"No, no; but I have accepted my fate. Since my best beloved ones are all scientific sillies, I have to appear to be interested in what they do."
She felt it to be her duty to secure, on behalf of science, a big study for her botanists, and Mor Inga let her have a vast room in one of the out-buildings.
"They must have plenty of room to quarrel in," she explained to Mor Inga. "Everything goes so much more easily if there is generous space."
"And," she added to herself, "it is my experience that scientific people are safer caged up in their laboratories and studies. You know they are all right then. When they are wandering about, they might get lost; but when they are shut up, they are comparatively safe, barring brain fever and explosions, of course."
So she caged her botanists, and felt herself free to amuse herself with human nature whilst they were immersed in the study of nature.
"Well, then, good-bye for the moment," she said, when she shut them up for the first time. "I will now go and have a few disagreeable words with that horrid Sorenskriver, who dislikes my belovèd English. I will go and sit quite near him, and knit my stockings for the dear English soldiers. That annoys him beyond everything. What a delight to see his irritation! Poor Sorenskriver! He suffers, and I enjoy. That is the way in life, and very amusing too. My poor dear ones, what a pity you cannot have a little fun too. Well, I suppose you do get it through your microscopes."
But they had a great deal of fun in a quiet way. No one could be long with Tante without catching a little of her gaiety; and even Ejnar was heard to laugh sometimes over matters which had nothing to do with his work. And Gerda left her cage and went singing in the birchwoods above the Gaard, and along the mountain paths. She was content, too, and had forgotten about the saxifrage. And Tante attempted short little strolls along the easiest road, and always stopped by the black hay-barn near the group of mountain-ashes, which rejoiced her eyes. Here she sat down and took out her opera-glasses, really to observe the clouds, though she pretended always to be looking at the numberless Gaards and barns which covered the hillsides and mountain-slopes. But once she forgot her rôle of indifference to nature, and cried enthusiastically to Gerda:
"By St Olaf! I never saw such soft clouds in my life, nor such colours! And just look at the reflection in the rivers, Gerda. Sapristi, how beautiful!"
"What is this I hear?" cried Gerda. "Tante admiring nature!"
"Oh, that's a big Gaard—that yonder," said Tante, correcting herself with a twinkle in her eye. "I wonder what the name is, and how many cotters they have, and how many children, how many cows up at the Saeter, how many goats, how many cheeses they make, how many sheep they have; whether Bedstefar and Bedstemor are alive, and whether they have as comfortable quarters as our Bedstefar and Bedstemor. Ah, and that reminds me that I am drinking coffee with Bedstemor this afternoon. Help me up, Gerda, and don't stand staring at that cloud as though you had never seen one in your life before."