Mary herself was standing on the pier when the steamer came in. It was Saturday afternoon; all that could do so were leaving town to enjoy the last days of autumn in the country. The weather was beautiful; in the south of Norway it can be so till far on in September. Mary was dressed in blue and carried a blue parasol, which she waved to Jörgen and some of her girl friends who were standing beside him. All on board moved towards the gangway to watch the meeting. Jörgen felt, as soon as he reached her side, that he must be cautious. He divined that she had come to meet him here in order that their meeting might not be private. On the way up to the house they talked of the swallows, which were now assembling for their departure--of the farm-overseer, who had just shot a huge eagle--of the writing-board which Mrs. Dawes had had constructed--of the good aftermath, of the price of fruit and turnips. In the hall she left him with a short "Excuse me!" and hurried upstairs. The boy who was carrying Jörgen's portmanteau had followed them in; Jörgen and he stood still, not knowing where to go. Then Mary called from above: "This way, please!" Opening the door of the visitors' room next her own, she told the boy to take the portmanteau in there. To Jörgen she said: "Shall we go and see Father?" She led the way. The nurse was not in the room. Probably it was to send her away that Mary had run up first. A light kindled in the sick man's eyes as he saw Jörgen enter. As soon as the door was closed, Mary went up to her father, bent over him, and said: "Jörgen and I are engaged now, Father." All the affection and happiness that a human face can express beamed from Anders Krog's. Smiling, Mary turned towards Jörgen, who, pale and agitated, was prepared to rush forward and embrace her. But he felt that though his astonishment, his gratitude, and his adoration were quite acceptable to her, she desired no such manifestation of them. This did not detract from his happiness. He met her smiling eyes with an expression of intense, perfect delight. He pressed the hand which Anders Krog could move; he looked into his tearful eyes, his own filling. But no word was spoken until Mary said: "Now we must go to Aunt Eva." With a feeling of triumph she led the way. He followed, admiring. His heart was full of many feelings, not least among them admiration of the magnanimity with which she had forgiven. He thought: Out in the passage she will turn round, and then ... But she went straight to Mrs. Dawes's door and knocked. When Mrs. Dawes saw Jörgen, she clapped her fat hands, tugged at her cap, and tried to sit up, but could not for excitement. She fell back again, wept, blessed them, and stretched out her arms. Jörgen allowed himself to be embraced, but would not kiss her. As soon as sensible conversation became possible, Mary said: "Don't you think too, Aunt Eva, that we ought to go and call on Uncle Klaus to-morrow?"