She and Anne Graves then began to review the young people more closely.  There were some they would not even mention, and some they named with all sorts of interesting doubts and opinions, and lastly some they only stopped to wonder that they had nothing whatever to say either about or against.

As to Barbara, she noticed carefully what was said about Silla, and made up her mind that Nikolai should be warned; he should at any rate know what he was doing when he went and took that girl.

And neither was it with a diminishing-glass she let him see it, as time after time she referred to all the dangers the young factory-girls up there were exposed to.  She had sufficient instinct not to mention Silla, so that he should not think she was speaking against her.  But every time she touched upon it, she saw well, that it went into Nikolai, and had fully the effect she wished.

Barbara had made some of these remarks this evening too, and Nikolai was sitting gloomily listening to the noise outside.

One party after another was flying past down the high-road on sledges, like shadows in the moonlight, with shouts and cries—­half-grown lads and lassies, and now and then a party of fine people from the town below.  One tall lad, with the rope over his shoulder and his heels digging into the hillside, was dragging a wood-sledge up, with a heavy load of girls upon it.

Nikolai could not help keeping watch through the kitchen window, and left his mother, who sat inside by the paraffins lamp, without any answer.

They were Kristofa and Kalla, those two who were standing there in the street talking, while they slid backwards and forwards the whole time on a little bit of ice.  They were waiting for somebody—­Silla perhaps; they were standing close by her street.  It was a question which of them would dare to venture in and be so bold as to ask Mrs. Holman with many “dear, kind, goods” if she would allow Silla to go over to her for a little while this evening—­always untruthfulness and disorder!

There was another sledge party with fine hats and glowing cigars standing laughing just outside.

Barbara stopped her knitting-pins to listen.

“We have this noise every evening till quite late,” she remarked, “as long as the moon shines on the road.”

He turned hot all over.  If Silla were to get into this, then he might as well lay both himself and his hammer down.

Yes, there she was looking about at the corner for her two friends.

“Good evening, old lady,” said he, suddenly coming out of the door.

“Is that you, Nikolai?” exclaimed Silla, in surprise.  “Have you seen anything of Kristofa and Kalla?  I did so want to speak to them!  Haven’t you?  Do you know how I got out?  I was only going to get the cat in for the night.  I chased it out myself, and hid it so nicely under the wooden tub out in the shed.  If only it doesn’t mew.”