Day after day Mor Elversson talked in the same strain. As soon as she and her husband were together, she would fall to praising Sven. "You don't understand him, Joel," she would say. "And his ways, and how he's different. But I'd have thought you might have seen it by the difference in me. Washing and doing my hair neat, and sweeping and scrubbing and cleaning about the place. You don't suppose it's for your sake I do it?" "Why," said Joel, "as for that, you've always been a great one for keeping things clean and neat beyond other folks." It was a way Joel had, of saying nice things to people whenever he could. "It's not only that," said his wife, "but it's changed me in other ways. I'm never angry about things now--I've turned soft as an eiderdown. Did you ever see a smile like Sven's? When other folks look kindly at me, I'm glad enough, but when Sven looks at me that smiling way of his, I just feel I could fling myself naked into the sea if he said the word." Joel laughed. "I don't see there'd be any great gain in that if he did," he said. "But there's something in what you say there. To my mind, the boy's like one of the stones that lie down on the shore, and always being rolled about by the waves. He's got worn and smooth from all the hard knocks he's got, till there's not a sharp edge nor a corner anywhere." Truth to tell, Joel, was at least as interested in his son as was his wife. But, pleased though he was with the lad, he could not but be anxious about him. It seemed as if he were resigned now, to submit to the judgment that had been passed upon him, and keep away from his kind for ever. There seemed little chance of his leaving the island. But even there, he would not be cut off from all communication with his fellows, unless he wished it so. Joel had been clerk to the magistrate's court for thirty years past, and in the course of that time had gained much knowledge of laws and regulations. In consequence, his help was often sought by neighbours wishing to make a will, draw up a contract, or arrange some similar matter in proper order. But when such visitors appeared, Sven Elversson never came in for a word with them. On the contrary, he would go off to the farthest part of the island as soon as a boat came in sight. "Well, what's he to do?" said Mor Elversson, when her husband spoke of his anxiety. "To begin with, he's almost forgotten to speak his own tongue in all these years, and it's only just beginning to come back to him. And when folk themselves turn shy of him as if he was a monster, what's he to do?" Joel threw back his head, drew in his breath audibly, and uttered words that his wife found it hard to understand. "If I'd been born to be a musician," he said, "I doubt but I'd manage to find me something to play on." "Well, and what then?" said his wife. "What do you mean by that?"