"But you mustn't stay here, dear," said the woman hastily, and led the boy away. "Go into the next room a little—mother's coming soon."
The child obeyed without a word, but in the doorway he turned, and again looked wonderingly at his mother and the strange man….
* * * * *
Olof was gone; the young mistress of Inkala sat alone in her room.
Thinking it over now, it seemed like a dream. Was it indeed Olof she had seen? Or had she been dreaming in broad daylight?
It had seemed natural enough at first. Both were surprised, of course, at the unexpected meeting, but soon they had found themselves talking calmly enough.
But the entry of the child had brought a touch of something strange and unspeakable—it seemed to change them all at once to another footing, bringing up a reckoning out of the past.
True, she had wondered now and again if fate would ever bring her face to face with Olof again—if he would ever see the child. But she had put the thought aside as painful to dwell upon.
And now, here they were, those two; no stranger but would at once have taken them for father and son, though in truth there was no kinship between them.
It was as if she were suddenly called upon to answer for her life.