Kristin Lavransdatter Part 4

But when she had finished telling the story, Fru Aashild sat in silence for a moment and gazed out across the valley.

Finally she said, "It was wise of you to flee, since you were only a child back then. But haven't you ever heard of people who took the gold the dwarf offered them, and then trapped the troll in a rock afterward?"

"I've heard of such stories," said Kristin, "but I would never dare do that myself. And I don't think it's the right thing to do."

"It's good when you don't dare do something that doesn't seem right," said Fru Aashild with a little laugh. "But it's not so good if you think something isn't right because you don't dare do it." Then she added abruptly, "You've grown up a great deal this summer. I wonder if you realize how lovely you've become."

"Yes, I know," said Kristin. "They say I look like my father."

Fru Aashild laughed softly.

"Yes, it would be best if you took after Lavrans, both in temperament and appearance. And yet it would be a shame if they married you to someone up here in the valley. Farming customs and the ways of smallholders should not be disdained, but these gentry up here all think they're so grand that their equals are not to be found in all of Norway. I'm sure they wonder how I can manage to live and prosper even though they've closed their doors to me. But they're lazy and arrogant and refuse to learn new ways-and then they blame everything on the old enmity with the monarchy in the time of King Sverre.1 It's all a lie-your ancestor reconciled with King Sverre and accepted gifts from him. But if your mother's brother wanted to serve the king and join his retinue, then he would have to cleanse himself, both inside and out, which is not something Trond is willing to do. But you, Kristin, you ought to marry a man who is both chivalrous and courtly. . . ." It's all a lie-your ancestor reconciled with King Sverre and accepted gifts from him. But if your mother's brother wanted to serve the king and join his retinue, then he would have to cleanse himself, both inside and out, which is not something Trond is willing to do. But you, Kristin, you ought to marry a man who is both chivalrous and courtly. . . ."

Kristin sat staring down at the Formo courtyard, at Arne's red back. She hadn't been aware of it herself, but whenever Fru Aashild talked about the world she had frequented in the past, Kristin always pictured the knights and counts in Arne's image. Before, when she was a child, she had always envisioned them in her father's image.

"My nephew, Erlend Nikulaussn of Husaby-now he would have been a suitable bridegroom for you. He has grown up to be so handsome, that boy. My sister Magnhild came to visit me last year when she was on her way through the valley, and she brought her son along with her. Well, you won't be able to marry him, of course, but I would have gladly spread the blanket over the two of you in the wedding bed. His hair is as dark as yours is fair, and he has beautiful eyes. But if I know my brother-in-law, he has already set his sights on a better match for Erlend than you would be."

"Does that mean I'm not a good match, then?" asked Kristin with surprise. She was never offended by anything Fru Aashild said, but she felt embarra.s.sed and chagrined that Fru Aashild might be somehow better than her own family.

"Yes, of course you're a good match," said Fru Aashild. "And yet you couldn't expect to become part of my lineage. Your ancestor here in Norway was an outlaw and a foreigner, and the Gjeslings have sat moldering away on their estates for such a long time that almost no one remembers them outside of this valley. But my sister and I married the nephews of Queen Margret Skulesdatter."

Kristin didn't even think to object that it was not her ancestor but his brother who had come to Norway as an outlaw. She sat and gazed out over the dark mountain slopes across the valley, and she remembered that day, many years ago, when she went up onto the ridge and saw how many mountains there were between her own village and the rest of the world. Then Fru Aashild said they ought to head home, and she asked Kristin to call for Arne. Kristin put her hands up to her mouth and shouted and then waved her kerchief until she saw the red speck down in the courtyard turn and wave back.

Some time later Fru Aashild returned home, but during the fall and the first part of winter she often came to Jrundgaard to spend a few days with Ulvhild. The child was now taken out of bed in the daytime, and they tried to get her to stand on her own, but her legs crumpled beneath her whenever she tried it. She was fretful, pale, and tired, and the laced garment that Fru Aashild had made for her from horsehide and slender willow branches plagued her terribly; all she wanted to do was lie in her mother's lap. Ragnfrid was constantly holding her injured daughter, so Tordis was now in charge of all the housekeeping. At her mother's request, Kristin accompanied Tordis, to help and to learn.

Kristin sometimes longed for Fru Aashild, who occasionally would talk to her a great deal, but at other times Kristin would wait in vain for a word beyond the casual greeting as Fru Aashild came and went.

