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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Tales of Two Countries, by Alexander Kielland
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+Title: Tales of Two Countries
+
+Author: Alexander Kielland
+
+Release Date: August, 2005 [EBook #8663]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on July 30, 2003]
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+Edition: 10
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+Language: English
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+Character set encoding: ASCII
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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Nicole Apostola
+
+
+
+
+TALES OF TWO COUNTRIES
+BY ALEXANDER KIELLAND
+TRANSLATED FROM THE NORWEGIAN BY WILLIAM ARCHER
+WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY H. H. BOYESEN
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+PHARAOH
+THE PARSONAGE
+THE PEAT MOOR
+"HOPE'S CLAD IN APRIL GREEN"
+AT THE FAIR
+TWO FRIENDS
+A GOOD CONSCIENCE
+ROMANCE AND REALITY
+WITHERED LEAVES
+THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTION.
+
+In June, 1867, about a hundred enthusiastic youths were vociferously
+celebrating the attainment of the baccalaureate degree at the
+University of Norway. The orator on this occasion was a tall,
+handsome, distinguished-looking young man named Alexander Kielland,
+from the little coast-town of Stavanger. There was none of the
+crudity of a provincial dither in his manners or his appearance. He
+spoke with a quiet self-possession and a pithy incisiveness which
+were altogether phenomenal.
+
+"That young man will be heard from one of these days," was the
+unanimous verdict of those who listened to his clear-cut and
+finished sentences, and noted the maturity of his opinions.
+
+But ten years passed, and outside of Stavanger no one ever heard of
+Alexander Kielland. His friends were aware that he had studied law,
+spent some winters in France, married, and settled himself as a
+dignitary in his native town. It was understood that he had bought
+a large brick and tile factory, and that, as a manufacturer of
+these useful articles, he bid fair to become a provincial magnate,
+as his fathers had been before him. People had almost forgotten
+that great things had been expected of him; and some fancied,
+perhaps, that he had been spoiled by prosperity. Remembering him,
+as I did, as the most brilliant and notable personality among my
+university friends, I began to apply to him Malloch's epigrammatic
+damnation of the man of whom it was said at twenty that he would do
+great things, at thirty that he might do great things, and at forty
+that he might have done great things.
+
+This was the frame of mind of those who remembered Alexander
+Kielland (and he was an extremely difficult man to forget), when in
+the year 1879 a modest volume of "novelettes" appeared, bearing his
+name. It was, to all appearances, a light performance, but it
+revealed a sense of style which made it, nevertheless, notable.
+No man had ever written the Norwegian language as this man wrote
+it. There was a lightness of touch, a perspicacity, an epigrammatic
+sparkle and occasional flashes of wit, which seemed altogether
+un-Norwegian. It was obvious that this author was familiar with the
+best French writers, and had acquired through them that clear and
+crisp incisiveness of utterance which was supposed, hitherto, to be
+untransferable to any other tongue.
+
+As regards the themes of these "novelettes" (from which the present
+collection is chiefly made up), it was remarked at the time of
+their first appearance that they hinted at a more serious purpose
+than their style seemed to imply. Who can read, for instance,
+"Pharaoh" (which in the original is entitled "A Hall Mood") without
+detecting the revolutionary note which trembles quite audibly
+through the calm and unimpassioned language? There is, by-the-way,
+a little touch of melodrama in this tale which is very unusual with
+Kielland. "Romance and Reality," too, is glaringly at variance with
+the conventional romanticism in its satirical contributing of the
+pre-matrimonial and the pos-tmatrimonial view of love and marriage.
+The same persistent tendency to present the wrong side as well as
+the right side--and not, as literary good-manners are supposed to
+prescribe, ignore the former--is obvious in the charming tale "At
+the Fair," where a little spice of wholesome truth spoils the
+thoughtlessly festive mood; and the squalor, the want, the envy,
+hate, and greed which prudence and a regard for business compel the
+performers to disguise to the public, become the more cruelly
+visible to the visitors of the little alley-way at the rear of the
+tents. In "A Good Conscience" the satirical note has a still more
+serious ring; but the same admirable self-restraint which, next to
+the power of thought and expression, is the happiest gift an
+author's fairy godmother can bestow upon him, saves Kielland from
+saying too much--from enforcing his lesson by marginal comments, _a
+la_ George Eliot. But he must be obtuse, indeed, to whom this
+reticence is not more eloquent and effective than a page of
+philosophical moralizing.
+
+"Hope's Clad in April Green" and "The Battle of Waterloo" (the
+first and the last tale in the Norwegian edition), are more
+untinged with a moral tendency than any of the foregoing. The
+former is a mere _jeu d'esprit_, full of good-natured satire on the
+calf-love of very young people, and the amusing over-estimate of
+our importance to which we are all, at that age, peculiarly liable.
