from his cottage. Before his arrival, the little girls had spent a good
deal of time with me, but now they no longer knew I existed, so taken up
with their father were they. He hung a swing for them between the two
rowan trees in the field, taking care to pack plenty of rag under the rope
so as not to injure the tree.

He also had a talk with Paul; there were rumors that he was intending to
take his money out of the Tore Peak resort. Paul's head was bent now, but
he seemed even more hurt that the manufacturer should have paid a visit to
the cotters to see how they were getting on.

"So that's where he's gone?" he said. "Well, let him stay there, for all I
care!"

The manufacturer cracked jokes to the very end. Of course he was a little
depressed by the farewells, too, but he had to keep his family's courage
up. His wife stood holding one of his arms with both hands, and the
children clung to his other arm.

"I can't salute you," the manufacturer said to us, smiling. "I'm not
allowed to say good-bye."

The children rejoiced at this and cried, "No, he can't have his arm back;
Mummy, you hold him tight, too!"

"Come, come!" the father said. "I've got to go to Scotland, just a short
trip. And when you come home from the mountains, I'll be there, too."

"Scotland? What are you going to Scotland for?" the children asked.