That evening Nikolai came over to my room of his own accord for a chat about the mare and the state of the roads. When he was saying good-bye at the door, he seemed struck by a sudden thought. "By the way," he said, "I suppose it's no good asking you, but you could get a lift for your knapsack, you know. We could be there day after tomorrow," he added. How could I offend him again? We walked all next day, spent the night in the mountain hut at the frontier, and then went on again. Nikolai carried my knapsack all the way, as well as his own smaller parcels. When I suggested that we should share the burden, he said it was no weight at all. I think Nikolai wanted to spare the little tawny lady. At noon we saw the fjord beneath us. Nikolai stopped and carefully rubbed down the mare once more. As our path sloped downward, I felt a pressure, a contraction in my chest; it was the sea air. Nikolai asked me what was the matter, but it was nothing. On reaching his home, we found the yard well swept, and in the doorway a woman on her knees with her back toward us, scrubbing the floor. It was the Saturday cleaning day. "Hullo!" Nikolai roared in a tremendously loud voice, stopping dead in his tracks as he did so. The woman in the doorway looked round; her hair was gray, but it was she, Miss Ingeborg, _Fru_ [Footnote: Mrs. (Translator's note.)] Ingeborg. "Good heavens!" she exclaimed, hastily mopping up the rest of the floor. "Look at all the cleaning that goes on here!" Nikolai said, laughing. "That's her idea of fun!" And I had believed Carpenter Nikolai incapable of lightheartedness! Yet I had seen how content he had been all the way home, how deeply content, and proud of the little lady he was bringing with him. Even now he was still stroking her. Fru Ingeborg rose to her feet, her skirts dark with the damp. It all seemed strange to me; her hair was so gray. I needed a little time, a moment, to collect myself, and turned away to give her time, too. "What a lovely horse!" I heard her exclaim. Nikolai went on stroking the mare. "I've brought a visitor with me," he said. I went to her and perhaps--I don't know--perhaps I rather overdid my unconcern. I greeted her and insisted on shaking her wet hand, which she hesitated to give me. I was anxious to appear quite formal with her, and shook her hand as I repeated my greeting. "Well, of all people!" she replied. I persisted in my formal attitude. "You must blame your husband," I said. "It's his fault that I'm here." "I wish you heartily welcome," she returned. "How lucky I've just got through the cleaning!" A slight pause. We looked at each other; two years had passed since our last meeting. To break the silence, we all began to admire the mare, Nikolai swelling with pride. Then we heard a child calling from within the house, and the young mother ran off. "Come in, won't you!" she called back over her shoulder.