve her—­that she could see; she hadn’t been the same to her for a long time.  And the good woman wept right heartily.

“But, Auntie,” said Freneli, “how can you talk so?  You’ve been a mother to me; I’ve always looked on you as such, and if I had to go through fire for you I wouldn’t hesitate a minute.  But I won’t be forced upon such a puppy who doesn’t want me.  If I have to have a husband I want one who loves me and takes me for my own sake, not one that takes me along with the other cows as part of the lease.”

“How can you talk so?” asked her aunt.  “Didn’t you hear him say he’s loved you this long time?”

“Yes,” said Freneli, “that’s what they all say, one with another; but if they all choked on that lie there wouldn’t be many weddings.  He’s no better than the rest, I guess; if you hadn’t talked about the farm first, then you could have seen how much he’d have been in love with me.  And it’s not right of you to tell me nothing about all this, or to fling me plumb at his head like a pine-cone thrown to a sow.  If you’d confided in me first I could have told you what’s trumps with Uli.  What he says is:  ‘Gold, I love you;’ and then he expects us to hear:  ’Girl, I love you.’”

“You’re a queer Jenny,” said her aunt, “and you act as if you was the daughter of a lord.”