One Sunday afternoon Halvor sat on the steps in front of his shop, watching the people coming and going.  Presently it occurred to him that an unusual number of fine rigs were moving in the direction of the Ingmar Farm.  In the first carriage sat an inspector from Bergsana Foundry, in the second was the son of the proprietor of the Karmsund Inn, and last came the Magistrate Berger Sven Persson, who was the richest man in western Dalecarlia, and a sensible and highly esteemed man, too.  He was not young, to be sure; he had been twice married, and was now a widower for the second time.

When Halvor saw Berger Sven Persson driving by, he could not contain himself any longer.  He jumped to his feet and started down the road; in almost no time he was over the bridge and on the side of the river where the Ingmar Farm lay.

“I’d like to know where all those carriages have gone to,” he said to himself.  He followed the wheel ruts, half running, but all the while becoming more and more determined.  “I know this is stupid of me,” he thought, remembering Mother Stina’s warning.  “But I’m only going as far as the gate, to see what they’re up to down there.”

In the best room at the Ingmars sat Berger Sven Persson and two other men, drinking coffee.  Ingmar Ingmarsson, who still lived at the schoolhouse, was at home over Sunday.  He sat at table with them and acted as host, for Karin had excused herself, saying she had some work to do in the kitchen, as the maids had gone down to the mission house to hear the schoolmaster preach.

It was deadly dull in the parlour.  All the men sat drinking their coffee without exchanging a word.  The suitors were practically strangers to one another, and all three of them were watching for an opportunity to slip into the kitchen for a private word with Karin.

Presently the door opened and in stepped another caller, who was received by Ingmar, and conducted to the table.

“This is Tims Halvor Halvorsson,” said Ingmar, introducing the newcomer to Berger Sven Persson.

Sven Persson did not rise, but greeted Halvor with a sweep of the hand, saying, somewhat facetiously: 

“It is a pleasure to meet so distinguished a personage.”

Ingmar noisily drew up a chair for Halvor, so that he was spared the embarrassment of replying.

From the moment Halvor entered the room, all the suitors became chatty and began to talk big.  Each in turn praised and championed the others.  It was as if they had all agreed among themselves to stand together until Halvor was well out of the game.

“The magistrate is driving a fine horse to-day,” the inspector began.

Berger Sven Persson took up the fun by complimenting the inspector on having shot a bear the winter before.  Then the two turned to the innkeeper’s son, and said something in praise of a house his father was building.

Finally all three of them bragged about the wealth of Bergen Sven Persson.  They waxed eloquent, and with every word they gave Halvor to understand that he was too lowly a man to think of pitting himself against them.  And Halvor certainly did feel very insignificant, and bitterly regretted having come.