Her voice failed her again, and Jan began to perceive why she had aged so much the past few months; but now his mind was so taken up with other things that he no longer cherished the old resentment against his new employer.
“It’s best to forgive and forget,” he said. “It pays in the long run.”
The old mistress caught her breath. “Then it is just as I thought!” she said, drawing herself up to her full height. “I’ll not ask you to tell what took place. It’s best for me not to know. But one thing is certain, Lars Gunnarson shall never get his hands on my father’s stick!”
She had already turned to go, then suddenly faced about. “Here, Jan,” she said, holding out the things. “You may have the stick and cap, for I want them to be in good, honest hands. I daren’t take them home again lest I be forced to turn them over to Lars; so you keep them as a memento of the old master, who always thought well of you.”
Then she walked away, erect and proud, and there Jan stood holding the cap and stick. He hardly knew how it had come about. He had never expected to be so honoured. Were these heirlooms now to be his? Then in a moment, he found an explanation: Glory Goldie was back of it all. The old mistress knew that he was soon to be elevated to a station so exalted that nothing would be too good for him. Indeed, had the stick been of silver and the cap of gold they would have been even more suitable for the father of Glory Goldie.
Clothed in Satin
No letter had come from Glory Goldie to either her father or mother. But it mattered very little now that Jan knew she was silent simply because she wished her parents to be all the more surprised and happy when the time came for her to proclaim the good tidings.
But, in any case, it was a good thing for him that he had peeped into her cards. Otherwise he might easily have been made a fool of by persons who thought they knew more about Glory’s doings than he did. For instance, there was Katrina’s experience at church the first Sunday in Advent. Katrina had been to service, and upon her return Jan had noticed that she was both alarmed and depressed.
She had seen a couple of youths who were just back from Stockholm standing on the church knoll talking with a group of young boys and girls. Thinking they might be able to give her some news of Glory Goldie, she had gone up to them to make inquiries.
The youths were evidently telling of some of their escapades, for all the men, at least, laughed uproariously. Katrina thought their behaviour very unseemly, considering they were on church ground. The men must have realized this themselves, for when she came up they nudged one another and hushed. She had caught only a few words, spoken by a youth whose back was turned to her, and who had not seen her.
“And to think that she was clothed in satin!” he said.
Instantly a young girl gave him a push that silenced him, then, glancing round, he saw Katrina just behind him and his face went red as blood; but immediately after he tossed his head, and said in a loud voice:
“What’s the matter with you? Why can’t I be allowed to say that the queen was arrayed in satin?”
When he said that the young people laughed louder than ever. Then Katrina went her way, unable to bring herself to question them. And when she came home she was so unhappy that Jan was almost tempted to come out with the truth about Glory Goldie; but on second thought, he asked her to tell him again what had been said about the queen.
Katrina did so, but added: “You understand of course that that was only said to sweeten the pill for me.”
Jan meanwhile kept mum. But he could not help smiling to himself.
“What are you thinking about?” asked Katrina. “You have such a queer look on your face these days. You don’t know what they meant, do you?”
“I certainly don’t,” answered Jan. “But we ought to have enough confidence in the little girl to think all is as it should be.”
“But I’m getting so anxious—”
“The time to speak,” Jan struck in, “has not come, either for them or me. Glory Goldie herself has probably requested them not to say anything to us. So we must rest easy, Katrina, indeed we must.”
Stars
When the little girl had been gone nearly eight months, who should come stalking into the barn at Falla one fine day, while Jan stood threshing there, but Mad Ingeborg!
Mad Ingeborg was first cousin to Jan. But as she was afraid of Katrina he seldom saw her. It was to escape meeting Jan’s wife that she had sought him out at Falla during his work hours.
Jan was none too pleased to see Ingeborg! She was not exactly insane, but flighty—and a terrible chatterer. He went right on with his work, taking no notice of her.
“Stop your threshing, Jan!” she said, “so that I can tell you what I dreamed about you last night.”
“You’d better come some other time, Ingeborg,” Jan suggested. “If Lars Gunnarson hears that I’m resting from my work he’ll be sure to come over to see what’s up.”
“I’ll be as quick as quick can be. If you remember, I was the brightest child in our family, which doesn’t give me much to brag about, as the rest of you were a dull lot.”
“You were going to tell me about a dream,” Jan reminded her.
“In a minute—a minute! You mustn’t be afraid. I understand—understand: hard master now at Falla—hard
