she goes. However, as it has once for all turned out so, there's nothing to be said against it, and we can only ask the Lord to send His blessing."
There was a moment's silence.
This was broken by the entrance of Anders Jörgen in his dark holiday clothes and white stocking feet. He remained standing doubtfully by the door, and looked at Else as if he expected a sign from her. At last he crossed the floor awkwardly, and greeted the curate with "Good luck to ye, and God bless ye."
Emanuel pressed his hand silently.
"Won't the curate be pleased to take a seat," said Else.
While the others seated themselves round the room, Hansine and her friend on the end of the bench under the window, Emanuel took the armchair by the stove. He was hurt and almost angry. It seemed to him that he had a right to expect a more hearty reception.
Else began to talk of the weather, and the want of rain beginning to tell on the grass and the early seed, about all the sickness among the people, and about the new parish doctor at Kyndlöse.
Emanuel only answered in monosyllables.
At last the conversation dropped altogether, and a painful silence ensued.
"I say, Anders," at length Else said to her husband, "the curate mebbe would like to see the cattle."
