Returning home, Erik walked through the forest. A lark sang, and he stopped to answer. Snow still lay under the pines, but one felt the stirring restlessness beneath the earth, as of plants and roots asking to live.
At the shore of the lake, Nils was painting a rowboat and Greta was with him. Erik watched the sunbeams dancing on her golden hair as they danced upon the glistening water.
Greta was reading aloud to Nils. She was reading to him about the business of a market garden. It was the study that Nils liked best. She had often helped him with it before the Baron's arrival.
How happy they looked together, and how handsome, too! Like a god and a goddess in Norse mythology.
Erik approached. Greta closed the book and arose.
"I must go back to the house now," she said. "Will you walk a way with me, Erik?"
Nils stood up, too, and wiped his paint-smeared hands on his working overalls. He said nothing, but Erik could see the suffering in his face.
Oh, why didn't he tell Greta how much he longed to marry her? Erik felt sure that she would gladly give up the Baron for brave, strong Nils! Why was he such a fool?
Yet Erik realized that he was only a little boy; he could not know the ways of grown folks, so he was silent as he walked beside Greta.
She took his hand and squeezed it and he looked up into her face. She was crying. Then, all at once, she sank down upon a stump and hid her face in her arms.