In a while, when Mother Martha had brought the coffee, he began to state his errand.

“I thought,” he said, and cleared his throat.  “I thought you had best be told what we intend to do with Brita.”  The cup which Mother Martha held in her hand shook a little, and the teaspoon rattled in the saucer.  Then there was a painful silence.  “We have been thinking that the best thing we could do would be to send her to America.”  He made another pause, only to be met by the same ominous silence.  He sighed at the thought of these unresponsive people.  “Her ticket has already been purchased.”

“She will come home first, of course,” said Ingmar.

“No; what would she be doing there?”

Again Ingmar was silent.  He sat with his eyes nearly closed, as if he were half asleep.

Then Mother Martha took a turn at asking questions.  “She’ll be needing clothes, won’t she?”

“All that has been attended to; there is a trunk, ready packed, at Loevberg’s place, where we always stop when we come to town.”

“Her mother will be there to meet her, I suppose?”

“Well, no.  She would like to, but I think it best that they be spared a meeting.”

“Maybe so.”

“The ticket and some money are waiting for her at Loevberg’s, so that she will have everything she needs.  I felt that Ingmar ought to know of it, so he won’t have this burden on his mind any longer,” said the senator.

Then Mother Martha kept still, too.  Her headkerchief had slipped back, and she sat gazing down at her apron.

“Ingmar should be looking about for a new wife.”

Both mother and son persistently held their peace.

“Mother Martha needs a helper in this big household.  Ingmar should see to it that she has some comfort in her old age.”  The senator paused a moment, wondering if they could have heard what he said.  “My wife and I wanted to make everything right again,” he declared finally.

In the meantime, a sense of great relief had come to Ingmar.  Brita was going to America, and he would not have to marry her.  After all a murderess was not to become the mistress of the old Ingmar home.  He had kept still, thinking it was not the thing to show at once how pleased he was, but now he began to feel that it would be only right and proper for him to say something.

The senator quietly bided his time.  He knew that he had to give these old-fashioned people time to consider.  Presently Ingmar’s mother said: 

“Brita has paid her penalty; now it’s our turn.”  By this the old woman meant that if the senator wanted any help from the Ingmarssons, in return for his having smoothed the way for them, they would not withhold it.  But Ingmar interpreted her utterance differently.  He gave a start, as if suddenly awakened from sleep.  “What would father say of this?” he wondered.  “If I were to lay the whole matter before him, what would he be likely to say?  ’You must not think that you can make a mockery of God’s judgment,’ he would say.  ’And don’t imagine that He will let it go unpunished if you allow Brita to shoulder all the blame.  If her father wants to cast her off just to get into your good graces, so that he can borrow money from you, you must nevertheless follow God’s leading, little Ingmar Ingmarsson.’