Forgive me, I was not sure but it was all a
dream; for I dream so much."
Then one of the maids ran out to call Lage
Ulfson, who had gone to the stables to harness
the horses; and he came and greeted the unknown
man, and thanked him for last meeting,
as is the wont of Norse peasants, although they
had never seen each other until that morning.
But when the stranger had eaten two meals in
Lage's house, Lage asked him his name and his
father's occupation; for old Norwegian
hospitality forbids the host to learn the guest's
name before he has slept and eaten under his
roof. It was that same afternoon, when they
sat together smoking their pipes under the huge
old pine in the yard,--it was then Lage inquired
about the young man's name and family; and
the young man said that his name was Trond
Vigfusson, that he had graduated at the
University of Christiania, and that his father had
been a lieutenant in the army; but both he and
Trond's mother had died, when Trond was only
a few years old. Lage then told his guest
Vigfusson something about his family, but of
the legend of Asathor and Saint Olaf he spoke
not a word. And while they were sitting there
talking together, Aasa came and sat down at
Vigfusson's feet; her long golden hair flowed in
a waving stream down over her back and
shoulders, there was a fresh, healthful glow on
her cheeks, and her blue, fathomless eyes had a
strangely joyous, almost triumphant expression.
The father's gaze dwelt fondly upon her, and
the collegian was but conscious of one thought:
that she was wondrously beautiful.
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