"You here?" he said, and blushed a fiery red. Then he put his arms around her, and she leant her head on his breast. He whispered something in her ear, and for a long while they stood in silence, her arms around his neck.
As they walked home together in the fair summer evening, they could utter but few words in their strange, new Happiness. Nature interpreted their hearts to one another, and on his way back from that first summer-night's walk, Arne made many new songs.
It was harvest time when the marriage of Eli with Arne was celebrated. The Black Water was full of boats taking people to Böen.
All the doors were open at the house. Eli was in her room with Mathilde and the pastor's wife. Arne was downstairs looking out from the window.
Presently Baard and Birgit, both dressed, for church, met on the stairs, and went up together to a garret where they were alone. Baard had something to say, but it was hard to say it.
"Birgit," he began, "you've been thinking, as I've been, I daresay. He stood between us two, I know, and it's gone on a long time. To-day a son of his has come into our house, and to him we've given our only daughter.... Birgit, can't we, too, join our hearts to-day?"
His voice trembled, but no answer came.
They heard Eli outside, calling gently: "Aren't you coming, mother?"
"Yes, I'm coming now, dear!" said Birgit, in a choking voice. She walked across the room to Baard, took his hand in hers, and broke into violent sobs. The two hands clung tight and it was hand in hand they opened the door and went downstairs. And when the bridal train streamed down to the landing stage, and Arne gave his hand to Eli, Baard, against all custom, took Birgit's hand in his own and followed them calmly, happily, smilingly.
In the boat his eyes rested on the bridal pair and on his wife. "Ah!" he said to himself, "no one would have thought such a thing possible twenty years ago."