Her voice trembled strangely, but that did not move me. Next morning Edwarda was standing outside the hut when I went out. I had thought it all over during the night, and taken my resolve. Why should I let myself be dazzled any longer by this creature of moods, a fisher-girl, a thing of no culture? Had not her name fastened for long enough on my heart, sucking it dry? Enough of that!--though it struck me that, perhaps, I had come nearer to her by treating her with indifference and scorn. Oh, how grandly I had scorned her--after she had made a long speech of several minutes, to say calmly: “Yes? You had something to say to me...?” She was standing by the big stone. She was in great excitement, and would have run towards me; her arms were already opened. But she stopped, and stood there wringing her hands. I took off my cap and bowed to her without a word. “Just one thing I wanted to say to you to-day, Glahn,” she said entreatingly. And I did not move, but waited, just to hear what she would say next. “I hear you have been down at the blacksmith's. One evening it was. Eva was alone in the house.” I started at that, and answered: “Who told you that?” “I don't go about spying,” she cried. “I heard it last evening; my father told me. When I got home all wet through last night, my father said: 'You were rude to the Baron to-day.' 'No,' I answered. 'Where have you been now?' he asked again. I answered: 'With Glahn.' “And then my father told me.” I struggled with my despair; I said: “What is more, Eva has been here.” “Has she been here? In the hut?” “More than once. I made her go in. We talked together.” “Here too?” Pause. “Be firm!” I said to myself; and then, aloud: “Since you are so kind as to mix yourself up in my affairs, I will not be behindhand. I suggested yesterday that you should take the Doctor; have you thought it over? For really, you know, the prince is simply impossible.” Her eyes lit with anger. “He is not, I tell you,” she cried passionately. “No, he is better than you; he can move about in a house without breaking cups and glasses; he leaves my shoes alone. Yes! He knows how to move in society; but you are ridiculous--I am ashamed of you--you are unendurable--do you understand that?” Her words struck deep; I bowed my head and said: “You are right; I am not good at moving in society. Be merciful. You do not understand me; I live in the woods by choice--that is my happiness. Here, where I am all alone, it can hurt no one that I am as I am; but when I go among others, I have to use all my will power to be as I should. For two years now I have been so little among people at all...” “There's no saying what mad thing you will do next,” she went on. “And it is intolerable to be constantly looking after you.” How mercilessly she said it! A very bitter pain passed through me. I almost toppled before her violence. Edwarda had not yet done; she went on: