“I’m glad to hear you say that!” exclaimed Pelle. “A month ago you thought the dead were the only ones who were well off.”
“You’re a rock!” said Morten, smiling and putting his hands on the other’s shoulders. “If everything else were to change, we should always know where you were to be found.”
“Come to table!” cried Ellen, “but at once, or the surprise will be cold.” She stood waiting with a covered dish in her hand.
“Why, I believe you’ve got new-laid eggs there!” exclaimed Pelle, in astonishment.
“Yes, the hens have begun to lay again the last few days. It must be in Morten’s honor.”
“No, it’s in honor of the fine weather, and because they’re allowed to run about anywhere now,” said Lasse Frederik.
Morten laughed. “Lasse Frederik’s an incorrigible realist,” he said. “Life needs no adornment for him.”
Ellen looked well after Morten. “Now you must make a good breakfast,” she said. “You can’t be sure you’ll get proper food out there in foreign countries.” She was thinking with horror of the messes her lodgers in the “Palace” had put together.
The carriage was at the door, the trunk was put up beside the driver, and Morten and Pelle got into the carriage, not before it was time either. They started at a good pace, Lasse Frederik and Sister each standing on a step all the way down to the main road. Up at the gable window Ellen stood and waved, holding Boy Comfort by the hand.
“It must be strange to go away from everything,” said Pelle.