XV.
SOMEBODY'S FUTURE HOME.
"Good bye," said Margit at the Clergyman's door. It was a Sunday evening in advancing summer-time; the Clergyman had returned from church, and Margit had been sitting with him till now, when it was seven o'clock. "Good bye, Margit," said the Clergyman. She hurried down the door-steps and into the yard; for she had seen Eli Böen playing there with her brother and the Clergyman's son.
"Good evening," said Margit, stopping; "and God bless you all."
"Good evening," answered Eli. She blushed crimson and wanted to leave off the game; the boys begged her to keep on, but she persuaded them to let her go for that evening.
"I almost think I know you," said Margit.
"Very likely."
"Isn't it Eli Böen?"
Yes, it was.
"Dear me! you're Eli Böen; yes, now I see you're like your mother."