This was inga, from the neighbouring farm, a girl of eighteen, their own cousin, newly betrothed.
"The Bridal March; One Day"
Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
When Mildrid and inga walked about in the fields, whispering and laughing, with their arms round each other, as girls love to go, poor Beret would throw herself down and cry with jealousy.
"The Bridal March; One Day"
Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
She was delighted at the thought of this, especially as her friend inga was to be at the next soeter.
"The Bridal March; One Day"
Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson