They soon left the sheep behind them, and entered a large field with a river running through it, where a number of beautiful grey cows were standing by a gate waiting for a milk-maid to come and milk them. “Oh, what lovely cows!” cried Helga again; “I am sure their milk must be sweeter than any other cows. How I should like to have some! I wonder to whom they belong?” “To your Hábogi,” replied he; “and some day you shall have as much milk as you like, but we cannot stop now. Do you see that big grey one, with the silver bells between her horns? That is to be yours, and you can have her milked every morning the moment you wake.” And Helga’s eyes shone, and though she did not say anything, she thought that she would learn to milk the cow herself. A mile further on they came to a wide common, with short, springy turf, where horses of all colours, with skins of satin, were kicking up their heels in play. The sight of them so delighted Helga that she nearly sprang from her saddle with a shriek of joy. “Whose are they?” Oh! whose are they?” she asked. “How happy any man must be who is the master of such lovely creatures!” “They are your Hábogi’s,” replied he, “and the one which you think the most beautiful of all you shall have for yourself, and learn to ride him.” At this Helga quite forgot the sheep and the cow. “A horse of my own!” said she. “Oh, stop one moment, and let me see which I will choose. The white one? No. The chestnut? No. I think, after all, I like the coal-black one best, with the little white star on his forehead. Oh, do stop, just for a minute.” But Hábogi would not stop or listen. “When you are married you will have plenty of time to choose one,” was all he answered, and they rode on two or three miles further. At length Hábogi drew rein before a small house, very ugly and mean-looking, and that seemed on the point of tumbling to pieces. “This is my house, and is to be yours,” said Hábogi, as he jumped down and held out his arms to lift Helga from the horse. The girl’s heart sank a little, as she thought that the man who possessed such wonderful sheep, and cows, and horses, might have built himself a prettier place to live in; but she did not say so. And, taking her arm, he led her up the steps. But when she got inside, she stood quite bewildered at the beauty of all around her. None of her friends owned such things, not even the miller, who was the richest man she knew. There were carpets everywhere, thick and soft, and of deep rich colours; and the cushions were of silk, and made you sleepy even to look at them; and curious little figures in china were scattered about. Helga felt as if it would take her all her life to see everything properly, and it only seemed a second since she had entered the house, when Hábogi came up to her.