Instead, Fru Aashild would sit with the grown-ups and talk. That was always what happened when she brought her husband along with her, for now Bjrn Gunnarsn also came to Jrund gaard. One day in the fall, Lavrans had ridden over to Haugen to take Fru Aashild payment for her doctoring: the best silver pitcher and matching platter they owned. He had stayed the night and afterward had high praise for their farm. He said it was beautiful and well tended, and not as small as people claimed. Inside the buildings everything looked prosperous, and the customs of the house were as courtly as those of the gentry in the south of the country. What Lavrans thought of Bjrn he didn't say, but he always received the man courteously when Bjrn accompanied his wife to Jrundgaard. On the other hand, Lavrans was exceedingly fond of Fru Aashild, and he believed that most of what people said about her was a lie. He also said that twenty years earlier she would hardly have required witchcraft to bind a man to her-she was sixty now but still looked young, and she had a most appealing and charming manner.

Kristin noticed that her mother was not happy about all this. It's true that Ragnfrid never said much about Fru Aashild, but one time she compared Bjrn to the flattened yellow gra.s.s that can be found under large rocks, and Kristin thought this an apt description. Bjrn had an oddly faded appearance-he was quite fat, pale, and sluggish, and slightly bald-even though he was not much older than Lavrans. And yet it was still apparent that he had once been an extremely handsome man. Kristin never exchanged a single word with him. He said little, preferring to stay in one spot, wherever he happened to be seated, from the moment he stepped in the door until it was time for bed. He drank an enormous amount but it seemed to have little effect on him. He ate almost nothing, and occasionally he would stare at someone in the room, stony-faced and pensive, with his strange, pale eyes.

They had not seen their kinsmen from Sundbu since the accident occurred, but Lavrans had been over to Vaage several times. Sira Eirik, on the other hand, came to Jrundgaard as often as before, and there he frequently met Fru Aashild. They had become good friends. People thought this a generous att.i.tude on the part of the priest, since he himself was a very capable doctor. This was also probably one of the reasons why people on the large estates had not sought Fru Aashild's advice, at least not openly, because they considered the priest to be competent enough. It was not easy for them to know how to act toward two people who in some ways had been cast out of their own circles. Sira Eirik himself said that they caused no one any harm, and as for Fru Aashild's witchcraft, he was not her parish priest. It could be that the woman knew more than was good for the health of her soul-and yet one should not forget that ignorant people often spoke of witchcraft as soon as a woman showed herself to be wiser than the councilmen. For her part, Fru Aashild spoke highly of the priest and diligently went to church if she happened to be at Jrundgaard on a holy day.

Christmas was a sad time that year. Ulvhild was still unable to stand on her own. And they neither saw nor heard from their kinsmen at Sundbu. Kristin noticed that people in the village were talking about the rift and that her father took it to heart. But her mother didn't care, and Kristin thought this was callous of her.

One evening toward the end of the holidays, Sira Sigurd, Trond Gjesling's house priest, arrived in a big sleigh, and his primary mission was to invite them all to visit Sundbu.

Sira Sigurd was not well liked in the surrounding villages, for he was the one who actually managed Trond's properties for him-or at least he was the one who was blamed whenever Trond acted harshly or unjustly, and Trond tended to plague his tenants somewhat. The priest was exceedingly clever at writing and figuring; he knew the law and was a skilled doctor, although not as skilled as he thought. But judging by his behavior, no one would think him a clever man; he often said foolish things. Ragnfrid and Lavrans had never liked him, but the Sundbu people, as was reasonable, set great store by their priest, and both they and he were greatly disappointed that he had not been called on to tend to Ulvhild.

On the day that Sira Sigurd came to Jrundgaard-unfortunately for him-Fru Aashild and Herr Bjrn were already there, as were Sira Eirik, Arne's parents Gyrd and Inga of Finsbrekken, Old Jon from Loptsgaard, and a friar from Hamar, Brother Aasgaut.

While Ragnfrid had the tables set once more with food for the guests and Lavrans pored over the boxes of sealed letters that the priest had brought, Sira Sigurd asked to see Ulvhild. She had already been put to bed for the night and was sleeping, but Sira Sigurd woke her up, examined her back and limbs, and asked her questions-at first kindly enough, but with increasing impatience as Ulvhild grew frightened. Sigurd was a small man, practically a dwarf, but he had a big, flame-red face. When he tried to lift her onto the floor to test her legs, Ulvhild began to scream. Then Fru Aashild stood up, went over to the bed, and covered her with the blanket, saying that the child was sleepy-she wouldn't have been able to stand up even if her legs were healthy.

