“Why, yes, Grindhusen, the Captain's wife is married twice as good as before.” I knew that well enough. And she fancied she owed me these little marks of kindliness, for something or other. Well and good, but now it was enough. Best let it be. Autumn drawing on, the scent of the jasmine all importunate down in the shrubbery, and red and yellow showing up long since on the wooded hills. Not a soul in the place but is glad to have Fruen at home again; the flag, too, does its part. 'Tis like a Sunday; the maids have put clean aprons on, fresh from the ironing. In the evening I went down by the little stone steps to the shrubbery and sat there a while. The jasmines were pouring out waves of perfume after the heat of the day. After awhile Nils came down, looking for me. “No visitors here now,” says Nils. “And no high goings-on at nights. Have you heard anything of that sort at night now, since the Captain first came back?” “No.” “And that's full ten weeks ago now. What d'you say if I tore off this thing now?” And he pointed to his temperance badge. “Captain's given up drinking, here's Fruen home again, and no call to be unfriendly anyway to either of them.” He handed me a knife, and I cut the badge away. We talked for a bit about the farm-work--Nils thought of nothing else. “We'll have most of the corn under shelter by tomorrow night,” he says. “And thank goodness for that! Then we'll sow the winter rye. Queer thing, isn't it? Here's Lars went on year after year sowing by machine, and thought it good enough. Not if I know it! We'll sow ours by hand.” “But why?” “On land like ours! Now just take the man over there, for instance; he sowed by machine three weeks ago and some's come up and some not. No. The machine goes too deep in the soil.” “H'm! Don't the jasmines smell fine tonight?” “Yes. There's been a big difference with the barley and oats these last few days. Getting on time for bed, though, now!” He got up, but I did not move. “Looks like being fine again tomorrow,” says Nils, glancing at the sky. And then he went on about the grass in the garden; worth cutting, he said it was. “You going to stay down here long?” he asked suddenly. “Yes, for a bit; why not? Oh, well, perhaps I'd better go up too.” Nils walked off a few paces, then came back again. “Better not stay here any longer,” he said. “Come along up here with me.” “Think so?” I said, and rose at once. Evidently Nils had something in his mind, and had come down here on purpose to fetch me. Had he found me out? But what was there to find out? Did I know myself what I had gone down to the shrubbery for? I remember now that I lay face downwards, chewing a stalk of grass. There was light in a certain upstairs window of the house. I was looking at that. And that was all. “Not being inquisitive now, but what's the matter?” I asked. “Nothing,” said Nils. “The girls said you were down here, so I just came along. Why, what else?”