and he started back, his face flaming, but she dashed out of the house and sped up the hills to take the road from the town home. There she laid the money on the bread griddle before her mother, and fell on her neck.
“Who gave you the money?” asked the mother, her anger already rising.
“It was Ödegaard, mother; he is the grandest man in the world.”
“What am I to do with it?”
“I am sure I do not know; but, oh, mother, if you only knew”—
She threw herself on her mother’s neck once more. Now she was not afraid; now she would confess all. But her mother shook her off impatiently.
“Would you have me accept alms? Take the money back to him at once! If you have made him believe I need help, you have lied.”
“But, mother”—
“Take the money back to him this instant, I say, or I will go to him myself and fling it at him, at him who has taken my child from me!”
The mother’s lips quivered after the last word. Petra drew back, growing paler and paler, softly opened the door and noiselessly left the house. Before she was aware of it the ten dollar note was torn to fragments in her
