“I know it will be a boy—­and I can feel in my blood that he will be just the son to work with his father as you said.

“And then about his room—­you take my breath away!  I can see you are making preparations as if for a queen and an heir to the throne.  I ought to tell you to undo it all again; but who could ever tell anyone to undo what was done in love—­for it was for love you did it, not for show.

“So you are already fighting for your draining project; it is just as well, it will be worth the more.  Anyhow, I know you will win.  Fight as hard as you like, fight for me and for him.  It is only a pity he can’t set to work at once and help you.

“We too are longing to be home again.  And perhaps it will not be so long now.  But if it has to be, I can be patient as long as I must.  We are better than ever now.  Do you know, I am so happy these days I have taken to singing, just as I used to do when I was a girl.  What do you say to that?  Suppose he were to have a voice, and sing in the choir, and leave you to work at your drainage all by yourself!

“My love, my love, I kiss you right in your heart.  The warmest love from us both—­I know you will be writing to us soon.

“KYLLIKKI (waiting to be a mother).”

“His BIRTHPLACE, 10th Sept., 11 a.m.

“FATHER!—­Yes, that is what you are now.  I can see your eyes light up.  And a son, of course.  At six o’clock this morning.  All well, both going on finely; he is simply a picture of health, big and strong and full of life.  And such a voice!  If you want a man to shout out orders to the workmen....  I haven’t looked at him properly yet.  He is lying here just beside me; I can see his hand sticking out between the clothes.  A fine little hand, not just fat and soft and flabby, but big and strong—­his father’s hand.  The very hand to drain a marsh, you wait and see.  And his soul—­ah, you should see his eyes!  His father’s eyes.  Now they won’t let me write any more.  I will tell you more next time.  I have sent him a kiss with my eyes, from you—­and there is a kiss for you in my thoughts.

“KYLLIKKI (the happy mother).”

THE HOMECOMING

The autumn sun was setting; it smiled upon the meadows, gleamed in the window-panes, and threw a kindly glow upon the distant forest.  The air was cool.

Olof was in a strange mood to-day.  He walked with light, springy step, and could not keep still for a moment; he was uneasy, and yet glad.  He had sent a man to the station with a horse, and the little servant-maid had been dispatched on an errand to a distant village—­he wished to be alone.

He stepped hastily into the bedroom, gave a searching glance round, looked at the thermometer on the wall, and laughed.

“Aha—­beginning to look all right now.”

Then he went back to the sitting-room.  The coffee-pot was simmering its quiet, cheerful song on the fire; close by lay a goodly heap of white pine logs.