Oscar Stephenson, who had been the first to think of it, was among the last to go. He had been round to the Factor's house to see the child and to fetch Helga. The sun was reddening the sky over the eastern hills when they mounted their fleet young ponies. It was a quiet morning, with the promise of a radiant day.
Helga wore her woolen helmet and a fur cape over a white jersey. Oscar was in riding dress, with his new Italian cloak hung loose from his shoulders. Their way out of the town lay past the end of Government House, under the windows of Thora's bedroom, and Oscar stopped and called up to it.
"Helloa! Helloa!" cried Oscar.
"Is it worth while to waken her?" said Helga.
But the window opened and Anna's face appeared at it.
"It's Oscar," she said, facing back into the room.
"Good-by, Thora! We'll be back this evening."
There was an indistinct murmur from within, and then Anna said, "Thora says 'Good-by' and you are not to hurry home on her account."
Oscar laughed and answered, "We'll see, we'll see." And then the riders put their heels to their ponies and bounded away. Helga was in high spirits, but the clouds hung on Oscar and he tried in vain to banish them.
"All goes well, doesn't it?" asked Helga.