"Oyvind has not been happy of late," said she.

"Ah, no! he who is ambitious never is happy,"--and he gazed up with an
old man's calmness into God's peaceful heavens above.




CHAPTER VI.


Half a year later--in the autumn it was (the confirmation had been
postponed until then)--the candidates for confirmation of the main
parish sat in the parsonage servant's hall, waiting examination, among
them was Oyvind Pladsen and Marit Heidegards. Marit had just come down
from the priest, from whom she had received a handsome book and much
praise; she laughed and chatted with her girl friends on all sides and
glanced around among the boys. Marit was a full-grown girl, easy and
frank in her whole address, and the boys as well as the girls knew that
Jon Hatlen, the best match in the parish, was courting her,--well might
she be happy as she sat there. Down by the door stood some girls and
boys who had not passed; they were crying, while Marit and her friends
were laughing; among them was a little boy in his father's boots and
his mother's Sunday kerchief.

"Oh, dear! oh, dear!" sobbed he, "I dare not go home again."

And this overcame those who had not yet been up with the power of
sympathy; there was a universal silence. Anxiety filled their throats