The schoolmaster soon observed that he was not the same Ovind who used to read because it fell out so, and play because it was necessary. He often talked with him, and sought to find the cause, for the lad's heart was not light as in former days. He spoke also with the parents, and by agreement he came one Sunday evening late in the Winter, and after sitting awhile, he said,--"Come, Ovind, let us go out, I want to talk with you a little."
Ovind got up and went with him. They took the path towards Heidegaard. The conversation did not flag, but they spoke of nothing important; when they came near the farms, the schoolmaster took the direction of the middle one, and as they got nearer they heard the sound of laughter and merriment.
"What is up here?" said Ovind.
"They are dancing," said the schoolmaster, "shall we not go in?"
"No."
"Will you not go to a dance, lad!"
"No, not yet."
"Not yet? When then?"
He did not answer.
"What do you mean,--not yet?"