She went in herself, those nearest rose and bowed, for they were for the most part her former pupils, and this was the old custom. But when they did so the whole assemblage rose, too, by degrees. She bowed right and left, and then took her seat by the side of the tribune which stood on the platform. She looked across at the audience. Every place was occupied; some few men were standing in the gangway; these now had chairs given to them; they were brought in by an old woman. Tomas Rendalen was standing by the window talking to Dr. Holmsen. This gentleman was somewhat fat and florid. His large prominent eyes had a mixed expression of sarcasm and slyness; he stood there, half smiling, half embarrassed, with one hand playing with his brown, slightly grizzled beard as he listened to Rendalen. Tomas Rendalen was his complete opposite--decided, fiery, eloquent. The school children had been eager to tell that he used scent, and truly--it wafted from him as from some fine lady. There was something precise, too, about his linen, and about the way in which his grey coat, of the most enviably new cut, fitted him. He was well-built and very elastic in all his movements. While he whispered to the doctor he had a nervous, impressive manner, as though every moment were of the greatest importance. Suddenly he broke off and hurried across the room, for the door had opened once more, and those entered for whom apparently he had been waiting--old Green, led by Karl Vangen. Yes, now he was _old_ Green; a bowed old man who walked cautiously forward, led by tall Pastor Vangen. Karl's face was one of those which do not easily alter; the large forehead, the honest eyes, the deep eye-sockets, and the wide mouth with its slight smile, which Tomas had in his time made such fun of, were all just the same as before, only on a taller body. Tomas came forward to salute the old man, and walked respectfully beside him to where an armchair had been placed for him, beside Fru Rendalen, upon the platform. Karl Vangen sat down beside him, and Tomas Rendalen mounted the tribune. He pushed his nervous, freckled hands through his red hair, making it stand still higher up; felt for his pocket-handkerchief, took hold of the water bottle, then moved some things off the desk; he was a dreadfully restless fellow. He peered through his half-closed grey eyes, now here, now there, finally at his mother and old Green, smiled at Karl and began. His voice was a tenor, full, mellow, and practised, so that it sounded pleasantly. To the utter astonishment of the assembled company, he said that it was principally on the subject of morality that he wished to speak; it was principally for a moral object that this hall had been built. The whole course of education in the school would, still more than before, have morality for its aim.