+
+As an organist with vaguely-melodious hints foreshadows in his
+prelude the musical _motifs_ which he means to vary and elaborate
+in his fugue, so Kielland lightly touched in these "novelettes" the
+themes which in his later works he has struck with a fuller volume
+and power. What he gave in this little book was it light sketch of
+his mental physiognomy, from which, perhaps, his horoscope might be
+cast and his literary future predicted.
+
+Though an aristocrat by birth and training, he revealed a strong
+sympathy with the toiling masses. But it was a democracy of the
+brain, I should fancy, rather than of the heart. As I read the
+book, twelve years ago, its tendency puzzled me considerably,
+remembering, as I did, with the greatest vividness, the fastidious
+and elegant personality of the author. I found it difficult to
+believe that he was in earnest. The book seemed to me to betray the
+whimsical _sans-culottism_ of a man of pleasure who, when the ball
+is at an end, sits down with his gloves on and philosophizes on the
+artificiality of civilization and the wholesomeness of honest toil.
+An indigestion makes him a temporary communist; but a bottle of
+seltzer presently reconciles him to his lot, and restores the
+equilibrium of the universe. He loves the people at a distance, can
+talk prettily about the sturdy son of the soil, who is the core and
+marrow of the nation, etc.; but he avoids contact with him, and, if
+chance brings them into contact, he loves him with his handkerchief
+to his nose.
+
+I may be pardoned for having identified Alexander Kielland with
+this type with which I am very familiar; and he convinced me,
+presently, that I had done him injustice. In his next book, the
+admirable novel _Garman and Worse_, he showed that his democratic
+proclivities were something more than a mood. He showed that he
+took himself seriously, and he compelled the public to take him
+seriously. The tendency which had only flashed forth here and there
+in the "novelettes" now revealed its whole countenance. The
+author's theme was the life of the prosperous bourgeoisie in the
+western coast-towns; he drew their types with a hand that gave
+evidence of intimate knowledge. He had himself sprung from one of
+these rich ship-owning, patrician families, had been given every
+opportunity to study life both at home and abroad, and had
+accumulated a fund of knowledge of the world, which he had allowed
+quietly to grow before making literary drafts upon it. The same
+Gallic perspicacity of style which had charmed in his first book
+was here in a heightened degree; and there was, besides, the same
+underlying sympathy with progress and what is called the ideas of
+the age. What mastery of description, what rich and vigorous colors
+Kielland had at his disposal was demonstrated in such scenes as the
+funeral of Consul Garman and the burning of the ship. There was,
+moreover, a delightful autobiographical note in the book,
+particularly in boyish experiences of Gabriel Garman. Such things
+no man invents, however clever; such material no imagination
+supplies, however fertile. Except Fritz Reuter's Stavenhagen, I
+know no small town in fiction which is so vividly and completely
+individualized, and populated with such living and credible
+characters. Take, for instance, the two clergymen, Archdeacon
+Sparre and the Rev. Mr. Martens, and it is not necessary to have
+lived in Norway in order to recognize and enjoy the faithfulness
+and the artistic subtlety of these portraits. If they have a dash
+of satire (which I will not undertake to deny), it is such delicate
+and well-bred satire that no one, except the originals, would think
+of taking offence. People are willing, for the sake of the
+entertainment which it affords, to forgive a little quiet malice at
+their neighbors' expense. The members of the provincial bureaucracy
+are drawn with the same firm but delicate touch, and everything has
+that beautiful air of reality which proves the world akin.
+
+It was by no means a departure from his previous style and tendency
+which Kielland signalized in his next novel, _Laboring People_ (1881).
+He only emphasizes, as it were, the heavy, serious bass chords in
+the composite theme which expresses his complex personality, and
+allows the lighter treble notes to be momentarily drowned.
+Superficially speaking, there is perhaps a reminiscence of Zola in
+this book, not in the manner of treatment, but in the subject,
+which is the corrupting influence of the higher classes upon the
+lower. There is no denying that in spite of the ability, which it
+betrays in every line, _Laboring People_ is unpleasant reading. It
+frightened away a host of the author's early admirers by the
+uncompromising vigor and the glaring realism with which it depicted
+the consequences of vicious indulgence. It showed no consideration
+for delicate nerves, but was for all that a clean and wholesome book.
