Olof flushed angrily, and he would have spoken, but the noble dignity of his mother's glance checked the thought ere it was uttered.
"Go now," she said gently. "We will talk of this another time."
FATHER AND SON
The early meal was over, and the farm hands pressed out through the door.
"You, Olof, stay behind," said the master of Koskela from his seat at the head of the table. "I've a word to say to you."
Olof felt his cheeks tingling. He knew what his father had to say—he had been waiting for this.
The three were alone now—his mother stood by the stove. "Sit down," said the father coldly, from his place.
Olof obeyed. For a while nothing was heard but the slow beat of the clock on the wall.
"I know where your mother was last night. Are you not ashamed?"
Olof bowed his head.