rned his back in fury and
disgust.

But the girl never flinched. Quietly she loosened the strings of her
petticoat....

"Enough!" The old man's voice was like a cry from the underworld.

Olof turned--the girl looked inquiringly at him.

"Go! Take her--be off with you both!" cried her father, beyond
himself. "Ay, you're hard," he went on, to the girl, "hard and
obstinate as the rest of our blood ever were, too hard for your
woman's clothes! And as for you, I hope you can keep a wife now you've
got her. Of all the cursed...."

The young pair flushed, but they stood still, unable to move.

"Get your things on," said the old man impatiently. "And you--sit
down."

A sudden wave of shame came over the girl; snatching up her clothes,
she fled into the next room.

The master of Moisio walked slowly to the window and sat down heavily,
a beaten man. Olof felt a thrill of pity for the old man.

They sat for a few moments in silence; then Kyllikki entered once
more, blushing still, glanced hastily at Olof, and sat down, watching
her father's face.

At last the old man turned. The scene had left its mark on him, but
there was dignity still in his glance as he looked Olof full in the
face.

"You've made yourself my son-in-law," he said, "though 'twas no
wish of mine it should be so. But we may as well start with a clear
understanding. 'Tis our way here to say what's to be said at once, or
give a blow where it's needed--and have done with it."

"'Tis no bad way," said Olof, hardly knowing what he was saying. "My
father's way was much the same."

There was a slight pause. "We've one or two things to talk over now,"
went on the old man. "I should like to hear, to begin with, what
you're thinking of doing. Wandering about as before, maybe?"

"No. I've done with that. I've settled down in my own place--I'm
building a house there," answered Olof.

"H'm. Building a house, are you? I could find you a house here, for
that matter. I dare say you know I've no son to come after me. And I'm
an old man now."

Olof looked wonderingly at him. "I understand now," he said slowly,
"what you meant before. And I thank you for your kindness. But it's
this way with me now--I can't live in another man's house; I must make
a place for myself, and work for myself. I was to have had the farm at
home, but I couldn't take it." "A farm?" cried the old man, rising to
his feet. "Where--where do you come from, then?"

"From Kylanpaa in Hirviy