Small as it is, he has made good and sensible use of it. I find a
strange sense of pleasure coming over me as I look at this cosy homestead
in the woods. There is a faint soughing of the wind in the forest behind;
close up to the house are foliage trees, and the aspens rustle like silk.
I walk back home. Night is deepening; all the birds are silent; the air
calm and warm, in a soft bluish gloom.
* * * * *
"Let us be young to-night!" It is a man's voice, loud and bright, from
behind the lilacs. "Let's go and dance, or do something wild."
"Have you forgotten what you were like last year?" answers Fru Falkenberg.
"You were nice and young then, and never said such things."
"No, I never said such things. To think you should remember that! But you
scolded me one evening last year too. I said how beautiful you were that
evening, and you said no, you weren't beautiful any more; and you called
me a child, and told me not to drink so much."
"Yes, so I did," says Fru Falkenberg, with a laugh.
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