Part 53 (2/2)

”They'll be at the cross-roads now, at Vaarakorva ... might take that little stretch at a trot ... if only they don't drive too hard. Well, Kyllikki'll look to that herself....”

Again he felt that curious sense of lightness--as if all that weighed and burdened had melted away, leaving only a thin, slight sh.e.l.l, that would hardly keep to earth at all. He tramped up and down, looking out of the window every moment, not knowing what to do with himself.

”Now!” he cried, looking at the clock again. ”Ten minutes more and they should be here!”

He sprang to the fire and threw on an armful of fine dry wood.

”There! Now blaze up as hard as you like. Bright eyes and a warm heart to greet them!”

He went into the bedroom and brought out a tiny basket-work cradle, that he had made himself. The bedding was ready prepared, white sheets hung down over the side, and a red-patterned rug smiled warmly--at the head a soft pillow in a snow-white case.

”There!” He set the cradle before the fire, and drew up the sofa close by. ”He can lie there and we can sit here and look at him.”

And now that all was ready, a dizziness of joy came over him--it seemed too good to be true. He looked out through the window once more; went out on to the steps and gazed down the road. Looked and listened, came back into the room, and was on the point of starting out to meet them, but thought of the fire--no, he could not leave the house.

At last--the brown figure of a horse showed out from behind the trees at the turn of the road. And at the sight, his heart throbbed so violently that he could not move a step; he stood there, looking out through the window--at the horse and cart, at Kyllikki with her white kerchief, and at the bundle in her arms.

Now they were at the gate. Olof ran out bareheaded, das.h.i.+ng down the path.

”Welcome!” he shouted as he ran.

”Olof!” Kyllikki's voice was soft as ever, and her eyes gleamed tenderly.

”Give him to me!” cried Olof, stretching out his arms impatiently.

And Kyllikki smiled and handed him a tiny bundle wrapped in woollen rugs.

Olof's hands trembled as he felt the weight of it in his arms.

”Help her down, Antti; and come back a little later on--I won't ask you in--not just now,” he said confusedly to the driver.

The man laughed, and Kyllikki joined in.

But Olof took no heed--he was already on the way in with his burden. A few steps up the path he stopped, and lifted a corner of the wrappings with one hand. A tiny reddish face with two bright eyes looked up at him.

A tremor of delight thrilled him at the sight; he clasped the bundle closer to his breast, as if fearing to lose it. Hastily he covered up the little face once more, and hurried in.

Kyllikki watched him with beaming eyes. Following after, she stood in the doorway and looked round, with a little cry of surprise and pleasure, taking it all in at a glance--the genial welcome of the blazing fire, the tiny bed,--he had told her nothing of this,--the sofa close by, and the tray set out on the table, and coffee standing ready....

But Olof was bending over the cradle.

”These things--is it safe to undo them?” he asked, fumbling with safety-pins.

”Yes, that's all right,” laughed Kyllikki, loosening her own cloak.

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