Here these good folk lived a merry, carefree life. They visited the churches and made their offerings every day, came together with their friends and drank in their company each evening, while the young folk had full leave to play and dance. All showed Kristin the greatest kindness, and none seemed to mark how little glad she was. Of an evening, when the light had been put out in the loft-room, and all had sought their beds, Simon was wont to get up and go to where the maidens lay. He would sit a while on the edge of the bed; his talk was mostly to his sisters, but in the dark he would let his hand rest on Kristin’s bosom—while she lay there hot with wrath. Now that her sense of such things was keener, she understood well that there were many things Simon was both too proud and too shy to say to her, since he saw she had no mind to such talk from him. And she felt strangely bitter and angry with him, for it seemed to her as though he would fain be a better man than he who had made her his own—even though Simon knew not there was such a one. But one night when they had been dancing at another house, Astrid and Sigrid were left behind there to sleep with a playmate. When, late at night, the Dyfrin folk had gone to rest in their loft-room, Simon came to Kristin’s bed and climbed up into it; he laid himself down above the fur cover. Kristin pulled the coverlid up to her chin and crossed her arms firmly upon her breast. In a little Simon tried to put his hand upon her bosom. She felt the silken broidery on his wristband, and knew he had not taken off any of his clothes. “You are just as bashful in the dark as in the light, Kristin,” said Simon, laughing a little. “Surely you can at least let me have one hand to hold,” he said, and Kristin gave him the tips of her fingers. “Think you not we should have somewhat to talk of, when it so falls out that we can be alone a little while?” said he; and Kristin thought, now was the time for her to speak. So she answered: yes. But after that she could not utter a word. “May I come under the fur,” he begged again. “’Tis cold in the room now—” And he slipped in between the fur coverlid and the woollen blanket she had next her. He bent one arm round the bed head, but so that he did not touch her. Thus they lay a while. “You are not over-easy to woo, i’ faith,” said Simon soon after, with a resigned laugh. “Now I pledge you my word, I will not so much as kiss you, if you would not I should. But surely you can speak to me at least?” Kristin wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, but still she was silent. “Nay, if you are not lying there trembling!” went on Simon. “Surely it cannot be that you have aught against me, Kristin?” She felt she could not lie to Simon, so she said “No,”—but nothing more. Simon lay a while longer; he tried to get her into talk with him. But at last he laughed again and said: