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She placed the two children in front of him, and he looked up, blinking as if he had looked at the sun. It seemed as if his little, blurred eyes could not meet those of the children, which were big, clear and innocent. "Look at them, Ruster!" repeated Liljekrona's wife.
But it is not the end, Ruster." "Yes," sobbed the little flute-player. "Do you see that to sit as to-night with the children, that would be something for you? If you would teach children to read and write, you would be welcomed everywhere. That is no less important an instrument on which to play, Ruster, than flute and violin. Look at them, Ruster!"
The cook wept; the maids scolded. Finally Liljekrona remembered that no sheaves had been put out for the sparrows, and he complained aloud of all the women about him who abandoned old customs and were new-fangled and heartless. They understood well enough that what tormented him was remorse that he had let little Ruster go away from his home on Christmas Eve.
"You ought to have let him go immediately," said his wife; "now he will certainly take so long with that that we will be obliged to keep him over Christmas." "He must be somewhere," answered Liljekrona. And he offered Ruster toddy and brandy, sat with him, and lived over again with him the whole Ekeby time.
Liljekrona had been influenced by the general feeling, and therefore said quite lukewarmly and indifferently that Ruster had better stay where he was over Christmas. Little Ruster was inflammable and proud. He twirled his moustache and shook back the black artist's hair that stood like a dark cloud over his head. What did Liljekrona mean? Should he stay because he had nowhere else to go?
Life grew proud and beautiful when the richness of that one soul shone on it. Therefore they loved him as they loved Christmas time, pleasure, the spring sun. And when little Ruster came, their Christmas peace was destroyed. They had worked in vain if he was coming to tempt away their master.
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