and a stiff, high-crowned leather cap.

"Some words are too heavy for utterance," she said with great
gravity. "Answer me with just a nod, Jan, if you will. Can I give
these to Lars Gunnarson?"

Jan drew back a step. This was a matter he had entirely dismissed
from his mind. It seemed such a long time since Eric of Falla died
he hardly remembered how it happened.

"You understand, Jan, that all I want to know is whether Lars can
accept the stick and cap with the same right as Eric. You must
know, as you were with him that time in the forest. It would be
well for me," she added, as Jan did not speak, "if I could give
them to Lars. I believe there would be less friction afterward
between the young folks and me."

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!"