The priest began to protest vehemently; he was also considered a capable doctor. But Fru Aashild took his hand, led him over to the high seat2 at the table, and started talking about what she had done for Ulvhild as she asked his opinion on everything. Then he grew more amenable, and he ate and drank of Ragnfrid's good repast. at the table, and started talking about what she had done for Ulvhild as she asked his opinion on everything. Then he grew more amenable, and he ate and drank of Ragnfrid's good repast.

But when the ale and wine began to go to his head, Sira Sigurd was once again in a foul mood, quarrelsome and bad tempered. He was quite aware that no one in the room liked him. First he turned to Gyrd, who was the envoy of the Bishop of Hamar at Vaage and Sil. There had been numerous disputes between the bishopric and Trond Ivarsn. Gyrd didn't say much, but Inga was a hot-tempered woman, and then Brother Aasgaut joined in the discussion.

He said, "You shouldn't forget, Sira Sigurd, that our worthy Father Ingjald is your prelate too; we know all about you in Hamar. You revel in all that is good at Sundbu, and give little thought to the fact that you are dedicated to other work than acting as Trond's eye-servant, helping him do everything that is unjust so that he endangers his own soul and diminishes the power of the Church. Haven't you ever heard about what happens to those disobedient and unfaithful priests who contravene their own spiritual fathers and superiors? Don't you know about the time when the angels led Saint Thomas of Canterbury to the gates of h.e.l.l and let him peek inside? He was greatly surprised not to see any of those who had opposed him as you oppose your bishop. He was just about to praise G.o.d's mercy, for the holy man wished all sinners to be saved, when the angel asked the Devil to lift his tail. With a tremendous roar and a horrid stench of sulfur, out spewed all the priests and learned men who had betrayed the interests of the Church. And then he saw where all of them had ended up."

"You're lying, monk," said the priest. "I've heard that story too, but it was friars, not priests, who were spewed out of the Devil's behind like wasps from a wasp's nest."

Old Jon laughed louder than all the servants and cried, "No doubt it was both, I'll bet it was. . . ."

"Then the Devil must have a very wide tail," said Bjrn Gunnarsn.

And Fru Aashild smiled and said, "Yes, haven't you heard it said that everything bad has a long rump dragging behind?"

"You be quiet, Fru Aashild," shouted Sira Sigurd. "You shouldn't talk about the long rump that bad people drag behind them. Here you sit as if you were the mistress of the house instead of Ragnfrid. But it's odd that you haven't been able to cure her child-don't you have any more of that powerful water you used to use? The water that could make a dismembered sheep whole again in the soup pot and turn a woman into a maiden in the bridal bed? I know all about that wedding here in the village when you prepared the bath for the despoiled bride. . . ."

Sira Eirik jumped up, grabbed the other priest by the shoulder and flank, and threw him right across the table so that pitchers and cups toppled and food and drink spilled onto the table-cloths and floor. Sira Sigurd landed flat on his back, his clothing torn.

Eirik leaped over the table and was about to strike him again, bellowing over the din, "Shut your filthy trap, you d.a.m.ned priest!"

Lavrans tried to separate them, but Ragnfrid stood at the table, as white as a corpse, wringing her hands. Then Fru Aashild ran over and helped Sira Sigurd to his feet and wiped the blood from his face.

She handed him a goblet of mead as she said, "You shouldn't be so stern, Sira Eirik, that you can't stand to hear a joke late in the evening after so many drinks. Now sit down, and I'll tell you about that wedding. It wasn't here in this valley at all, and it's my misfortune that I was not the one who knew about that water. If I had been able to brew it, we wouldn't be sitting up there on that little farm. Then I'd be a rich woman with property out in the big villages somewhere-near the town and cloisters and bishops and canons," she said, smiling at the three clergymen.

"But someone must have known the art in the old days, because this was in the time of King Inge, as far as I know, and the bridegroom was Peter Lodinsn of Bratteland. But I won't say which of his three wives was the bride, since there are living descendants from all three. Well, this bride probably had good reason to wish for that water, and she managed to get it too. She prepared a bath for herself out in the shed, but before she managed to bathe, in came the woman who was to be her mother-in-law. She was muddy and dirty from the ride to the wedding manor, so she took off her clothes and stepped into the tub. She was an old woman, and she had had nine children by Lodin. But on that night both Lodin and Peter had a different kind of pleasure than they had counted on."

Everyone in the room laughed heartily, and both Gyrd and Jon called to Fru Aashild to tell more such ribald tales.

