She had tried to bring about some arrangement whereby Jan and she could stay on at the croft. If the daughter had only been willing to send them a little money—say about ten rix-dollars a month— they could have managed fairly well. But Glory would not hear of this; she had declared that not a penny would she give them unless Katrina went along with her.
Katrina knew of course it was not from meanness that Glory Goldie had said no to this. The girl had been to the trouble of fitting up a home for her parents and had looked forward to a time when she could prove to them how much she thought of them, and how hard she had worked for them, and now she wanted to have with her one parent, at least, to compensate her for all her bother. Jan had been uppermost in her thought when she was preparing the home, for she had been especially fond of her father in the old days. Now, however, she felt it would be impossible to have him with her.
Herein lay the whole difficulty: Glory Goldie had taken a violent dislike to her father. She could not abide him now. Never had he been allowed to talk with her of Portugallia or of her riches and power; why, she could hardly bear the sight of him decked out in his royal trumpery. All the same Jan was as pleased with her as ever he had been, and always wanted to be near her, though she only ran away from him. Katrina was sure that it was to escape seeing her crazy father that the girl had not remained at home longer than a week.
Presently Glory Goldie, too, came into the freight shed. She was not afraid of Sexton Blackie. Not she! She went right up to him and began to chat. She told him in the very first breath that she was returning to her own home and was taking her mother back with her.
Then Sexton Blackie naturally wanted to know how the father felt about this, and Glory Goldie informed him as calmly as though she were speaking of a stranger that she had arranged for her father to board with Lisa, the daughter-in-law of Ol' Bengtsa. Lisa had built her a fine new house after the old man's death, and she had a spare room that Jan could occupy.
Sexton Blackie had a countenance that revealed no more of his thought than he wanted to reveal. And now, as he listened to Glory Goldie, his face was quite impassive. Just the same Katrina knew what he, who was like a father to the whole parish, was thinking. "Why should an old man who has a wife and daughter living be obliged to live with strangers? Lisa is a good woman, but she can never have the patience with Jan that his own folks had." That was what he thought. And he was right about it, too!
Katrina suddenly looked down at her hands. After all, perhaps she was deceiving herself in laying the blame on them. The real reason for her desertion of Jan was this: the daughter had the stronger will and she seemed unable to oppose her.
All this time Glory Goldie stood talking to the sexton. Now she was telling him of their being compelled to steal away from home so that Jan should not know of their leaving.
This had been the most dreadful part of it to Katrina. Glory Goldie had sent Jan on an errand to the store away up in Bro parish and as soon as he was gone they had packed up their belongings and left. Katrina had felt like a criminal in sneaking away from the house in that way, but Glory Goldie had insisted it was the only thing to do. For had Jan known of where they were going he would have cast himself in front of the wagon, to be trampled and run over. And now, on his return, Lisa would be at the house to receive him and of course she would try her best to console him; but still it hurt to think of how hard he would take it when he learned that his daughter had left him.
Sexton Blackie had listened quietly to Glory Goldie, without putting in a word. Katrina had begun to wonder whether he was pleased with what he had learned, when he suddenly took the girl's hand in his and said with great gravity: