She turned away her head, and a faint color rose in her cheeks.[Pg 510]
“Such nice herrings for your breakfast!” she said.
It was part of her blessedness that she could think of things like that—safe and homely things. She was the innocent little handmaiden, destined to make a home for his stormy spirit. He caught both her hands.
“Look at me!” he commanded.
But she shook her head, confused and smiling.
“Ingeborg!” he began, but just then there came a stamping and a great voice calling out:
“Hey! You Ingeborg! I’m ready!”
She ran to the stove and looked into the coffeepot. Then she began to put the breakfast on the table, and Oscar and Gunnar sat down together.
“I’ll keep the room,” said Gunnar.
“That room’s for a married couple,” objected Oscar, “not for a young fellow like you.”