The painter put the question a second time, and a third, but Ingmar
stood there, dazed, as if he had not understood him.

"Are they ready at last with their answer?" he wondered. "Is this a
message from father to say that he wishes me to marry this year?"

He was so overwhelmed by the thought that he hired the man on the
spot. Then he went on with his plowing, deeply moved and almost
happy.

"You'll see it won't be so very hard to do this now that you know
for certain it is father's wish," he said.



II

A fortnight later Ingmar Ingmarsson stood polishing some harness.
He seemed to be in a bad humour, and found the work rather irksome.
"Were I in our Lord's place," he thought, then put in another rub
or two and beg again: "Were I in our Lord's place, I'd see to it
that a thing was done the instant your mind was made up. I
shouldn't allow folks such a long time to think it over, and ponder
all the obstacles. I shouldn't give them time to polish harness and
paint wagons; I'd take them straight from the plow."

He caught the sound of wagon wheels from the road, and looked out.
He knew at once whose rig it was. "The senator from Bergskog is
coming!" he shouted into the kitchen, where his mother was at work.
Instantly fresh wood was laid on the fire and the coffee mill was