The child sprang to her feet when presently she heard the door opened. Andrew the carpenter stood before her with happy eyes, and with a look that Wiseli had never seen on his face. He sunk into a chair. He was overcome, but not with fatigue. At last he cried out, in a triumphant tone,—
"It is true, Wiseli! It is all really true! All the gentlemen said 'Yes,'—every one. You belong to me. I am your father. Call me 'father,' Wiseli."
Wiseli became white as a sheet. She stood staring at Andrew, but did not speak nor move.
"Oh! of course, of course," said the carpenter. "You can't understand me, I tell you all so confusedly. Now I will begin at the beginning. I have just written in the record book in the town, and you are my child now, and I am your father; and you will always stay here with me, and not go back to your cousin Gotti again. This is your home,—here with me."
Wiseli understood now. She sprang into Andrew's arms, clung round his neck, and cried, "Father, father!" They neither could speak a word after this for a long time,—too many things were crowding upon them. After a little, Wiseli felt a sudden light that seemed to break in upon her thoughts; and she exclaimed, looking up at Andrew,—
"O father! I know how it has all happened, and who has helped us."
"Who may it be, Wiseli?" asked Andrew.
"My mother."
"Your mother, child,—who do you mean? Your mother?"
And Wiseli related her dream about the beautiful garden with the red carnations, and a rose-bush on the other side, where the sun shone; and told him how her mother had taken her by the hand and showed her the garden, and said that her way led through that. And Wiseli was sure that her mother had not ceased to pray God to let her child's way be through that garden,—which was Andrew's garden, and the happiest place in the world for Wiseli.