who, like most persons that go from place to place and know many
people, was a ready talker. "Kaisa, you're a sensible person," said
Mother Martha, "and one can rely on you."

"Yes, indeed," said the other. "If I didn't know enough to keep mum
about most of the things I hear, there'd be some fine hair-pulling
matches, I'm thinking!"

"But sometimes you are altogether too close-mouthed, Kaisa."

The old woman looked up; the inference was quite plain to her.

"May the Lord forgive me!" she said tearfully, "but I talked to the
senator's wife at Bergskog when I should have come straight to
you."

"So you have been talking to the senator's wife!" And the emphasis
given to the last two words spoke volumes.

Ingmar had been startled from his sleep by the opening of the
outside door. No one had come in, apparently; still the door stood
ajar. He did not know whether it had sprung open or whether some
one had opened it. Too sleepy to get up, he settled back in bed.
And then he heard talking in the outer room.

"Now tell me, Kaisa, what makes you think that Brita doesn't care
for Ingmar."

"From the very start folks have been saying that her parents made
her take him," returned the old woman, evasively.