wanted to see," said the little man stubbornly, with childish
insistence, and clung to his mother.

Olof looked at the child as at a vision.

The woman stood, pale and confused, holding the boy by the hand.

"Come along, then, and say good-day," she stammered at last, hardly
knowing what she did.

The boy came forward, and stood holding Olof's knees, looking up into
his face.

Child and man gazed at each other without a word or movement, as if
each were seeking for some explanation.

"I haven't seen you before," said the child at last. "Do you live a
long way away?"

Olof felt himself trembling. The child's first words had set his heart
beating wildly.

"But you mustn't stay here, dear," said the woman hastily, and led the
boy away. "Go into the next room a little--mother's coming soon."

The child obeyed without a word, but in the doorway he turned, and
again looked wonderingly at his mother and the strange man....

* * * * *

Olof was gone; the young mistress of Inkala sat alone in her room.

Thinking it over now, it seemed like a dream. Was it indeed Olof she
had seen? Or had she been dreaming in broad daylight?

It had seemed natural enough at first. Both were surprised, of course,
at the unexpected meeting, but soon they had found themselves talking
calmly enough.

But the entry of the child had brought a touch of something strange
and unspeakable--it seemed to change them all at once to another
footing, bringing up a reckoning out of the past.

True, she had wondered now and again if fate would ever bring her face
to face with Olof again--if he would ever see the child. But she had
put the thought aside as painful to dwell upon.

And now, here they were, those two; no stranger but would at once have
taken them for father and son, though in truth there was no kinship
between them.

It was as if she were suddenly called upon to answer for her life.

First it was her son that questioned her, standing in the doorway,
looking at both with his innocent eyes.

And then--a triple reckoning--to Olof, to her husband, and to God.

Until that day, her secret had been known to none but God and herself.
And now--he knew it, he, the one she had resolved should never know.

And the third stood there too, like one insistent question, waiting to
know....

"Daisy....?"

She would have told him, frankly and openly, as she herself understood
it. How she had longed for him an