When that thought came to him, he took his hands from before his
eyes and tried to put on a bold face.

"If you're ever again allowed inside your own house, my good Jan
Anderson, you mustn't so much as glance toward the young one, but
march yourself straight over to the fireplace and sit down, without
saying a word. Or, suppose you get right up and walk away! You
don't have to sit here any longer now that you know it's over with.
Suppose you show Katrina and the rest of the womenfolk that you're
not a man to be trifled with. ... "

He was just on the point of rising, when the mistress of Falla
appeared in the doorway of the woodshed, and, with a charming
curtsy, bade him come inside to have a peep at the infant.

Had it been any one else than the mistress of Falla herself that
had invited him in, it is doubtful whether he would have gone at
all, angry as he was. Her he had to follow, of course, but he took
his own time about it. He tried to assume the air and bearing of
Eric of Falla, when the latter strode across the floor of the town
hall to deposit his vote in the ballot-box, and succeeded
remarkably well in looking quite as solemn and important.

"Please walk in," said the mistress of Falla, opening the door
for him, then stepping aside to let him go first.

One glance at the room told him that everything had been cleaned
and tidied up in there. The coffeepot, newly polished and full and
steaming, stood at the edge of the hearth, to cool; the table, over