But Frokenen said never a word.

The priest asked:

"But are you sure there's water here?"

I answered carefully, as a man of sober judgment, that it was not a thing
to swear to beforehand, but there was every sign of it.

"What sort of signs?" asked Fruen.

"The nature of the ground. And you'll notice there's willow and osiers
growing about. And they like a wet soil."

The priest nodded, and said:

"He knows his business, Marie, you can see."

On the way back, Fruen had got so far as to argue quite unwarrantably that
she could manage with one maid less once they'd water laid on. And not to
fail her, I put in:

"In summer at least you might. You could water all the garden with a hose
fixed to the tap and carried out through the cellar window."

"Splendid!" she exclaimed.

But I did not venture to speak of laying a pipe to the cow-shed. I had
realized all the time that with a well twice the size, and a branch pipe