Grandmother Ingeborg was nodding in her big chair in the chimney corner, but the soft footsteps aroused her, and, looking up, she said:
"Oh! tak fur sidst[A] good Peder. Hi, though! What is that you bring with you?"
[A] Thanks for seeing you again.
Before she could be answered, the children, whose first nap was nearly over, awoke and saw their father with the little girl clinging to his hand, and looking shyly at them from his sheltering arm.
"Oh!" cried Olga, "a little sister! My wish has come true!"—and she ran to the new-comer and gave her sweet kisses of welcome; at which father Peder said, "That is my own good Olga."
But grandmother Ingeborg, who had put on her spectacles, said:
"Ah! I see now! A good-for-nothing Lapp child! She shall not stay here, surely!"
"Listen," said Peder Olsen, "and I will tell you why I brought home the little Hansa, for that is her name,"—and he told the story of the father's drinking so much finkel, and offering to give his little girl for a pipe, and how he himself had purchased her. "But see!" added the worthy Peder, turning toward Hansa, "you are not bound but for as long as the heart says stay."
Hansa looked about, and, meeting Olga's sweet, entreating glance, said, "I will stay ever."
Then Olga cried, joyously, "Now, indeed, have I a sister!" and took her to her own little bed, where soon they both were sleeping, side by side.