IB AND CHRISTINE. 439

he looked after the field. He did itall alone, for his mother kept
no faru-servant, and his father had died long ago.

Only seldom he got news of Christine from some passing pos-
tillion or eel-fisher. But she was well off at the rich innkeeper’s ;
and after she had been confirmed, she wrote a letter to her father,
and sent a kind message to Ib and his mother; and in the letter
there was mention made of certain linen garments and a fine
new gown, which Christine had received as a present from her
employers. This was certainly good news.

Next spring, there was a knock one day at the door of our Ib’s
old mother, and behold, the boatman and Christine stepped into
the room. Ske had come on a visit to spend the day’: a carriage
had to come from the Herning inn to the next village, and she
had taken the opportunity to see her friends once again. She
looked as handsome as a real lady, and she had a pretty gown on,
which had been well sewn and made expressly for her. There
she stood, in grand array, and Ib was in his working clothes.
He could not utter a word: he certainly seized her hand, and
held it fast in his own, and was heartily glad ; but he could not
get his tongue to obey him. Christine was not embarrassed,
however, for she went on talking and talking, and, moreover,
kissed Ib on his mouth in the heartiest manner.

“ Did you know me again directly, Ib?” she asked; but even
afterwards, when they were left quite by themselves, and he stood
there still holding her hand in his, he could only say,

“You look quite like a real lady, and Iam so uncouth. How
often I have thought of you, Christine, and of the old times !”

And arm in arm they sauntered up the great ridge, and looked
across the stream towards the heath, towards the great hills over-
grown with bloom. It was perfectly silent; but by the time they
parted it had grown quite clear to him that Christine must be
his wife. Had they not, even in their childhood, been called the
betrothed pair? To him they seemed to be really engaged to
each other, though neither of them had spoken a word on the
subject. Only for a few more hours could they remain together,
for Christine was obliged to go back into the next village, from
whence the carriage was to start early next morning for Herning.
Her father and Ib escorted her as far as the village. It wasa
fair moonlight evening, and when they reached their destination,
and Ib still held Christine’s hand in his own, he could not make
up his mind to let her go. His eyes brightened, but still the
words came halting over his lips. Yet they came from the depths
of his heart, when he said, /

“T£ you have not become too grand, Christine, and if you can
make up your mind to live with me in my mother’s house as my
wife, we must become a wedded pair some day; but we can wait
awhile yet.” ;

“Yes, let us wait for a time, Ib,” she replied ; and he kissed