He made a faint attempt at a joke. "Oh well, I never have any say in
my own house. I suppose you must have it your own way." He stroked her
forehead; and when she saw how deeply moved he was, she smiled up at him
with her most radiant smile.
On one of the first days of the hay-harvest, Peer lay out on a sunny
hillside with his head resting on a haycock, watching his people at
work. The mowing machine was buzzing down by the lake, the spreader at
work on the hill-slopes, the horses straining in front, the men sitting
behind driving. The whole landscape lay around him breathing summer and
fruitfulness. And he himself lay there sunk in his own restful quiet.
A woman in a light dress and a yellow straw hat came down the field
road, pushing a child's cart before her. It was Merle, and Merle was
looking round her, and humming as she came. Since the birth of her child
her mind was at peace; it was clear that she was scarcely dreaming now
of conquering the world with her music--there was a tiny being in the
little cart that claimed all her dreams. Never before had her skin
been so dazzling, her smile so red; it was as if her youth now first
blossomed out in all its fullness; her eyes seemed opened wide in a dear
surprise.
After a while Peer went down and drove the mowing machine himself. He
felt as if he must get to work somehow or other to provide for his wife
and child.
But suddenly he stopped, got down, and began to walk round the machine
and examine it closely.
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