Greta was sitting in her mother's study. She raised her head when she heard Erik's voice across the fields.
"Happy little Erik," she sighed, and smiled through her tears.
Her mother said, "That does not answer my question, Greta. Will you tell Baron Karl that he may announce your engagement?"
Fru Hansson's desk was strewn with business papers. They had rows and rows of figures all over them. A photograph of the Baron stood above. It smirked down, as much as to say, "After I am master of Hanssonborg, you will not have to worry about these matters."
Greta looked at her mother's hands. They were thin and wrinkled. They were also white and delicate. They must never have to work.
"Please, Greta, give me your answer," repeated Fru Hansson pleadingly.
And Greta said, "Very well, mother. I'll tell Baron Karl today that he may announce our engagement."
FOLK DANCING AT THE MIDSUMMER NIGHT FESTIVAL IN DALECARLIA