When Johannes and Marjon looked in through the window, Markus was sitting at the table. The housewife stood beside him, sleeves tucked up, carrying on her left arm a half-sleeping child, while with her right hand she was putting food upon his plate. A somewhat older child stood by his knee watching the steaming: food.
The mother's cheeks were pale and sunken, from sorrow, and her eyes were still full of tears.
"Nothing will come of it, after all," she said with a sigh. "If only he had been wiser! Those miserable roysterers have talked him into it. That's what comes of those meetings. If only he had stayed at home! The husband belongs at home.
"Do not be afraid, mother," said Markus. "He did what he sincerely thought was right. Who does that can always be at peace."
"Although he should starve?" asked the wife, bitterly.
"Yes, although he should starve. It is better to starve with a good conscience, than to live in comfort by fraud."
This silenced the woman for a time. Then she said, "If it were not for the children...." and the tears flowed faster.
"It is exactly on account of the children, mother. If the children are good, they will thank the father who is struggling for their sakes, even though he struggle in vain. And there is something for them still, else you would not have been able to give to me—the stranger."
Markus looked at her smilingly, and she smiled in return.
"You—you should have our last mouthful!" said she, heartily. Then, glancing toward the window, she added: "Who are those young scamps looking in? And a monkey with them!"