+
+Kielland's third novel, _Skipper Worse_, marked a distinct step in
+his development. It was less of a social satire and more of a
+social study. It was not merely a series of brilliant, exquisitely-finished
+scenes, loosely strung together on a slender thread of narrative,
+but it was a concise, and well constructed story, full of beautiful
+scenes and admirable portraits. The theme is akin to that of
+Daudet's _L'Evangeliste_; but Kielland, as it appears to me, has in
+this instance outdone his French _confrere_ as regards insight into
+the peculiar character and poetry of the pietistic movement. He has
+dealt with it as a psychological and not primarily as a pathological
+phenomenon. A comparison with Daudet suggests itself constantly in
+reading Kielland. Their methods of workmanship and their attitude
+towards life have many points in common. The charm of style, the
+delicacy of touch and felicity of phrase, is in both cases
+pre-eminent. Daudet has, however, the advantage (or, as he himself
+asserts, the disadvantage) of working in a flexible and highly-finished
+language, which bears the impress of the labors of a hundred
+masters; while Kielland has to produce his effects of style in a
+poorer and less pliable language, which often pants and groans in
+its efforts to render a subtle thought. To have polished this
+tongue and sharpened its capacity for refined and incisive
+utterance is one--and not the least--of his merits.
+
+Though he has by nature no more sympathy with the pietistic
+movement than Daudet, Kielland yet manages to get, psychologically,
+closer to his problem. His pietists are more humanly interesting
+than those of Daudet, and the little drama which they set in motion
+is more genuinely pathetic. Two superb figures--the lay preacher,
+Hans Nilsen, and Skipper Worse--surpass all that the author had
+hitherto produced, in depth of conception and brilliancy of
+execution. The marriage of that delightful, profane old sea-dog
+Jacob Worse, with the pious Sara Torvested, and the attempts of his
+mother-in-law to convert him, are described, not with the merely
+superficial drollery to which the subject invites, but with a sweet
+and delicate humor, which trembles on the verge of pathos.
+
+The beautiful story _Elsie_, which, though published separately, is
+scarcely a full-grown novel, is intended to impress society with a
+sense of responsibility for its outcasts. While Bjoernstjerne
+Bjoernson is fond of emphasizing the responsibility of the
+individual to society, Kielland chooses by preference to reverse
+the relation. The former (in his remarkable novel _Flags are Flying
+in City and Harbor_) selects a hero with vicious inherited
+tendencies, redeemed by wise education and favorable environment;
+the latter portrays in Elsie a heroine with no corrupt predisposition,
+destroyed by the corrupting environment which society forces upon
+those who are born in her circumstances. Elsie could not be good,
+because the world is so constituted that girls of her kind are not
+expected to be good. Temptations, perpetually thronging in her way,
+break down the moral bulwarks of her nature. Resistance seems in
+vain. In the end there is scarcely one who, having read her story,
+will have the heart to condemn her.
+
+Incomparably clever is the satire on the benevolent societies,
+which appear to exist as a sort of moral poultice to tender
+consciences, and to furnish an officious sense of virtue to its
+prosperous members. "The Society for the Redemption of the
+Abandoned Women of St. Peter's Parish" is presided over by a
+gentleman who privately furnishes subjects for his public
+benevolence. However, as his private activity is not bounded by the
+precincts of St. Peter's Parish, within which the society confines
+its remedial labors, the miserable creatures who might need its aid
+are sent away uncomforted. The delicious joke of the thing is that
+"St. Peter's" is a rich and exclusive parish, consisting of what is
+called "the better classes," and has no "abandoned women." Whatever
+wickedness there may be in St. Peter's is discreetly veiled, and
+makes no claim upon public charity. The virtuous horror of the
+secretary when she hears that the "abandoned woman" who calls upon
+her for aid has a child, though she is unmarried, is both comic and
+pathetic. It is the clean, "deserving poor," who understand the art
+of hypocritical humility--it is these whom the society seeks in
+vain in St. Peter's Parish.
+
+Still another problem of the most vital consequence Kielland has
+attacked in his two novels, _Poison_ and _Fortuna_ (1884). It is,
+broadly stated, the problem of education. The hero in both books is
+Abraham Loevdahl, a well-endowed, healthy, and altogether promising
+boy who, by the approved modern educational process, is mentally
+and morally crippled, and the germs of what is great and good in
+him are systematically smothered by that disrespect for
+individuality
+and insistence upon uniformity, which are the curses of a small
+society. The revolutionary discontent which vibrates in the deepest
+depth of Kielland's nature; the profound and uncompromising
+radicalism which smoulders under his polished exterior; the
+philosophical pessimism which relentlessly condemns all the flimsy
+and superficial reformatory movements of the day, have found
+expression in the history of the childhood, youth, and manhood of
+Abraham Lvdahl. In the first place, it is worthy of note that to
+Kielland the knowledge which is offered in the guise of
+intellectual nourishment is poison. It is the dry and dusty
+accumulation of antiquarian lore, which has little or no
+application to modern life--it is this which the young man of the
+higher classes is required to assimilate. Apropos of this, let me
+quote Dr. G. Brandes, who has summed up the tendency of these two
+novels with great felicity:
+
+"The author has surveyed the generation to which he himself
+belongs, and after having scanned these wide domains of
+emasculation, these prairies of spiritual sterility, these vast
+plains of servility and irresolution, he has addressed to himself
+the questions: How does a whole generation become such? How was it
+possible to nip in the bud all that was fertile and eminent? And
+he has painted a picture of the history of the development of the
+present generation in the home-life and school-life of Abraham
+Loevdahl, in order to show from what kind of parentage those most
+fortunately situated and best endowed have sprung, and what kind of
+education they received at home and in the school. This is, indeed,
+a simple and an excellent theme.
