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Updated: June 13, 2025
The dining-room, into which she led us for cake and tea, was almost comfortable. Its furniture, dark, serviceable oak, was a gift, Katrina told us, from her uncle. Twice as she served the tea she responded to a summons from the professor's study. Once he desired a handkerchief, and the second time he wished an important letter posted at once.
Instantly a young girl gave him a push that silenced him, then, glancing round, he saw Katrina just behind him and his face went red as blood; but immediately after he tossed his head, and said in a loud voice: "What's the matter with you? Why can't I be allowed to say that the queen was arrayed in satin?" When he said that the young people laughed louder than ever.
Katrina herself seemed uncertain as to whether this pilgrimage properly belonged in the field of pleasure or the stern path of duty; but Jessica and I classified it at once, and dropped an easy tear. We hoped her uncle was grim and stern, and did not give her enough to eat. This, we felt, would have made the melancholy picture of Katrina's condition most satisfyingly complete.
Katrina, Hersebom, the goodwife, was occupied peacefully with her spinning-wheel, while little Vanda, a blonde of ten years, was seated on a stool, knitting a large stocking with red wool. At their feet a large dog of a yellowish-white color, with wool as thick as that of a sheep, lay curled up sound asleep.
"It's all my fault that you are dying, and I'm to blame for father's death, too." Katrina, smiling all the while, moved her hands in a little caress. "You are so good, mother," said Glory Goldie through her sobs. "You are so good to me!" Katrina gripped hard her daughter's hand and raised herself in bed, to give her final testimony.
These were small faults of an otherwise beautiful nature, and stimulating to our youthful fancy in the possibilities they suggested. Unquestioningly we accepted Katrina as a being to be loved, pitied, and spared the ruder shocks of life.
Then his aunt had gone into the pantry and had brought out butter and bacon, had filled a little bag with barley, and another with flour, and had tied them all into a single parcel, which she had put into Jan's hand at parting. It was just a little something for Katrina, she had said. She should have some recompense for staying at home to look after the house.
And now, as I resumed my seat, I began puzzling my brain as to how I could get away without giving offence to the second member of my pair of blackmailers. But a little later I managed it, as it has been managed for centuries, by looking suddenly at my watch and recalling a forgotten appointment. "You will come again?" purred Katrina.
"Now you can have them for good and all," said Katrina. "There'll be no one to come and take them away from you, for Lars Gunnarson is dead." Katrina of Ruffluck Croft came into the kitchen at Lövdala Manor with some spun wool. Lady Liljecrona herself received the yarn, weighed it, paid for it, and commended the old woman for her excellent work.
It was all very well so long as they held themselves still. But what if one of them should suddenly stretch forth a hand and seize somebody? There was no special danger for grown-ups and old people; but Jan had always heard that the trolls had a great fondness for small children the smaller the better. It seemed to him that Katrina was holding the little girl very carelessly.
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