rather have her say Yes than No, but she was really afraid.  She went to his mother, whom she had always liked, and found to her surprise that she knew nothing.  But the mother was so delighted with the idea that with all her might she urged Randi to accept him.  “I’ll help you,” she said.  “Father will want no allowance from the farm.  He has all he needs, and he doesn’t wish his children to be longing for his death.  Things will be divided at once, and the little that we keep to live on will be divided too when we are gone.  So you see there will be no trouble with us.”  Yes, Randi knew all along that Knut and Astrid were kind and nice.  “And the boy,” said Astrid, “is good and thoughtful about everything.”  Yes, Randi had felt that too; she was not afraid but that she would get on with him—­if she were only capable enough herself!

A few days later everything was settled.  Endrid was happy, and so were his parents; for this was a much respected family that he was marrying into, and the girl was both nice-looking and clever; there was not a better match for him in the district.  The parents on both sides consulted together, and settled that the wedding should be just before harvest, as there was nothing to wait for.

The neighbourhood generally did not look on the engagement in the same light as the parties concerned.  It was said that the pretty young girl had “sold herself.”  She was so young that she hardly knew what marriage was, and the sly Knut had pushed forward his son before any other lovers had the chance.  Something of this came to Randi’s ears, but Endrid was so loving to her, and in such a quiet, almost humble way, that she would not break off with him; only it made her a little cool.  Both his and her parents heard what was said, but took no notice.

Perhaps just because of this talk they determined to hold the wedding in great style, and this, for the same reason, was not unacceptable to Randi.  Knut’s friends, the Pastor, the Captain, and the Bailiff, with their large families, were to be among the guests, and some of them were to accompany the pair to church.  On their account Knut wanted to dispense with the fiddlers—­it was too old-fashioned and peasant-like.  But Astrid insisted that they must be played to church and home again with the Bridal March of her race.  It had made her and her husband so happy; they could not but wish to hear it again on their dear children’s great festival day.  There was not much sentiment about Knut; but he let his wife have her way.  The bride’s parents got a hint that they might engage the fiddlers, who were asked to play the old March, the family Bridal March, that had lain quiet now for a time, because this generation had worked without song.