"Good day, sir," gulped Erik and promptly fell over a footstool.
His face turned scarlet. He felt ashamed. He was only an awkward country boy.
"Sit down, Erik," said his host kindly.
Erik sat down upon the edge of a chair and leaned forward eagerly.
"Oh, sir," he breathed, "are you going to help Fru Hansson?"
The banker began, "I should like to, Erik, very much—"
"He's going to help! He's going to help!" sang Erik inside.
"But—" Herr Banker's smile faded and Erik's song died, "but I'm afraid that I cannot." There was a moment's silence before Herr Banker went on. "Still," he said, "I can do something else for you, Erik. I am planning a little journey through Sweden. I am taking my family along. How would you like to go with us?"
Erik's eyes grew big. He had never been on a real journey. This trip to Stockholm had been his very first. He had never traveled before in his whole life. He forgot Hanssonborg. He forgot Greta and Nils and everything except this promise of a new adventure. It was too wonderful to be true. He had always hoped to see the beauties of his country, about which he had read so much.
"Oh, thank you, sir!" he cried.