"Shame--ay, 'twas shame I felt for you when you were born, old as I
was, and never thinking to have more. Mayhap 'twas a sign you'd bring
but shame to me after and all...." The words fell heavy as lead, and
brought him to his knees.

"Mother!" He could say no more, but hid his face in her lap, and cried
like a child.

A great warmth rose in the mother's breast and throbbed in her veins.

"Mother, I promise--you shall never go that way again for me. And ...
and...."

He broke off.

The warmth rose to her eyes, seeking an outlet there.

"And...?" she asked gently. "What then, my son?"

The young man's brow was deeply lined, as he strove to speak. Then
resolutely he looked up and said, "I will marry her."

"_Marry her_?" An icy wave came over her, and she gasped for breath.

"Olof," she went on in a trembling voice, "look at me. Have you--has
anything happened already?" Breathlessly she waited for his answer.

"No," said the boy, and looked her frankly in the eyes. "But I love
her."