"Poor Jörgen!" she said again, and took his hand.
It was the first token of affection she had bestowed upon him. She had to draw her hand away again immediately to hold down her dress, for a strong wind was blowing at the point, and a sailing-boat was tacking just below them. The people in it waved up to them, and they waved back. How fresh the air was! How brilliantly blue the fjord!
As they were descending towards the bay, Mary asked: "Do you really believe that Uncle Klaus will disinherit you if we marry?"
"My dear girl, we have nothing to marry on!"
"We can sell these shares," she said undauntedly.
"If we were to sell them at their present price, in order to be able to marry at once, he would be absolutely certain to cut me off."
But Mary would not give in. "There are our woods."
"It will be several years before there is any timber to fell."
How well informed Jörgen was! How carefully he had thought the whole thing out!
They had now reached the stretch of level road which led along the shore to the last headland before Krogskogen. At a farm here there was a surly old Lapland dog. Mary and he were good friends. He always barked a little as people came up; probably he did not see well; but as soon as he scented an acquaintance his tail began to wag.