The evening now closed in; and as they were doubtful of the road, and found it would be impossible to reach Palini that night, they took the way to a village, which they perceived at the extremity of the valley.,
Aunt Grenertsen was difficult to talk with—so contrary, somehow, even if not really cross, that it was very tiresome. She wasn’t the least bit like Uncle Isaac of Kingthorpe, who was always kind and gentle, always pleasant. Oh, dear, no! Aunt Grenertsen wasn’t like Uncle Isaac; far, far from it!,
If he only had something to give her—he himself. Of course Mother would find something, but he would like to, too. He hadn’t a cent in his bank. What few cents he had saved had all been poked out long since, and he hadn’t anything else either. Well, yes, he had that fine new cake of India ink Father had just given him; but Aunt Grenertsen surely did not draw with India ink..
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