I listened to these plans, waiting until they came to me. When Aunt Catherine ceased speaking, and I had not been mentioned, I said, "And me?..."
"Why, you don't belong to the family."
"I'll work for you."
"You're not one of the family."
"Ask Alexix and Benny if I can't work, and I like work."
"And soup, also, eh?"
"But he's one of the family; yes, aunt, he's one of the family," came from all sides.
Lise came forwards and clasped her hands before her aunt with an expression that said more than words.
"Poor mite," said Aunt Catherine, "I know you'd like him to come and live with us, but we can't always get what we want. You're my niece, and if my man makes a face when I take you home, all I've to tell him is that you're a relation, and I'm going to have you with me. It will be like that with your other uncles and aunts. They will take a relation, but not strangers."
I felt there was nothing to say. What she said was only too true. I was not one of the family. I could claim nothing, ask nothing; that would be begging. And yet I loved them all and they all loved me. Aunt Catherine sent us to bed, after telling us that we were to be parted the next day.