The first thing Ovind did when he awoke in the morning, was to look out and see if it was fine weather; if it was thick and misty, or he heard it dripping from the roof, he dressed as slowly as if there was nothing to be done that day. But on the contrary, and especially on holidays, if it was sharp, cold, and clear weather,--his best clothes and no work, the whole of the afternoon and evening free,--hey! he bounded out of bed, was dressed like lightning, and could scarcely eat anything for excitement. When afternoon came he sprang over the hill to the sledge ground, and joined the party with a long shout that echoed from cliff to cliff, and the sound died far away. Then he looked for Marit, and when he found her there, he did not take much more notice of her. Now one Christmas the boy and the girl were both about sixteen or seventeen years of age, and they were both to be confirmed in the Spring. In Christmas week there was to be a grand party at Heidegaard, where Marit's grand-parents lived, who had brought her up and educated her. They had promised her this fête for three years, and now at last they were obliged to fulfil their word. To this party Ovind was invited. It was a dull evening, not a single star to be seen; it would probably rain next day. There were great drifts of snow along the mountain side, with here and there bare places, and again the groups of birch trees standing isolated and conspicuous against the white back ground. The farmstead lay in the middle of the fields on the mountain side, and in the darkness the houses looked like black clumps from which the light streamed first from one window then from another. It seemed as though they were busy inside. Old and young flocked thither from different directions. No one liked to go in first; so when they reached the farm, instead of going direct to the house, they loitered about the outbuildings. Some hid behind the cattle shed, a few under the granary, some stood beside the hay-loft and imitated foxes, while others replied in the distance as cats; one stood behind the bakehouse and howled like an angry old dog, until there was a general chase. The girls came by-and-bye in great numbers, accompanied by their younger brothers, who would fain conduct themselves as grown-up men. The girls were very shy, and when the older youths already assembled came out to meet them, they ran away in all directions, and had to be brought in one by one. A few there were who would not be persuaded to enter, till Marit came herself and bade them. Now and then there also came a few who had certainly not been invited, and whose intention had been simply to look on from outside, but who, seeing the dancing, at last ventured in just for one single turn. Marit invited those she liked best into the private sitting room where her grandparents sat, and they fared exceedingly well. Now Ovind was not of the number, and this he thought very strange.