AC dBooks

And so great was the
eagerness of the old people to hear the last news of the son who was the
apple of their eye that I had to stay to breakfast and tell them all
about our meeting.
While Martin's mother laid the tables with oat-cake and honey and bowls
of milk and deep plates for the porridge, I told the little there was to
tell, and then listened to their simple comments.
"There now, doctor! Think of that! Those two meeting in foreign parts
that used to be such friends when they were children! Like brother and
sister, you might say. And whiles and whiles we were thinking that some
day . . . but we'll say no more about that now, doctor."
"No, we'll say no more about that now, Christian Ann," said the doctor.
Then there was a moment of silence, and it was just as if they had been
rummaging among half-forgotten things in a dark corner of their house,
and had come upon a cradle, and the child that had lived in it was dead.
It was sweet, but it was also painful to stay long in that house of
love, and as soon as I had eaten my oat-cake and honey I got up to go.


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