Just then the bell above the stable rang. The midday rest was over. Mother Martha suddenly interrupted the old woman: "I say, Kaisa, do you think things can ever be right again between Ingmar and Brita?"
"What?" gasped the old woman in astonishment.
"I mean, if by chance she were not going to America, do you suppose she would have him?"
"Well, I should say not!"
"Then you are quite sure she would give him no for an answer."
"Of course she would."
Ingmar sat on the edge of the bed, his legs dangling over the side.
"Now you got just what you needed, Ingmar," he thought; "and now I guess you'll take that journey to-morrow," he said, pounding the edge of the bed with his fist. "How can mother think she'll get me to stay at home by showing me that Brita doesn't like me!"
He kept pounding the side of the bed, as if in thought he were knocking down something that was resisting him.
"Anyway, I'm going to chance it once more," he decided. "We Ingmars begin all over again when things go wrong. No man that is a man can sit back calmly and let a woman fret herself insane over his conduct."