Mrs. Olsen was not used to question her husband’s decisions. There seemed to be something rather mysterious about all this, but she was a placid soul who could wait in peace for the explanation that would doubtless be forthcoming. Anyway there was Papineau’s house about a mile away from the Falls, and the girl could find shelter there. She smiled at her guest pleasantly and urged her to eat more. For some minutes Madge’s appetite had forsaken her. But the temptation of good food in abundance overcame her alarm. She felt the comfort of a quiet, God-fearing, civil-spoken household. They were rough people, in their way, but they seemed so genuine, so friendly, so full of the desire to help her and put her at her ease, that she was 86 again reassured. Her hunger assailed her and she ate what she considered a huge breakfast, though Stefan Olsen’s family seemed to wonder at her scanty ability to dispose of the things they piled upon her plate. When large brown griddle-cakes were finally placed before her she could eat but a single one.
“Mebbe,” said the good woman, “in Nev York you ain’t used to tings like ve country people have.”
Used to them, forsooth! Indeed she had not been used to such things. She remembered the small bottles of bluish milk, the butter doled out in yellow lumps of strong taste, the couple of rolls that would make a meal, the cup of tea or coffee of pale hue, the bits of meat she could afford but once in several days. No, indeed she had not been used to such things, in the last two years.
“Vhen you stays in dis coontry for a vhiles den you can eat like a goot feller and not like a little bird,” Stefan assured her, comfortingly. “Den you get nice and fat, and red on de cheeks, and strong.”
Mrs. Olsen was still smiling at her, as she sat with plump hands folded on an ample stomach. The two children had become used to her and came near. A seat was given to her near the stove. Lack of sleep during the 87 two hard nights spent on the train caused her head to nod, once or twice.
“Mebbe you vants to rest a bit before ve goes,” suggested Stefan. “Dere’s plenty time if you like.”
But this roused her to alert attention. She must go, at once, for all this suspense and uncertainty must be ended. For some happy moments she had thought no more of the man who was expecting her. The comfort she had enjoyed had temporarily banished him from her thoughts.
“No––oh, no!” she cried. “I––I’ll be glad to leave as soon as you are ready to take me!”
At this moment she became keenly puzzled. She still had a very few dollars in her purse and wondered whether she ought to offer payment for her meal. Instinct wisely prompted her to keep the little pocketbook in her bag. They would undoubtedly have been surprised and perhaps offended.
Stefan drew on his great Dutch stockings and pulled his fur cap over his ears. An instant after he had left the room Madge heard loud barking. As she looked out of the window, scratching off a little of the frost that covered the panes, she saw the big Swede surrounded by five large dogs which he was hitching 88 to a toboggan. Then he got on the thing and the animals galloped away. A few minutes later he returned, with her small trunk lashed to the back part of the sled. He entered the house and took a straw-filled pillow and a huge bearskin and bore them out.