The children came running across the field. “Have you got anything for us to-day?” they cried from a long distance.
“Yes, but not until we get into the warmth. I daren’t unbutton my coat out here because of my cough.”
“Well, but you walk so slowly,” said Boy Comfort. “Is it because you’re so old?”
“Yes, that’s it,” answered the old man, laughing. “You must exercise a little patience.”
Patience, however, was a thing of which the children possessed little, and they seized hold of his coat and pulled him along. He was quite out of breath when they reached the house.
Ellen looked severely at the children, but said nothing. She helped Brun off with his coat and neckerchief, and after seeing him comfortably seated in the sitting-room, went out into the kitchen. Pelle guessed there was something she wanted to say to him, and followed her.
“Pelle,” she said gravely, “the children are much too free with Mr. Brun. I can’t think how you can let them do it.”
“Well, but he likes it, Ellen, or of course I should stop them. It’s just what he likes. And do you know what I think he would like still better? If you would ask him to live with us.”
“That I’ll never do!” declared Ellen decidedly. “It would look so extraordinary of me.”
“But if he wants a home, and likes us? He’s got no friends but us.”