"Wait till we get a bit on the way," said she. "Leopoldine, can you
sit up by yourself?"

But her father won't have it; she might fall down under the wheels.
"You sit up with her and drive yourself."

So they drove off, Isak walking behind.

He looked at the two in the cart as he walked. There was Inger, all
strangely dressed and strange and fine to look at, with no hare-lip
now, but only a tiny scar on the upper lip. No hissing when she
talked; she spoke all clearly, and that was the wonder of it all. A
grey-and-red woollen wrap with a fringe looked grand on her dark hair.
She turned round in her seat on the cart, and called to him:

"It's a pity you didn't bring a skin rug with you; it'll be cold, I
doubt, for the child towards night."

"She can have my jacket," said Isak. "And when we get up in the woods,
I've left a rug there on the way."

"Oh, have you a rug up in the woods?"

"Ay. I wouldn't bring it down all the way, for if you didn't come
today."

"H'm. What was it you said before--the boys are well and all?"

"Ay, thank you kindly."