Part 54 (1/2)

Olof had taken off the outer wrappings. He lifted the little arms, held the boy upright, looking at him critically, like a doctor examining recruits. ”Long in the limbs--and sound enough, by the look of him!” Then he gazed earnestly into the child's face, with its wise, bright eyes, and seemed to find something there that promised well for the future.

”Dear little rascal!” he cried ecstatically, and tenderly he kissed the child's forehead. The boy made no sound, but seemed to be observing the pair.

Olof laid him down in the cradle. ”Can't he say anything? Can't you laugh, little son?”

He blinked his eyes, smacked his lips, and uttered a little whistling sound as if calling some shy bird--he had never seen anything like it; it seemed to come of itself.

”Laughing--he's laughing ... that's the way!”

Kyllikki was standing behind him, leaning against the sofa, watching them both.

”And his hands! St.u.r.dy hands to drain a mars.h.!.+ So mother was right, was she? Ey, such a little fist! A real marsh-mole!” And he kissed the tiny hands delightedly.

”But look at his nails--they want cutting already. Ah, yes, mother knew father would like to do it himself, so she did.”

And he hurried to Kyllikki's work-basket, and took out a small pair of scissors. ”Father'll manage it--come!”

And he fell on his knees beside the bed.

”Don't be afraid--softly, softly--there! Father's hands are none so hard, for all he's so big.” He cut the nails, kissing the little fingers in between. The boy laughed. Kyllikki leaned over towards them, smiling more warmly still.

”There--now it's done! Look at him, Kyllikki! Isn't he splendid?” And he turned towards her. ”But what--what am I thinking of all the time!

Kyllikki, I haven't even kissed you yet. Welcome, dear, welcome a thousand times!”

He took her in his arms. ”How well you look--and lovely! Why, you look younger than ever! Little mother--how shall I ever thank you for--this!”

”It was your gift to me,” said Kyllikki softly, with a tender glance at the little bed.

Olof led her to a seat, and they talked together in the silent speech of the eyes that is for great moments only.

”Why...!” Olof sprang up suddenly. ”I'm forgetting everything to-day.

Here I've made coffee all ready, and now....”

He lifted the coffee-pot and set it on the tray.

”Did you make the coffee?” asked Kyllikki, smiling in wonder.

”And who else should do it on such a day? Here!”

And they sat down to table, without a word.

Presently the child began to whimper. Both rose to their feet.

”What's the matter, then--did it hurt?” said Kyllikki tenderly. She lifted the little one in her arms, and began talking to him with her eyes, and smiling, with delicious little movements of her head.

The child began to laugh.