But she refused. "Here sit two priests and Brother Aasgaut and young boys and maidservants. We should stop now before the talk grows indecent and vulgar; remember that these are the holy days."

The men protested, but the women agreed with Fru Aashild. No one noticed that Ragnfrid had left the room. A little later Kristin, who had been sitting at the far end of the women's bench among the maidservants, stood up to go to bed. She was sleeping in Tordis's house because there were so many guests at the farm.

It was biting cold, and the northern lights were flaring and flickering above the domed mountains to the north. The snow creaked under Kristin's feet as she ran across the courtyard, shivering, with her arms crossed over her breast.

Then she noticed that in the shadows beneath the old loft someone was pacing vigorously back and forth in the snow, throwing out her arms, wringing her hands, and moaning loudly. Kristin recognized her mother. Frightened, she ran over to her and asked her if she was ill.

"No, no," said Ragnfrid fiercely. "I just had to get out. Go to bed now, child."

Kristin turned around when her mother softly called her name.

"Go into the house and lie down in bed with your father and Ulvhild-hold her in your arms so that he doesn't crush her by mistake. He sleeps so heavily when he's drunk. I'll go up and sleep here in the old loft tonight."

"Jesus, Mother," said Kristin. "You'll freeze to death if you sleep there-and all alone. What will Father say if you don't come to bed tonight?"

"He won't notice," replied her mother. "He was almost asleep when I left, and tomorrow he'll get up late. Go and do as I say."

"You'll be so cold," whimpered Kristin, but her mother pushed her away, somewhat more gently, and then shut herself inside the loft.

It was just as cold inside as out, and pitch dark. Ragnfrid fumbled her way over to the bed, tore the shawl from her head, took off her shoes, and crawled under the furs. They chilled her to the bone; it was like sinking into a snow drift. She pulled the covers over her head, tucked up her legs, and put her hands into the bodice of her clothing. And she lay there in that way, weeping-alternately crying quite softly, with streaming tears, and then screaming and gnashing her teeth in between her sobs. Finally she had warmed up the bed enough that she began to feel drowsy, and then she cried herself to sleep.

CHAPTER 5.

IN THE SPRINGTIME of Kristin's fifteenth year, Lavrans Bjrgulfsn and Sir Andres Gudmundsn of Dyfrin agreed to meet at Holledis ting ting.1 There they decided that Andres's second son, Simon, should be betrothed to Kristin Lavransdatter and that he would be given Formo, the property which Andres had inherited from his mother. The men sealed the agreement with a handshake, but no doc.u.ment was drawn up about it because Andres first had to arrange for the inheritance of his other children. And no betrothal ale was drunk either, but Sir Andres and Simon accompanied Lavrans back to Jrundgaard to see the bride, and Lavrans gave a great banquet. There they decided that Andres's second son, Simon, should be betrothed to Kristin Lavransdatter and that he would be given Formo, the property which Andres had inherited from his mother. The men sealed the agreement with a handshake, but no doc.u.ment was drawn up about it because Andres first had to arrange for the inheritance of his other children. And no betrothal ale was drunk either, but Sir Andres and Simon accompanied Lavrans back to Jrundgaard to see the bride, and Lavrans gave a great banquet.

Lavrans had finished building the new house-two stories tall, with brick fireplaces in both the main room and the loft. It was richly and beautifully decorated with wood carvings and fine furniture. He had also renovated the old loft and expanded the other buildings, so that he could now live in a manner befitting a squire. By this time, he possessed great wealth, for he had been fortunate in his undertakings, and he was a wise and thoughtful master. He was especially known for breeding the finest horses and the best cattle of all types. And now that he had arranged things so that his daughter would acquire Formo through marriage with a man of the Dyfrin lineage, people said that he had successfully achieved his goal of becoming the foremost landowner in the village. Lavrans and Ragnfrid were also very pleased, as were Sir Andres and Simon.

Kristin was a little disappointed when she first saw Simon Andressn, for she had heard such high praise of his handsome appearance and n.o.ble manner that there was no limit to what she had expected of her bridegroom.

Simon was indeed handsome, but he was rather heavyset for a man of only twenty; he had a short neck, and his face was as round and shiny as the moon. His hair was quite beautiful, brown and curly, and his eyes were gray and clear, but they seemed slightly pinched because his eyelids were puffy. His nose was too small and his mouth was also small and pouting, but not ugly. And in spite of his stoutness he was light-footed and quick and agile in all his movements, and he was an able sportsman. He was rather impetuous and rash in his speech, but Lavrans felt that he nevertheless showed both good sense and wisdom when he spoke to older men.

