Then she remembered what she had to do: she rose, walked up to Oyvind,
thrust one of her dirt-covered hands into his, and, turning her face
away, said, "I beg your pardon."

But then her courage forsook her, and, flinging herself on the goat,
she burst into tears.

"I believe you had better keep the goat," faltered Oyvind, looking
away.

"Make haste, now!" said her grandfather, from the hill; and Marit got
up and walked, with hesitating feet, upward.

"You have forgotten your garter," Oyvind shouted after her. She turned
and bestowed a glance, first on the garter, then on him. Finally she
formed a great resolve, and replied, in a choked voice, "You may keep
it."

He walked up to her, took her by the hand, and said, "I thank you!"

"Oh, there is nothing to thank me for," she answered, and, drawing a
piteous sigh, went on.

Oyvind sat down on the grass again, the goat roaming about near him;
but he was no longer as happy with it as before.




CHAPTER II.