"'The last time I saw her was in the courtroom. Then she was so
gentle, and longed so for her child. Not one harsh word did she say
against me. She took all the blame to herself. Many in that
courtroom were moved to tears, and the judge himself had to swallow
hard. He didn't give her more than three years, either.'

"But father does not say a word.

"'It will be hard for her when fall comes, and she's sent home.
They won't be glad to have her again at Bergskog. Her folks all
feel that she has brought shame upon them, and they're pretty sure
to let her know it, too! There will be nothing for her but to sit
at home all the while; she won't even dare to go to church. It's
going to be hard for her in every way.'

"But father doesn't answer.

"'It is not such an easy thing for me to marry her! To have a wife
that menservants and maidservants will look down upon is not a
pleasant prospect for a man with a big farmstead. Nor would mother
like it. We never invite people to the house, either to weddings
or funerals.'

"Meanwhile, not a word out of father.

"Of course at the trial I tried to help her as much as I could. I
told the judge that I was entirely to blame, as I took the girl
against her will. I also said that I considered her so innocent of
any wrong that I would marry her then and there, if she could only
think better of me. I said that so the judge would give her a