daughter, so felt rather light of heart at being so well received.

In a while, when Mother Martha had brought the coffee, he began to
state his errand.

"I thought," he said, and cleared his throat. "I thought you had
best be told what we intend to do with Brita." The cup which Mother
Martha held in her hand shook a little, and the teaspoon rattled in
the saucer. Then there was a painful silence. "We have been
thinking that the best thing we could do would be to send her to
America." He made another pause, only to be met by the same ominous
silence. He sighed at the thought of these unresponsive people.
"Her ticket has already been purchased."

"She will come home first, of course," said Ingmar.

"No; what would she be doing there?"

Again Ingmar was silent. He sat with his eyes nearly closed, as if
he were half asleep.

Then Mother Martha took a turn at asking questions. "She'll be
needing clothes, won't she?"

"All that has been attended to; there is a trunk, ready packed, at
Lövberg's place, where we always stop when we come to town."

"Her mother will be there to meet her, I suppose?"

"Well, no. She would like to, but I think it best that they be