Now that much may have been true, perhaps; but that he ran away from home and was gone for long periods without letting anyone know his whereabouts—that was just something folks imagined, because 'twas always the wife who ruled at Mårbacka.
The children were very sorry to hear that their grandfather had been such a sober, serious, matter-of-fact person. And of course they had to believe what the old housekeeper told them.
Then, one evening, when their parents had gone to a party, the housemaid, who was to sit up for them, had persuaded Maja, the new nurse, who succeeded Back-Kaisa, to keep her company. They made a fire in the tile-stove of the nursery, drew up the children's little red chairs, and sat talking in whispers so as not to disturb the three little girls, who had gone to bed.
By and by the door creaked and in walked the old housekeeper. She had been wondering where the housemaid had betaken herself, and had been all through the house looking for her. She, too, drew up a chair. Anyway, she declared she'd not be able to sleep till she knew the master and mistress were safely home.
Now that the three of them were seated by the open fire so cosy and intimate-like, the two maids seized the opportunity to ask the old housekeeper's advice in a weighty matter.
"We were just saying, Lina and I, that we ought to