"But why not?" snapped the aunt. "Are you used to something better? I haven't any notion of making a change on your account."
"I think you had better let the child alone," interrupted the husband. "I don't want you to frighten her. She will get along well enough after a while."
Wiseli sat quietly while the rest finished their meal. Then the father said that Speck, the goat, was ailing at the barn, so he would go back. He put on his fur cap, took the lantern, and went out.
Wiseli watched her aunt brush the potato peelings from the table into the empty milk pan with her hands; then she wiped the table, after which the other things were soon washed and put away. When all was finished she said, "Now you have seen how I do up the supper work, Wiseli; you can do it hereafter."
When they came into the living room, Chappi was seated at the table with his number book and pencil, as if he intended writing his sums on the table; he now began to stare at Wiseli. She had picked up the stocking on the bench by the stove, but had not dared to go near the light on the table.
"You ought to be working examples yourself," he said to Wiseli; "you aren't the smartest one in school by any means."
Wiseli did not know what to say. She had not been in school that day, and did not know what examples had been given out. In fact, she seemed to be out of harmony with everything.
"If I have to do sums, you have to," continued Chappi.
Wiseli said nothing, and did not stir.
"All right," said Chappi, "I'll not do one single example more," and he threw down his pencil.