“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.

Without a word, she laid him in Olof’s arms.  He thanked her with a look, and held the boy close to his breast.  All else seemed to have vanished but this one thing.  And he felt the warmth of the little body gradually spreading through clothes and wrappings to his own ... it was like a gentle, soft caress.  It thrilled him—­and the arms that held the little burden trembled; he could not speak, but handed it back in silence to the mother.

She laid it in the cradle, set the pillow aright, and pulled up the coverlet, leaving only a little face showing above.

“It is a great trust, to be given such a little life to care for,” said Olof, with a quiver in his voice, as they sat down on the sofa.  “It seems too great a thing to be possible, somehow.”

“But it is,” said Kyllikki.  “And do you know what I think?  That forgiveness is a greater thing than punishment—­and Life knows it!”

He nodded, and pressed her hand.

Again he glanced at the little red face on the pillow, and an expression of earnestness, almost of gloom, came over his own.

“Olof,” said Kyllikki softly, taking his hand, “will you tell me what you are thinking of just now?”

He did not answer at once.

“No, no—­you need not tell me.  I know.  But why think of that now, Olof?  And you know—­he at least, has a father and mother who have learned something of life; maybe he will not need to go through all we have done to get so far....”

“Ay, that was what I was thinking,” said Olof.