She seemed small as a child and slightly made, as she sat in the great high-backed arm-chair which had been brought up thither. A table had been set before her too, covered with Ragnfrid’s finest, fringed, linen tablecloth. Bacon and fowl were set out upon the silver platter; there was wine in a mazer bowl, and she had Lavrans’ own silver goblet to drink from. She had finished eating and was busy drying her small and slender hands on one of Ragnfrid’s best hand-towels. Ragnfrid herself stood in front of her and held for her a brass basin with water. Lady Aashild let the hand-towel sink into her lap; she smiled to the child, and said in a clear and lovely voice: “Come hither to me, child!” Then to the mother: “Fair children are these you have, Ragnfrid.” Her face was greatly wrinkled, but as clear white and pink as a child’s, and it looked as though her skin must be just as soft and fine to the touch. Her mouth was as red and fresh as a young woman’s, and her large, hazel eyes shone bright. A fine, white, linen headdress lay close about her face and was fastened under her chin with a golden clasp; over it she had a veil of soft, dark-blue wool; it fell over her shoulders and far down upon her dark, well-fitting dress. She was upright as a wand, and Kristin felt more than thought that she had never seen a woman so fair and so mannerly as was this old witch-wife, with whom the great folk of the valley would have naught to do. Lady Aashild held Kristin’s hand in her old, soft one; and spoke to her with kindly jesting; but Kristin could not answer a word. Then said Lady Aashild with a little laugh: “Is she afraid of me, think you?” “Nay, nay,” Kristin all but shouted. And then Lady Aashild laughed still more, and said to the mother: “She has wise eyes, this daughter of yours, and good strong hands, nor is she used to be idle, I can see. You will need one by-and-by to help you tend Ulvhild, when I am gone. ’Twere well, therefore, you let Kristin be by me and help while yet I am here—she is old enough for that; eleven years is she not?” Thereupon the Lady Aashild went out, and Kristin would have followed her, but Lavrans called to her from his bed. He lay flat upon his back with the pillows stuffed beneath his updrawn knees; Lady Aashild had bidden that he should lie so, that the hurt in his breast might the sooner heal. “Now surely you will soon be well, sir father, will you not?” asked Kristin. Lavrans looked up at her—the child had never said “sir” to him before. Then he said gravely: “For me there is naught to fear;—’tis worse with your sister.” “Aye,” said Kristin, and sighed. She stood yet a little while by his bed. Her father said no more, and Kristin found naught to say. And when Lavrans after a while said she should go down to her mother and Lady Aashild, Kristin hastened out and ran across the courtyard down into the winter-room. ------------------------------------------------------------------------