"H'm. You know well enough 'twas always meant that you were to take over the place—I'm not the sort to be master myself. Look after the men at their work—yes. But run the place by myself…."
"You'll soon get into the way of it," said Olof encouragingly. "And as to the men—I've an idea a farm's the better for a master that works with his men as you've always done, instead of going about talking big and doing nothing."
The elder brother cleared his throat again, and sat staring before him, drumming with his fingers on the edge of the chair.
"And what about you?" he asked, after a while.
"Oh, I'll look after myself all right. Build a bit of a house, and maybe turn up a patch of ground or so."
"Build a house…?" repeated the other in surprise.
"Yes. You see, brother, each goes his own way," went on Olof heavily. "And I've a sort of feeling now that I can't live on anything out of the past. I must try and build up a life for myself, all anew. If I can do that, perhaps I may be able to go on living."
The elder brother stared with wide eyes, as if listening to words in a strange tongue. Then he began drumming with his fingers again.
"H'm. I don't know quite what you mean, but it's no business of mine, anyway." He spoke with a touch of respect in his voice, as if to a superior. "We'll have to do as you say. But do you think Koskela will be the same with none but me to look to it all?"
"Surely it will!" said Olof warmly.