Ragnfrid soon came to like him, and Ulvhild developed at once the greatest affection for him; he was also particularly kind and loving toward the little maiden who was ill. And after Kristin had grown accustomed to his round face and his way of speaking, she was entirely satisfied with her betrothed and pleased that her father had arranged the marriage for her.

Fru Aashild was invited to the banquet. Ever since the people of Jrundgaard had taken up with her, the gentry of the nearest villages had once again begun to remember her high birth, and they paid less attention to her strange reputation; so now Fru Aashild was often in the company of others.

After she had seen Simon, she said, "He's a good match, Kristin. This Simon will do well in the world-you'll be spared many types of sorrow, and he'll be a kind man to live with. But he seems to me rather too fat and cheerful. If things were the same in Norway today as they were in the past and as they are in other countries, where people are no sterner toward sinners than G.o.d is Himself, then I would suggest you find yourself a friend who is thin and melancholy-someone you could sit and talk to. Then I would say that you could fare no better than with Simon."

Kristin blushed even though she didn't fully understand what Fru Aashild meant. But as time pa.s.sed and her dowry chests were filled and she listened to the constant talk of her marriage and what she would take to her new home, she began to yearn for the matter to be bound with a formal betrothal and for Simon to come north. After a while she began to think about him a great deal, and she looked forward to seeing him again.

Kristin was now grown-up, and she was exceedingly beautiful. She most resembled her father. She was tall and small-waisted, with slender, elegant limbs, but she was also buxom and shapely. Her face was rather short and round; her forehead low and broad and as white as milk; her eyes large, gray, and gentle under finely etched brows. Her mouth was a little too big, but her full lips were a fresh red, and her chin was round like an apple and nicely shaped. She had lovely thick, long hair, but it was rather dark now, more brown than gold, and quite straight. Lavrans liked nothing better than to hear Sira Eirik boast about Kristin. The priest had watched the maiden grow up, had taught her reading and writing, and was very fond of her. But Lavrans was not particularly pleased to hear the priest occasionally compare his daughter to a flawless and glossy-coated young mare.

Yet everyone said that if the accident had not befallen Ulvhild, she would have been many times more beautiful than her sister. She had the prettiest and sweetest face, white and pink like roses and lilies, with white-gold, silky-soft hair that flowed and curled around her slender neck and thin shoulders. Her eyes resembled those of the Gjesling family: they were deep-set beneath straight black brows, and they were as clear as water and grayish blue, but her gaze was gentle, not sharp. The child's voice was also so clear and lovely that it was a joy to listen to her whether she spoke or sang. She had an agile talent for book learning and for playing all types of stringed instruments and board games, but she took little interest in needlework because her back would quickly tire.

It seemed unlikely that this pretty child would ever regain the full health of her body, although she improved somewhat after her parents took her to Nidaros to the shrine of Saint Olav. Lavrans and Ragnfrid went there on foot, without a single servant or maid to accompany them, and they carried the child on a litter between them for the entire journey. After that, Ulvhild was so much better that she could walk with a crutch. But it was not likely that she would ever be well enough to marry, and so, when the time came, she would probably be sent to a convent with all the possessions that she would inherit.

They never talked about it, and Ulvhild was not aware that she was any different from other children. She was very fond of finery and beautiful clothes, and her parents didn't have the heart to refuse her anything; Ragnfrid st.i.tched and sewed for her and adorned her like a royal child. Once some peddlers came through the village and stayed the night at Laugarbru, where Ulvhild was allowed to examine their wares. They had some amber-yellow silk, and she was set on having a shift made from it. Lavrans normally never traded with the kind of people who traveled through the villages, illegally selling goods from the town, but this time he bought the entire bolt at once. He also gave Kristin cloth for her bridal shift, which she worked on during the summer. Before that she had never owned shifts made of anything but wool, except for a linen shift for her finest gown. But Ulvhild was given a shift made of silk to wear to banquets and a Sunday shift of linen with a bodice of silk.

Lavrans Bjrgulfsn now owned Laugarbru as well, which was tended by Tordis and Jon. Lavrans and Ragnfrid's youngest daughter Ramborg lived with them there; Tordis had been her wetnurse. Ragnfrid would hardly even look at the child during the first days after her birth because she said that she brought her children bad luck. And yet she loved the little maiden dearly and was constantly sending gifts to her and to Tordis. Later on she would often go over to Laugarbru to visit Ramborg, but she preferred to arrive after the child was asleep, and then she would sit with her. Lavrans and the two older daughters often went to Laugarbru to play with the little one; she was a strong and healthy child, though not as pretty as her sisters.

