"Well, kjaere," she said, "and what do you think of this part of the world? Glad to be here?"
"Yes, Knutty," he answered. "And it is ripping to see you again."
"Am I so very 'bully'?" she said, in her teasing way.
"Yes," he said, smiling.
"Ah," she said, "I suppose I am!" And they both laughed.
"Jens and I are going fishing this afternoon up to a mountain lake over there," he said. "I wish you'd come too. Do, Knutty."
"Dear one," she answered, "I'll come with pleasure if you'll send over for one of the London cart-horses. Nothing else on this earth could carry me, and then I suppose he couldn't climb! You surely did not think of hoisting me up on one of those yellow ponies? No, I think I'll stop below and eat the fish you bring home. All the same, thank you for the invitation. Many regrets that age and weight, specially weight, prevent me from accepting."
There was a pause, and Alan went on eating his multebaer.
"Did you like your journey to America?" she asked, without looking up from her work.
"Yes," he answered half-heartedly, and his face clouded over. "But—but I was glad to come back."