"Oh, she worked, I suppose."

There was evidently nothing more to be had in that direction.

"And what did she do in Stockholm," Keith pushed on.

"She married your grandfather, as I told you, and then I was born."

"What was he?"

The mother remained silent for a good long while, and Keith repeated his
question, not yet having learned that unanswered questions generally
are unwelcome questions.

"He was a _vaktmästare_," she said finally, and Keith knew that, for
some reason, she found the word unpleasant.

The boy reflected a while before he observed:

"That's what papa is."

"Your father's position is quite different," his mother rejoined
sharply. "It's a shame that he and his comrades in the bank have no
other title--although some of them deserve nothing better."

"What should they be called?"

"I don't know exactly--collectors, I think, because they go around and
collect the money that is due to the bank."