"Ho."
Oline falls to praising the children, so fine and big they've grown; and Isak taking over more ground, and going to build again, by the look of things—there's no end to things with them; a wonderful place, and hard to find its like. "And what is he going to build this time?"
"Ask him yourself," says Inger. "I don't know."
"Nay," says Oline. "'Tis no business of mine. I just looked along to see how things were with you here; it's a pleasure and delight for me to see. As for Goldenhorns, I'll not ask nor speak of her—she's fallen into proper ways, as any one can see."
They talk for a while companionably; Inger is no longer harsh. The clock on the wall strikes with its sweet little note. Oline looks up with tears in her eyes; never in all her humble life did she hear such a thing—'tis like church and organ music, says Oline. Inger feels herself rich and generous-minded towards her poor relation, and says: "Come into the next room and see my loom."
Oline stays all day. She talks to Isak, and praises all his doings.
"And I hear you've bought up the land for miles on every side.
Couldn't you have got it for nothing, then? There's none as I can see
would take it from you."
Isak had been feeling the need of praise, and is the better for it now. Feels a man again. "I'm buying from the Government," says Isak.
"Ay, Government. But they've no call to be grasping in a deal, surely?
What are you building now?"
"Why, I don't know. Nothing much, anyway."
"Ay, you're getting on; building and getting on you are. Painted doors to the house, and a clock on the wall—'tis a new grand house you're building, I suspect."