Some were so excessively bashful that Marit had to be sent for, and then she came out and insisted upon their entering.

Sometimes, too, there appeared one who had had no invitation and who had by no means intended to go in, coming only to look on, until perhaps she might have a chance just to take one single dance.

Those whom Marit liked well she invited into a small chamber, where her grandfather sat smoking his pipe, and her grandmother was walking about.

The old people offered them something to drink and spoke kindly to them.

Oyvind was not among those invited in, and this seemed to him rather strange.
The best fiddler of the parish could not come until later, so meanwhile they had to content themselves with the old one, a houseman, who went by the name of Gray-Knut.