But we farm-hands worked our
hardest, and all for the good of our master; that was our way.
Ay, that was our way, no doubt.
But maybe now and again we might have just a thought of question as to
that zeal of ours, whether it was so noble after all. Nils was a man from
the village who was anxious to get his field work done at least as quickly
as any of his neighbours; his honour was at stake. And I followed him. Ay,
even when he put on that temperance badge, it was, perhaps, as much as
anything to get the Captain sober enough to see the fine work we had done.
And here again I was with him. Moreover, I had perhaps a hope that Fruen,
that Fru Falkenberg at least, might understand what good souls we were. I
doubt I was no better than to reckon so.
The first time I saw Fru Falkenberg close to was one afternoon as I was
going out of the kitchen. She came walking across the courtyard, a
slender, bareheaded figure. I raised my cap and looked at her; her face
was strangely young and innocent to see.
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