"And how has my little baby been going on all day long? Lonely? What a shame! I'm sorry--very, very sorry," he would say.
And then Thora would answer, "Don't think of me, Oscar. You have your work to do, and I only wish I could help you, like Helga."
But in the long hours of loneliness, when her head was on her hands and her feet were in the fender, the poor little soul would sink and the tender heart grow bitter. Only Anna would be with her then, comforting and consoling her, and pretending to be blind to what every eye could see.
"Anna," she said at length, "when Magnus was here he asked me such a strange question."
"What was that, Thora?"
"He asked if I wasn't sorry that Helga had gone with us on our journey."
"And are you?"
"Sometimes--perhaps it is foolish--but sometimes I think I am."
"I know. I think I know. And it isn't foolish of you at all, dear. Oscar is doing wrong. I must speak to him--I must speak to him severely."
"It isn't Oscar's fault. Helga is so selfish."