"And of course we were independent. We got jobs in offices, at forty _kroner_ a month. Because now there was no longer anything in the least extraordinary about us students--we were no rarity, there were hundreds of us--forty _kroner_ was the most they gave us. Thirty went to Father and Mother for our keep, and ten for ourselves. It wasn't enough. We had to have pretty clothes for the office, and we were young, we liked to walk out; but everything was too dear for us, we went into debt, and some of us got engaged to poor devils like ourselves. The narrow school life during our years of development did more than hurt our intelligence; we wanted to show spirit, too, and not recoil before any experience, so some of us went to the bad, others married--and with such antecedents, of course, there was first-rate mismanagement in the home; others disappeared to America. But probably all of them are still boasting their languages and their examinations. It's all they have left--not happiness or health or innocence, but their matriculation. Good God!" "But surely some of you have become schoolmistresses with good salaries?" "Good salaries! Anyhow, first we had to start studying all over again. As though Father and Mother and brothers and sisters hadn't sacrificed enough for our sakes already! There was cramming again for long periods, and then we began life in the schoolroom--to give to others the same unnatural upbringing we had had ourselves. Oh, yes, ours was a noble vocation; it was almost like being missionaries. But now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to talk about something besides this exalted position. Anything else you please." Tradesman Batt opened the door and said: "Are you coming, Miss Torsen? It's stopped raining now." "Oh, leave me alone," she replied. Tradesman Batt withdrew. "Why do you turn him away like that?" I asked. "Because ... well, the weather is bad," she said, looking out of the window. "Besides, he's such a fool. And he takes such liberties." How sure of herself she looked, and how right she seemed! Poor Miss Torsen! True or not, the news gradually spread that Miss Torsen had recently lost her post at the school, where indulgence had been exercised for a long time toward her eccentric methods of teaching. So that was it. But certainly what she had told me was nonetheless true. X The news has leaked out that the master of the homestead here owes a huge debt, and that because he needs cash he has sold new, valuable plots of land to his cotters. I am finding out many things now. Mrs. Brede with the handsome, well-modeled head knows something about everything, for her many summers at the farm have given her knowledge. When she talks about conditions here, she need not grope for words. The master has taken a large mortgage.