“Welcome, Olof,” she said, with frank kindness, though her voice trembled slightly.  “And is it really you?  Sit down.’”

But Olof stood still, unable to recover himself.

“I dare say you’re surprised to—­to find me here,” went on the woman, trying to speak easily and naturally, though her features and the look in her eyes revealed a certain emotion.  “I have been here for four years now.”  She stopped, and cast down her eyes in confusion.

“Really—­four years, is it as long as that...?” Olof stammered out the words awkwardly, and could say no more.

“But you’ve heard no news of me, I suppose, and my being here.  I knew a little about you, though—­that you had come back and were living near....”

“Yes, yes....  No, I had no idea ...  I came prepared to find only strangers, and then ... to meet you here ... so far from....”

“Yes, it is a long way from my home.”  The woman grasped eagerly at something to talk of.  “And it’s all so different here, though it’s not so far, after all, counting the miles.  It was very strange and new at first, of course, but now I like it well enough.  And we often go over to the old place, and father and mother come to see us here....”

“Yes, yes....  And how are they at home?  Your mother and father?” Olof asked, with a ring of pleasant recollection in his voice.

“Finely, thank you.  Father was bad for a time last winter, but he’s got over it now, or nearly....”

She broke off and glanced at the door.  It was thrust open a little, and a child’s head looked in.

She stepped hastily across the room.  “What do you want in here?  Can’t you see here are visitors—­and you with your dirty overall on?”

“I wanted to see,” said the little man stubbornly, with childish insistence, and clung to his mother.

Olof looked at the child as at a vision.

The woman stood, pale and confused, holding the boy by the hand.

“Come along, then, and say good-day,” she stammered at last, hardly knowing what she did.

The boy came forward, and stood holding Olof’s knees, looking up into his face.

Child and man gazed at each other without a word or movement, as if each were seeking for some explanation.

“I haven’t seen you before,” said the child at last.  “Do you live a long way away?”

Olof felt himself trembling.  The child’s first words had set his heart beating wildly.

“But you mustn’t stay here, dear,” said the woman hastily, and led the boy away.  “Go into the next room a little—­mother’s coming soon.”

The child obeyed without a word, but in the doorway he turned, and again looked wonderingly at his mother and the strange man....

* * * * *

Olof was gone; the young mistress of Inkala sat alone in her room.

Thinking it over now, it seemed like a dream.  Was it indeed Olof she had seen?  Or had she been dreaming in broad daylight?