"I have come to request that the banns may be published for my son; he is to be married to Karen Storliden, daughter of Gudmund, who is here with me."
"That is to say, to the richest girl in the parish."
"They say so," replied the farmer, he stroked his hair up with one hand.
The pastor sat a minute as in thought, he said nothing, but entered the names in his books, and the men wrote under.
Thord laid three dollars on the table.
"I should have only one," said the pastor.
"Know that perfectly, but he is my only child; will do the thing well."
The pastor took up the money: "This is the third time now, Thord, that you stand here on your son's account."
"But now I am done with him," said Thord, took up his pocket book, said good night, and went. The men slowly followed.
Just a fortnight after this, the father and son were rowing over the lake in still weather to Storliden, to arrange about the wedding.