churchyard. It struck like lightning into every home. The
unanimous veto of the county board had been in vain; Lars
Hogstad's influence had proved stronger. This was what his absence
meant, this was his work! It was involuntary on the part of the
people that admiration of the man and his dogged persistency
should lessen dissatisfaction at their own defeat; and the more
they talked of the matter the more reconciled they seemed to
become: for whatever has once been settled beyond all change
develops in itself, little by little, reasons why it is so, which
we are accordingly brought to acknowledge.

In going to church next day, as they encountered each other they
could not help laughing; and before the service, just as nearly
all were convened outside,--young and old, men and women, yes,
even children,--talking about Lars Hogstad, his talents, his
strong will, and his great influence, he himself with his
household came driving up in four carriages. Two years had passed
since he was last there. He alighted and walked through the crowd,
when involuntarily all lifted their hats to him like one man; but
he looked neither to the right nor the left, nor returned a single
salutation. His little wife, pale as death, walked behind him. In
the house, the surprise became so great that, one after another,
noticing him, stopped singing and stared. Canute Aakre, who sat in
his pew in front of Lars', perceiving the unusual appearance and
no cause for it in front, turned around and saw Lars sitting bowed
over his hymn-book, looking for the place.

He had not seen him until now since the day of the
representatives' meeting, and such a change in a man he never
could have imagined. This was no victor. His head was becoming