One evening, when Glory Goldie had been gone about a month, August
Där Nol came down to the Ashdales. August and Glory had been
comrades at the Östanby school and had been confirmed the same
summer.
A fine, manly lad was August Där Nol, and a favourite with every
one. His parents were people of means and no one had a brighter or
more assured future to look forward to than had he. Having been
absent from home for six months, he had only learned on his return
that Glory Goldie had gone away in order to earn money to save her
old home. It was his mother who told him of this, and before she
had finished talking he snatched up his cap and rushed out, never
pausing until he had reached the gate at Ruffluck Croft; there he
stopped and looked toward the hut.
Katrina saw August standing there and made a pretext of going to
the well for water in order to speak to him; but the lad did not
appear to see her, so Katrina immediately went back into the house.
Then in a little while Jan came down from the forest with an armful
of wood, and when August saw him coming he stepped to one side
until he, too, had gone in; then he went back to the gate.
Presently the window of the hut swung open, disclosing Jan seated
at one side of the window-table smoking his pipe, and Katrina at
the other side, knitting.
"Well, Katrina dear," said Jan, "now we're having a real cosy
evening. There's only one thing I wish for."
"I wish for a hundred things!" sighed Katrina, "and if I could
have them all I'd still be unsatisfied."
"But I only wish the seine-maker, or somebody else who can read,
would drop in and read us Glory Goldie's letter."
"You've had that letter read to you so many times since you got it
that you ought to know it by heart."
"That may be true enough," returned Jan, "but still it always does
me good to hear it read, for then I feel as though the little girl
herself were standing and talking to me, and I seem to see her eyes
beam on me as I listen to her words."
"I wouldn't mind hearing it again, myself," said Katrina, glancing
out through the open window. "But on a fine light evening like this
we can't expect folks to come to our hut."
"It would be better to me than the taste of white bread with coffee
to hear Glory Goldie's letter read while I'm sitting here smoking,"
declared Jan, "but I'm sure every one in the Ashdales has grown
tired of being asked to read the letter over and over, and now I
don't know who to turn to."
The words were hardly out of his mouth, when the door opened, and
in walked August Där Nol. Jan started in surprise.
"Bless me! Here you come, my dear August, just when wanted." After
Jan had shaken hands with the caller and pulled up a chair for him
he said: "I've got a letter I'd like you to read to us. It's from
an old schoolmate of yours. Maybe you'd be interested to hear how
she's getting on?"
August Där Nol took the letter and read it aloud, lingering over
each word as if drinking it in. When he had finished, Jan remarked:
"How wonderfully well you read, my dear August! I've never heard
Goldie's words sound as beautiful as from your lips. Would you do
me the favour to read the letter once more?"
Then the boy read the letter for the second time, with the same
deep feeling. It was as if he had come with a thirst-parched throat
to a spring of pure water. When he had read to the end he carefully
folded the letter and smoothed it over with his hand. As he was
about to return it to Jan, it occurred to him the letter had not
been properly folded and he must do it over. That done, he sat very
silent. Jan tried to start a conversation, but failed. Finally the
boy rose to go.
"It's so nice to get a little help sometimes," said Jan. "Now I
have another favour to ask of you. We don't know just what to do
with Glory Goldie's kitten. It will have to be put out of the way,
I suppose, as we can't afford to keep it; but I can't bear the
thought of that, nor has Katrina the heart to drown it. We've
talked of asking some stranger to take it."
August Där Nol stammered a few words, which could scarcely be
heard.
"You can put the kitten in a basket, Katrina," Jan said to his
wife, "then August will take it along, so that we'll not have to
see it again."
Katrina then picked up a little kitten that lay asleep on the bed,
placed it in an old basket around which she wrapped a cloth, and
then turned it over to the boy.
"I'm glad to be rid of this kitten," said Jan. "It's wee happy and
Playful--too much like Glory Goldie herself. It's best to have it
out of the way."
Young Där Nol, without a word, went toward the door; but suddenly
he turned back, took Jan's hand, and pressed it.
"Thanks!" he said in a choked voice. "You have given me more than
you yourself know."
"Don't imagine it, my dear August Där Nol!" Jan said to himself
when the boy had gone. "This is something I understand about. I
know what I've given you, and I know who has taught me to know."