"How can I go to church and how can I be seen among people when I'm
so poor I haven't even a hut to live in?"

Jan was thinking of something else. He called to mind all the
beautiful memories associated with the hut. It was here, near the
table, the midwife had laid the child in his arms. It was over
there, in the doorway, he had stood when the sun peeped out through
the clouds to name the little girl. The hut was one with himself;
with Katrina; with Glory Goldie. It could never be lost to them.

He saw Glory Goldie clench her fist, and felt that she would come
to their aid very soon.

Presently Lars Gunnarson and the shopkeeper's clerk got up and
moved toward the door. When they left they said "good-bye," but not
one of the three who remained in the hut rose or returned the
salutation.

The moment the men were gone the young girl, with a proud toss of
her head, sprang to her feet.

"If you would only let me go out in the world!" she said.

Katrina suddenly ceased mumbling and wringing her hands. Glory
Goldie's words had awakened in her a faint hope.

"It shouldn't be so very difficult to earn a couple of hundred
rix-dollars between now and the first of October," said the girl.
"This is only midsummer, so it's three whole months till then. If