That summer was the last one that Arne Gyrdsn spent at Jrund gaard. The bishop had promised Gyrd to help the boy make his way in the world, and in the fall Arne was to leave for Hamar.

Kristin had undoubtedly noticed that Arne was fond of her, but in many ways her feelings were quite childish, so she didn't give it much thought and behaved toward him as she always had, ever since they were children. She sought out his company as often as she could and always took his hand when they danced at home or on the church hill. The fact that her mother didn't approve of this, she found rather amusing. But she never spoke to Arne about Simon or about her betrothal, for she noticed that he grew dispirited whenever it was mentioned.

Arne was good with his hands and he wanted to make Kristin a sewing chest to remember him by. He had carved an elegant and beautiful box and frame, and now he was working in the smithy to make iron bands and a lock for it. On a fine evening with fair weather late in the summer, Kristin went over to talk to him. She took along one of her father's shirts to mend, sat down on the stone doorstep, and began to sew as she chatted with the young man inside the smithy. Ulvhild was with her too, hopping around on her crutch and eating raspberries that were growing among the stones piled up on the ground.

After a while Arne came over to the smithy door to cool off. He wanted to sit down next to Kristin, but she moved away a bit and asked him to take care not to get soot on the sewing that she was holding on her lap.

"So that's how things have become between us?" said Arne. "You don't dare let me sit with you because you're afraid that the farm boy will get you dirty?"

Kristin looked at him in surprise and then said, "You know quite well what I meant. But take off your ap.r.o.n, wash the coal from your hands, and sit down here with me and rest a while." And she made room for him.

But Arne lay down in the gra.s.s in front of her.

Then Kristin continued, "Now don't be angry, dear Arne. Do you think I would be so ungrateful for the lovely present that you're making for me, or that I would ever forget that you've always been my best friend here at home?"

"Have I been?" he asked.

"You know you have," said Kristin. "And I'll never forget you. But you, who are about to go out into the world-maybe you'll acquire wealth and honor before you know it. You'll probably forget me long before I forget you."

"You'll never forget me," said Arne and smiled. "But I'll forget you before you forget me-you're such a child, Kristin."

"You're not very old yourself," she replied.

"I'm just as old as Simon Darre," he said. "And we can bear helmets and shields just as well as the Dyfrin people, but my parents have not had fortune on their side."

He had wiped off his hands on some tufts of gra.s.s. Now he took hold of Kristin's ankle and pressed his cheek against her foot, which was sticking out from the hem of her dress. She tried to pull her foot away, but Arne said, "Your mother is at Laugarbru, and Lavrans rode off from the farm-and from the buildings no one can see us sitting here. Just this once you must let me talk about what's on my mind."

Kristin replied, "We've always known, both you and I, that it would be futile for us to fall in love with each other."

"Can I put my head in your lap?" asked Arne, and when she didn't reply, he did it anyway, wrapping his arm around her waist. With the other hand he tugged on her braids.

"How will you like it," he asked after a moment, "when Simon lies in your lap like this and plays with your hair?"

Kristin didn't answer. She felt as if a weight suddenly fell upon her-Arne's words and Arne's head on her knees-it seemed to her as if a door were opening into a room with many dark corridors leading into more darkness. Unhappy and heartsick, she hesitated, refusing to look inside.

"Married people don't do things like this," she said abruptly and briskly, as if with relief. She tried to imagine Simon's plump, round face looking up at her with the same gaze in his eyes as Arne now had; she heard his voice-and she couldn't help laughing.

"I don't think Simon would ever lie down on the ground to play with my shoes!"

"No, because he can play with you in his own bed," said Arne. His voice made Kristin feel suddenly sick and helpless.

She tried to push his head off her lap, but he pressed it harder against her knees and said gently, "But I would play with your shoes and your hair and your fingers and follow you in and out all day long, Kristin, if you would be my wife and sleep in my arms every night."

He pulled himself halfway up, put his hands on her shoulders, and looked into her eyes.

"It's not proper for you to talk to me this way," said Kristin quietly and shyly.

"No, it's not," said Arne. He got to his feet and stood in front of her. "But tell me one thing-wouldn't you rather it had been me?"

"Oh, I would rather . . ." She sat in silence for a moment. "I would rather not have any man at all-not even . . ."