merica."

"I'm going to tell you something," said Ingmar, with a mysterious
smile. "You needn't be the least bit afraid, for there is some one
who will help us."

"Who is it?"

"It's father. He'll see to it that everything comes out right."

There was some one coming along the forest road. It was Kaisa. But
as she was not bearing the familiar yoke, with the baskets, they
hardly knew her at first.

"Good-day to you!" greeted Ingmar and Brita, and the old woman came
up and shook hands with them.

"Well, I declare, here you sit, and all the folks from the farm out
looking for you! You were in such a hurry to get out of church,"
the old woman went on, "that I never got to meet you at all. So I
went down to the farm to pay my respects to Brita. When I got there
who should I see but the Dean, and he was in the house calling
Mother Martha at the top of his lungs before I even had a chance to
say 'how d'ye do.' And before he had so much as shaken hands with
her, he was crying out: 'Now, Mother Martha, you can be proud of
Ingmar! It's plain now that he belongs to the old stock; so we must
begin to call him _Big_ Ingmar.'

"Mother Martha, as you know, never says very much; she just stood
there tying knots in her shawl. 'What's this you're telling me?'
she said finally. 'He has brought Brita home,' the Dean explained,
'and, believe me, Mother Martha, he will be honoured and respected
for it as long as he lives.' 'You don't tell me,' said the old
lady. 'I could hardly go on with the service when I saw them
sitting in church; it was a better sermon than any I could ever
preach. Ingmar will be a credit to us all, as his father before him
was.' 'The Dean brings us great news,' said Mother Martha. 'Isn't
he home yet?" asked the Dean. 'No, he is not at home; but they may
have stopped at Bergskog first.'"

"Did mother really say that?" cried Ingmar.

"Why, of course she did; and while we sat waiting for you to
appear, she sent out one messenger after the other to look for
you."

Kaisa kept up a steady stream of talk, but Ingmar no longer heard
what she said. His thoughts were far away. "I come into the living-room,
where father sits with all the old Ingmars. 'Good-day to you, Big
Ingmar Ingmarsson,' says father, rising and coming toward me. 'The
same to you, father,' says I, 'and thank you for your help.' 'Now
you'll be well married,' says father, 'and then the other matters
will all right themselves.' 'But, father, it cou