Two days passed. The paint arrived, but was put aside for the time being; we had not done with the field-work yet by a long way, though we were using both the carriage horses for sowing and harrowing, and when it came to planting potatoes, Nils had to ask up at the house for the maids to come and help. The Captain gave him leave, said yes to all that was asked, and went off to manoeuvres. So we were left to ourselves. But there was a big scene between husband and wife before he went. Every one of us on the place knew there was trouble between them, and Ragnhild and the dairymaid were always talking about it. The fields were coming on nicely now, and you could see the change in the grassland from day to day; it was fine spring weather, and all things doing well that grew, but there was trouble and strife at Øvrebø. Fruen could be seen at times with a face that showed she had been crying; or other times with an air of exaggerated haughtiness, as if she cared nothing for any one. Her mother came--a pale, quiet lady with spectacles and a face like a mouse. She did not stay long--only a few days; then she went back to Kristianssand--that was where she lived. The air here did not agree with her, she said. Ah, that great scene! A bitter final reckoning that lasted over an hour--Ragnhild told us all about it afterwards. Neither the Captain nor Fruen raised their voices, but the words came slow and strong. And in their bitterness the pair of them agreed to go each their own way from now on. “Oh, you don't say so!” cried all in the kitchen, clasping their hands. Ragnhild drew herself up and began mimicking: