Nils Petter and Jantje had one great regret—they had no children. They had often talked of adopting one. The question cropped up again now. Jantje had heard that Skipper Olsen's widow had just died, leaving a four-year-old boy with no one to look after him but the parish; they decided, therefore, to take him and bring him up as their own. Jantje busied herself making preparations, and Nils Petter, disregarding Pedersen's insistence, flatly refused to be bothered with letters just now; he too had things to do about the house, getting ready for the boy.
The news soon spread that little Rasper Olsen was to be adopted by Nils Petter. Had ever a poor orphan such a stroke of luck! They called him the millionaire boy.
When at last Jantje came in, leading the little fellow by the hand, Nils Petter's delight knew no bounds; he laughed and sang, and lifted the pretty, chubby lad and held him out at arm's length.
The boy took to Jantje at once, and when he began to call her "Mama," she wept with joy, and had to run and find Nils Petter that he might hear it too. He tried to get the child to call him "Papa," but here he was disappointed; Rasper would not call him anything but "Nils Petter," as he had heard everybody else do.
The first night, one of the richest heirs in the country slept in a washing-basket, to the great delight of Nils Petter, who amused himself swinging basket and boy together over his head till the child fell asleep.
Nils Petter was getting altogether unreasonable, so at least his secretary thought. He declined altogether to go to the office now, and went out fishing in his boat instead. And Jantje put on her old house frock again and stood over wash-tub just as before.
"Extraordinary people," said Pedersen. "Really, it's a pity to see all this money thrown away on folk with no idea of how to use it."
And indeed Nils Petter and Jantje gradually were fast slipping back to their old way of life. All Pedersen's arguments and entreaties could not persuade them to move out to Sorgenfri and take up a position suited to their means. In vain the schoolmaster urged "the duties involved by possession of worldly wealth, responsibilities towards society in general," and so on; Nils Petter cared not a jot for anything of the sort; he was going to live his own way, and the rest could go hang.
One day Justice Heidt came round, and asked to speak to Nils Petter privately.
"There we are again," grumbled Nils Petter; "more about that wretched money, I'll be bound."