“Can’t you get her to go, Morten?” whispered the mother. “You are the only one she will listen to.”
Morten lectured the old woman until he had enticed her away; he had to promise to go with her and arrange the bedclothes over her feet.
“Now, thank goodness, we’ve got her out of the way!” said the mother, relieved. “I’m always so afraid that father might forget what he’s doing when he’s like he is now; and she doesn’t think of giving in to him, so it’s flint against flint. But now I think you ought to go where the rest of the young folks are, instead of sitting here and hanging your heads.”
“We’ll stay and see whether father comes,” declared Morten.
“But what does it matter to you—you can say good-day to father at any time. Go now—listen—father prefers to find me alone when he’s like this and comes home merry. Perhaps he takes me in his arms and swings me round—he’s so strong—so that I feel as giddy as a young girl. ‘Ho, heigh, wench, here’s the “Great Power”!’ he says, and he laughs as loud as he used to in his rowdy young days. Yes, when he’s got just enough in him he gets as strong and jolly as ever he was in his very best days. I’m glad it’s soon over. But that’s not for you —you had better go.” She looked at them appealingly, and shrank back as some one fumbled at the door. Out-of-doors it was terrible weather.
It was only the youngest, who had come home from her day’s work. She might have been ten or twelve years old and was small for her age, although she looked older; her voice was harsh and strident, and her little body seemed coarsened and worn with work. There was not a spot about her that shed or reflected a single ray of light; she was like some subterranean creature that has strayed to the surface. She went silently across the room and let herself drop into her grandmother’s chair; she leaned over to one side as she sat, and now and again her features contracted.
“She’s got that mischief in her back,” said the mother, stroking her thin, unlovely hair. “She got it always carrying the doctor’s little boy—he’s so tall and so heavy. But as long as the doctor says nothing, it can’t be anything dangerous. Yes, you did really leave home too early, my child; but, after all, you get good food and you learn to be smart. And capable, that she is; she looks after the doctor’s three children all by herself! The eldest is her own age, but she has to dress and undress her. Such grand children, they don’t even learn how to do things for themselves!”
Pelle stared at her curiously. He himself had put up with a good deal, but to cripple himself by dragging children about, who were perhaps stronger than himself—no, no one need expect that of him! “Why do you carry the over-fed brat?” he asked.
“They must have some one to look after them,” said the mother, “and their mother, who’s the nearest to them, she doesn’t feel inclined to do it. And they pay her for it.”
“If it was me, I’d let the brat fall,” said Pelle boldly.