“True it is, much hath been as it should not have been in my household—But now will I have the cart sent south to you again, when Kristin and I are come thither—Dear my father-in-law,” said he, smiling and holding out his hand, “be assured, ’twill be changed times with all things, and with me too, when once I have brought Kristin home to be mistress of my house. ’Twas an ill thing, this of the cart. But I promise you, this shall be the last time you have cause of grief against me.” “Dear Lavrans,” said Baard Petersön, “forgive him in this small matter—” “Small matter or great—” began Lavrans—but checked himself, and took Erlend’s hand. Soon after he made the sign for the feast to break up, and the guests sought their sleeping-places. * * * * * On the Saturday before noon all the women and girls were busy in the old store-house loft-room, some making ready the bridal bed, some dressing and adorning the bride. Ragnfrid had chosen this house for the bride-house, in part for its having the smallest loft-room—they could make room for many more guests in the new store-house loft, the one they had used themselves in summer time to sleep in when Kristin was a little child, before Lavrans had set up the great new dwelling-house, where they lived now both summer and winter. But besides this, there was no fairer house on the farm than the old store-house, since Lavrans had had it mended and set in order—it had been nigh falling to the ground when they moved in to Jörundgaard. It was adorned with the finest woodcarving both outside and in, and if the loft-room were not great, ’twas the easier to hang it richly with rugs and tapestries and skins. The bridal bed stood ready made, with silk-covered pillows; fine hangings made as it were a tent about it; over the skins and rugs on the bed was spread a broidered silken coverlid. Ragnfrid and some other women were busy now hanging tapestries on the timber walls and laying cushions in order on the benches. Kristin sat in a great arm-chair that had been brought up thither. She was clad in her scarlet bridal robe. Great silver brooches held it together over her bosom, and fastened the yellow silk shift showing in the neck-opening; golden armlets glittered on the yellow silken sleeves. A silver-gilt belt was passed thrice around her waist, and on her neck and bosom lay neck-chain over neck-chain, the uppermost her father’s old gold chain with the great reliquary cross. Her hands, lying in her lap, were heavy with rings. Lady Aashild stood behind her chair, brushing her heavy, gold-brown hair out to all sides. “To-morrow shall you spread it loose for the last time,” she said smiling, as she wound the red and green silk cords that were to hold up the crown, around Kristin’s head—Then the women came thronging round the bride.