"Sort of autumn fever. I heard about it up at the post office."
"Is there, though? Why, there you are, Lovise," he calls out. "There's
some sort of fever about, it seems. That's all it is."
Fruen made no answer.
We went on loading up, and Fruen moved farther and farther away as we came
up. At last the frames were cleared, and she stood there guiltily, very
pale after her trouble.
"Shall I see you back to the house?" asked the Captain.
"No, thank you, I'd rather not," she answered, walking away.
The Captain stayed out and worked with us till evening.
* * * * *
So here was everything gone wrong again. Oh, but it was hard for them
both!
And it was not just a little matter that could be got over by a little
give and take on either side, as folk say; no, it was a thing insuperable,
a trouble rooted deep. And now it had come to mutiny, no less: Fruen had
taken to locking her door at night. Ragnhild had heard the Captain, highly
offended, talking to her through the wall.
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