father
solemnly, as he kissed his daughter and bade her good-night.

CHAPTER XVI.

SPECTACLES.

The news of the disappearance of Frans had brought gloom to the golden
house. There he had been lovingly received, and had appeared at his
best. Nono was clear in his mind that Frans had had nothing to do with
the theft, however wrong he might have done in running away and causing
his friends such painful anxiety.

Jan shut his mouth firmly and went about in determined silence. Karin
cried as if it had been her own boy who had gone wrong.

"He hasn't had any mother to look after him," said Nono, and he patted
Karin tenderly. "If you could have had him it would have been quite
different, I am sure."

"That is a fact," said one of the twins.

"A solid fact!" echoed the other.

Karin smiled for a moment kindly, and then said soberly, "If only Uncle
Pelle were here! I should so like to know what he would say."

Old Pelle had gone on his pedestrian trip. Not that he had any
sportsman accoutrements, or used any slang as to the particulars of his
expedition. In one respect he was prepared for his excursion on the
strictest modern principles. He was lightly equipped as to clothing,
and in woollen garments from top to toe. Better still, he had a light
heart within, and a thankful one. He was out on a pleasant errand.

Pelle was now a settled resident in the parish where the golden cottage
stood, with occupation pledged to him while he had strength to work,
and a support as long as life lasted. The colonel had settled that
matter; and Karin rejoiced to see the shadows cleared from the old
man's future, with the bright prospect of his continuing to be "a
blessing" to them, as she said, "while he was above the green grass."

Pelle had left a few trifles at the poorhouse, where he had been
grudgingly received during his last long attack of serious illness. He
had before been unable to make up his mind to go after his small
belongings. There had been lingering in the depths of his heart a germ
of bitterness about the whole affair, and he had been afraid it might
spring into strong life if he returned to see the old place again. Now
the rankling, tormenting thoughts had vanished in the sunshine that had
come to him, and he was sure it would be pleasant to see the familiar
scenes again, and to take well-known people by the hand in a friendly
way, and let bygones be bygones.

Pelle had been rowed over to the