Oh, his umbrella!  Eleseus has forgotten his umbrella; but he can’t explain all about it, and only says:  “Never mind, drive on.”

“Don’t you want to turn back?”

“No; drive on.”

But a nuisance it was; how on earth had he come to leave it?  ’Twas all in a hurry, through his father being there waiting.  Well, now he had better buy a new umbrella at Trondhjem when he got there.  ’Twas no importance either way if he had one umbrella or two.  But for all that, Eleseus is out of humour with himself; so much so that he jumps down and walks behind.

They could hardly talk much on the way down after that, seeing Isak had to turn round every time and speak over his shoulder.  Says Isak:  “How long you’re going to be away?”

And Eleseus answers:  “Oh, say three weeks, perhaps, or a month at the outside.”

His father marvels how folk don’t get lost in the big towns, and never find their way back.  But Eleseus answers, as to that, he’s used to living in towns, and never got lost, never had done in his life.

Isak thinks it a shame to be sitting up there all alone, and calls out:  “Here, you come and drive a bit; I’m getting tired.”

Eleseus won’t hear of his father getting down, and gets up beside him again.  But first they must have something to eat—­out of Isak’s well-filled pack.  Then they drive on again.

They come to the two holdings farthest down; easy to see they are nearing the village now; both the houses have white curtains in the little window facing toward the road, and a flag-pole stuck up on top of the hayloft for Constitution Day. “’Tis Isak himself,” said folk on the two new farms as the cart went by.

At last Eleseus gives over thinking of his own affairs and his own precious self enough to ask:  “What you driving down for today?”

“H’m,” says his father. “’Twas nothing much today.”  But then, after all, Eleseus was going away; no harm, perhaps, in telling him. “’Tis blacksmith’s girl, Jensine, I’m going down for,” says his father; ay, he admits so much.

“And you’re going down yourself for that?  Couldn’t Sivert have gone?” says Eleseus.  Ay, Eleseus knew no better, nothing better than to think Sivert would go down to the smith’s to fetch Jensine, after she had thought so much of herself as to leave Sellanraa!

No, ’twas all awry with the haymaking the year before.  Inger had put in all she could, as she had promised.  Leopoldine did her share too, not to speak of having a machine for a horse to rake.  But the hay was much of it heavy stuff, and the fields were big.  Sellanraa was a sizeable place now, and the women had other things to look to besides making hay; all the cattle to look to, and meals to be got, and all in proper time; butter and cheese to make, and clothes to wash, and baking of bread; mother and daughter working all they could.  Isak was not going to have another summer like that; he