"Because mamma says I must find some one else to play with," Harald
explained. Then he softened a little: "I can't help it, and I like you."

"But why," insisted Keith on the verge of tears.

"You look like a nice boy, mamma says, but your father is nothing but a
_vaktmästare_, and mine is a _grosshandlare_ (wholesale dealer)."

Keith walked home in a stupor and began to cry the moment he saw his
mother. Her lips tightened and her face grew white as she listened to
the story he sobbed forth.

"Now you can see that your father was right," she said at last. "Of
course, we are just as good as anybody else, but others don't think
so--because we are poor. But we have our pride, and you had better stay
and play with your own soldiers hereafter. Then I don't have to worry
about you either."

But Keith had very little pride. He continued to seek Harald's company
as before, and twice, as they about to part in front of the latter's
house, Keith asked if he couldn't come up and play for a little while.

"Don't you understand," Harald asked the second time, "that my mamma
does not think you good enough for me to play with?"

Keith had not thought of it in that way. He had learned that there were
people who looked down on his parents, just as they, in their turn,
looked down on the parents of Johan, but the idea that he himself might
be regarded equally inferior was entirely new to him. It was so strange