Ormarr and Runa went up to the widow from Bolli and her daughter, and greeted them kindly, thanking them for their attendance. They talked for a little of indifferent matters, and then Ormarr said suddenly to the widow:
“I should like to have a word with you alone.”
Snebiorg blushed, and remained shyly standing beside Runa, while Ormarr and her mother went off a little way. The widow’s face revealed nothing of her feelings, but in her heart she was keenly aware that what was coming concerned her daughter’s happiness and her own peace of mind.
“Ørlygur seems strange today,” she thought to herself. “I hope nothing is wrong.” And she strove to repress a sigh.
As soon as they were out of hearing of the others, Ormarr spoke.
“I do not know if you are aware of it,” he said, “but Ørlygur and Bagga love each other. I have only known it myself a few days.”
The widow nodded, and Ormarr went on:
“I only wished to tell you that my wife and I heartily approve of their marrying.”
The widow’s face brightened; the wrinkles seemed smoothed away. Unable to speak, she offered Ormarr a trembling hand. Ormarr grasped it cordially, and then, putting his arm through hers, they walked up and down together.
“I may be frank with you,” Ormarr went on. “We have known each other for a long time now, and I am sure you will not be hasty. First of all, I must tell you that Runa and I were opposed to the idea to begin with. We should never have attempted to stand in the way of his own wishes, but we hoped he would give up his intention of marrying Snebiorg. But my brother, whom we have buried today, gave his blessing to the union, and from that moment I felt that my own reasons for opposing it had only been poor and of minor importance. And now that I have told you this, I can come to what I chiefly wanted to say. Something has happened to Ørlygur; what it is I do not know, for he has not confided in me or in any one else. He is hardly likely to open his heart to any one on the subject, I think. But I have an idea as to what is passing in his mind, and I am anxious about him. Even if he should appear to have changed his mind with regard to Bagga, I want you to do your utmost to encourage her and keep her faithful to him, for I know that in his heart he loves her, and will always do so. But there is something on his mind at present; he is in doubt about something; more, I cannot say. You know he comes of an impulsive race, and if he should now, while he is young, lose control of his feelings and cease to take a healthy interest in life, then the family will die out. It would be a pity. I know that you have suffered, and more than most. I also have known suffering, and I should be proud if I could say I had borne my trials as well as you have yours. If, therefore, your daughter inherits her mother’s courage and strength, it would be a good thing for the race. As yet I am not quite clear what we ought to do. But I wished to let you know my feelings, so that I might have you on my side. The interests of—our children, I had nearly said—are at stake. I always regard Ørlygur as my own son. And it will be a hard struggle, for neither of them, certainly not Ørlygur, must ever realize that we are taking any part.”