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.
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