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was barely spoken when they saw Hildur Ericsdotter drive into the yard. She came immediately into the cottage and was unlike herself in many respects. She did not step into the room with her usual briskness, but it appeared almost as though she were inclined to pause near the door, like some poor beggarwoman.

However, she came forward finally and shook hands with mother Ingeborg and Erland. Then she turned to Gudmund: “It is with you that I would have a word or two.”

Gudmund arose, and they went into the side room. He arranged a chair for Hildur, but she did not seat herself. She blushed with embarrassment, and the words dropped slowly and heavily from her lips. “I was⁠—yes, it was much too hard⁠—that which I said to you this morning.”

“We came so abruptly, Hildur,” said Gudmund.

She grew still more red and embarrassed. “I should have thought twice. We could⁠—it would of course⁠—”

“It is probably best as it is, Hildur. It is nothing to speak of now, but it was kind of you to come.”

She put her hands to her face, drew a breath as deep as a sigh, then raised her head again.

“No!” she said, “I can’t do it in this way. I don’t want you to think that I’m better than I am. There was someone who came to me and told me that you were not guilty and advised me to hurry over here at once and make everything right again. And I was not to mention that I already knew you were innocent, for then you wouldn’t think it so noble of me to come. Now I want to say to you that I wish I had thought of this myself, but I hadn’t. But I have longed for you all day and wished that all might be well between us. Whichever way it turns out, I want to say that I am glad you are innocent.”

“Who advised you to do this?” asked Gudmund.

“I was not to tell you that.”

“I am surprised that anyone should know of it. Father has but just returned from the Sheriff. He telegraphed to the city, and an answer has come that the real murderer has already been found.”

As Gudmund was relating this, Hildur felt that her legs were beginning to shake, and she sat down quickly in the chair. She was frightened because Gudmund was so calm and pleasant, and she was beginning to perceive that he was wholly out of her power. “I can understand that you can never forget how I behaved to you this forenoon.”

“Surely I can forgive you that,” he said in the same even tone. “We will never speak of the matter again.”

She shivered, dropped her eyes, and sat as though she were expecting something. “It was simply a stroke of good fortune, Hildur,” he said, coming forward and grasping her hand, “that it is over between us, for today it became clear to me that I love another. I think I have been fond of her for a long time, but I did not know it until today.”

“Whom do you care for, Gudmund?” came in a colorless voice from Hildur.

“It doesn’t matter. I shall not marry her, as she does not care for me, nor can I marry anyone else.”

Hildur raised her head. It was not easy to tell what was taking place in her. At this moment she felt that she, the rich farmer’s daughter, with all her beauty and all her possessions, was nothing to Gudmund. She was proud and did not wish to part from him without teaching him that she had a value of her own, apart from all the external things. “I want you to tell me, Gudmund, if it is Helga from Big Marsh whom you love.”

Gudmund was silent.

“It was she who came to me and taught me what I should do that all might be well between us. She knew you were innocent, but she did not say so to you. She let me know it first.”

Gudmund looked her steadily in the eyes. “Do you think this means that she has a great affection for me?”

“You may be sure of it, Gudmund. I can prove it. No one in the world could love you more than she does.”

He walked rapidly across the floor and back, then he stopped suddenly before Hildur. “And you⁠—why do you tell me this?”

“Surely I do not wish to stand beneath Helga in magnanimity!”

“Oh, Hildur, Hildur!” he cried, placing his hands on her shoulders and shaking her to give vent to his emotion. “You don’t know, oh, you don’t know how much I like you at this moment! You don’t know how happy you have made me!”

Helga sat by the roadside and waited. With her cheek resting on her hand, she sat and pictured Hildur and Gudmund together and thought how happy they must be now.

While she sat thus, a servant from NĂ€rlunda came along. He stopped when he saw her. “I suppose you have heard that affair which concerns Gudmund?”

She had.

“It was not true, fortunately. The real murderer is already in custody.”

“I knew it couldn’t be true,” said Helga.

Thereupon the man went, and Helga sat there alone, as before. So they knew it already down there! It was not necessary for her to go to NĂ€rlunda and tell of it.

She felt herself so strangely shut out! Earlier in the day she had been so eager. She had not thought of herself⁠—only that Gudmund and Hildur’s marriage should take place. But now it flashed upon her how alone she was. And it was hard not to be something to those of whom one is fond. Gudmund did not need her now, and her own child had been appropriated by her mother, who would hardly allow her to look at it.

She was thinking that she had better rise and go home, but the hills appeared long and difficult to her. She didn’t know how she should ever be able to climb them.

A vehicle came

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