She thought of her father and mother, and vowed to herself that she would requite them for all their love, once they had got over the sorrow she must bring upon them by breaking with the Dyfrin folk. And wellnigh most of all, she thought of Brother Edwin’s words of how she must not seek comfort in looking on others’ faults; she felt she grew humble and kind, and now she saw at once how easy it was for her to win folks’ friendship. Then was she comforted by the thought that after all ’twas not so hard to come to a good understanding with people—and so it seemed to her it surely could not be so hard for her and Erlend either. Until the day she gave her word to Erlend, she had always striven earnestly to do what was right and good—but she had done all at the bidding of others. Now she felt she had grown from maid to woman. ’Twas not only by reason of the fervent secret caresses she had taken and given, not only that she had passed from her father’s ward and was now under Erlend’s will. For Edwin had laid upon her the burden of answering for her own life, aye and for Erlend’s too. And she was willing to bear it well and bravely. Thus she went about among the nuns at Yule-tide; and, throughout the goodly rites and the joy and peace of the holy time, though she felt herself unworthy, yet she took comfort in thinking that the time would soon come when she could set herself right again. * * * * * But the second day of the new year, Sir Andres Darre with his wife and all five children came, all unlooked for, to the convent. They were come to keep the last days of Yule-tide with their friends and kindred in the town, and they asked that Kristin might have leave to be with them in their lodging for a short space. “For methought, my daughter,” said Lady Angerd, “you would scarce be loth to see a few new faces for a time.” * * * * * The Dyfrin folk dwelt in a goodly house that stood in a dwelling place near the bishop’s palace—Sir Andres’ cousin owned it. There was a great hall where the serving-folk slept, and a fine loft-room with a fireplace of masonry and three good beds; in the one Sir Andres and Lady Angerd slept with their youngest son, Gudmund, who was yet a child; in another slept Kristin and their two daughters, Astrid and Sigrid, and in the third Simon and his eldest brother Gyrd Andressön. All Sir Andres’ children were comely; Simon the least so, yet he too was reckoned to be well-favoured. And Kristin marked still more than when she was at Dyfrin the year before, that both his father and mother and his four brothers and sisters hearkened most to Simon and did all he would have them. They all loved each other dearly, but all agreed, without grudging or envy, in setting Simon foremost amongst them.