Page:Pontoppidan - Emanuel, or Children of the Soil (1896).djvu/222

 "Now, if on'y folks won't be ill natured about it, that's what I mind most," said Else, as she wiped away a tear with her apron. "There'll be enough spiteful gossip, never fear, and may be some will be ready to say right out, that we took up all this business about the curate on'y to entice him here. But we mustn't bother our heads about that."

"Oh, they can't have so much to gossip about," Anders ventured carefully. "I should think folks knew the curate well enough by now."

Else was never in the habit of listening to what he said, nor did she now pay much attention to his speech, but silently looked at her daughter in thoughtful perplexity.

After a time she said, half shyly, "Well, then, may be he—your—I mean the curate, will come here to-day."

"He said he would come this morning," muttered Hansine as before, without lifting her head.

"Well, then, we must get to work, we must tidy up the place against his coming. We wouldn't want him to think he wasn't welcome. You, Anders, must smarten yourself up a bit—when you've fed the beasts."

"Me!" said he astonished, as he looked down at his patched, grey homespun garments, where bits of straw and chaff were sticking into the rough nap.

It was a busy morning. As it was Monday, they had much of the unperformed work of the