Eli excused herself because she had not her jacket on.
"Well, I know, it is really a shame to ask such a thing the first time I meet a person; but then one has to bear with old folks."
Eli said she was quite willing to go, she only wanted to fetch her jacket.
It was a close-fitting jacket; when it was hooked, she looked as if she wore a complete dress; but now she only fastened the two lowest hooks, she was so warm. Her fine linen had a small turned down collar, and was fastened at the throat with a silver button, in the form of a bird with outspread wings. Such a one tailor Nils had worn the first time Margit Kampen had danced with him.
"What a handsome button," she remarked, looking at it.
"My mother gave it to me," said Eli.
"Yes, so I thought," and Margit helped the girl adjust it as she spoke.
Now they walked on along the road. The new-mown hay was lying about in heaps. Margit took up a handful, smelled it, and thought it was good. She asked about the live stock at the parsonage, was led thereby to inquire about that at Böen, and then told how much they had at Kampen.
"The gard has prospered finely of late years, and it can be made as much larger as we ourselves wish. It feeds twelve milch cows now, and could feed more; but Arne reads a great many books, and manages according to them, and so he must have his cows fed in a first-rate way."
Eli made no reply to all this, as was quite natural; but Margit asked her how old she was. She was nineteen.