"She's earned her bread for many a year, and more too!" answered Lars Peter. "I don't know what I'd have done without her."
The inn-keeper went on his way, but another time when Lars Peter was outside chopping wood he came again and began where he left off. "I don't like to see children hanging about after they've been confirmed," said he. "The sooner they get out the quicker they learn to look after themselves."
"Poor people learn that soon enough whether they are at home or out at service," answered Lars Peter. "We couldn't do without our little housekeeper."
"They'd like to have Ditte at the hill-farm next May—it's a good place. I've been thinking Lars Jensen's widow could come and keep house for you; she's a good worker and she's nothing to do. You might do worse than marry her."
"I've a wife that's good enough for me," answered Lars Peter shortly.
"But she's in prison—and you're not obliged to stick to her if you don't want to."
"Ay, I've heard that, but Sörine'll want somewhere to go when she comes out."
"Well, that's a matter for your own conscience, Lars Peter. But the Scriptures say nothing about sharing your home with a murderess. What I wanted to say was, that Lars Jensen's wife takes up a whole house."
"Then perhaps we could move down to her?" said Lars Peter brightly. "It's not very pleasant living here in the long run." He had given up all hope of building himself.
"If you marry her, you can consider the house your own."