"Will you be my wife?"
"I will, Pekka."
Overjoyed, Pekka almost hugged the wooden box that brought him such glad tidings.
"When may I come to see you, darling—my little wife?"
"Come, Pekka—come for dinner at three o'clock."
A few more sweet nothings, and, quite enraptured, he returned to his dull office routine. At three o'clock, spick and span, with a golden ring in his pocket, he presented himself at the house of the Heikkiläs.
In the salon stood the mother. He went towards her to receive her motherly congratulations. She rushed forward to meet him, as all good mothers-in-law should, and, throwing herself into his arms, she cried—
"Take me, Pekka, dearest Pekka; I am yours till death."
"Mine?"
"Yes. I have loved you long, darling Pekka, and I am ready whenever you can fix a day for our marriage!"