+
+"We first see the child led about upon the wide and withered common
+of knowledge, with the same sort of meagre fodder for all; we see
+it trained in mechanical memorizing, in barren knowledge concerning
+things and forms that are dead and gone; in ignorance concerning
+the life that is, in contempt for it, and in the consciousness of
+its privileged position, by dint of its possession of this doubtful
+culture. We see pride strengthened; the healthy curiosity, the
+desire to ask questions, killed."
+
+We are apt to console ourselves on this side of the ocean with the
+idea that these social problems appertain only to the effete
+monarchies of Europe, and have no application with us. But, though
+I readily admit that the keenest point of this satire is directed
+against the small States which, by the tyranny of the dominant
+mediocrity, cripple much that is good and great by denying it the
+conditions of growth and development, there is yet a deep and
+abiding lesson in these two novels which applies to modern
+civilization in general, exposing glaring defects which are no less
+prevalent here than in the Old World.
+
+Besides being the author of some minor comedies and a full-grown
+drama ("The Professor"), Kielland has published two more novels,
+_St. John's Eve_ (1887) and _Snow_. The latter is particularly
+directed against the orthodox Lutheran clergy, of which the Rev.
+Daniel Juerges is an excellent specimen. He is, in my opinion, not
+in the least caricatured; but portrayed with a conscientious desire
+to do justice to his sincerity. Mr. Juerges is a worthy type of the
+Norwegian country pope, proud and secure in the feeling of his
+divine authority, passionately hostile to "the age," because he
+believes it to be hostile to Christ; intolerant of dissent; a guide
+and ruler of men, a shepherd of the people. The only trouble in
+Norway, as elsewhere, is that the people will no longer consent to
+be shepherded. They refuse to be guided and ruled. They rebel
+against spiritual and secular authority, and follow no longer the
+bell-wether with the timid gregariousness of servility and
+irresolution. To bring the new age into the parsonage of the
+reverend obscurantist in the shape of a young girl--the _fiancee_
+of the pastor's son--was an interesting experiment which gives
+occasion for strong scenes and, at last, for a drawn battle between
+the old and the new. The new, though not acknowledging itself to be
+beaten, takes to its heels, and flees in the stormy night through
+wind and snow. But the snow is moist and heavy; it is beginning to
+thaw. There is a vague presentiment of spring in the air.
+
+This note of promise and suspense with which the book ends is meant
+to be symbolic. From Kielland's point of view, Norway is yet
+wrapped in the wintry winding-sheet of a tyrannical orthodoxy; and
+all that he dares assert is that the chains of frost and snow seem
+to be loosening. There is a spring feeling in the air.
+
+This spring feeling is, however, scarcely perceptible in his last
+book, _Jacob_, which is written in anything but a hopeful mood. It
+is, rather, a protest against that optimism which in fiction we
+call poetic justice. The harsh and unsentimental logic of reality
+is emphasized with a ruthless disregard of rose-colored traditions.
+The peasant lad Wold, who, like all Norse peasants, has been
+brought up on the Bible, has become deeply impressed with the story
+of Jacob, and God's persistent partisanship for him, in spite of
+his dishonesty and tricky behavior. The story becomes, half
+unconsciously, the basis of his philosophy of life, and he
+undertakes to model his career on that of the Biblical hero. He
+accordingly cheats and steals with a clever moderation, and in a
+cautious and circumspect manner which defies detection. Step by
+step he rises in the regard of his fellow-citizens; crushes, with
+long-headed calculation or with brutal promptness (as it may suit
+his purpose) all those who stand in his way, and arrives at last at
+the goal of his desires. He becomes a local magnate, a member of
+parliament, where he poses as a defender of the simple,
+old-fashioned orthodoxy, is decorated by the King, and is an object
+of the envious admiration of his fellow townsmen.
+
+From the pedagogic point of view, I have no doubt that _Jacob_
+would be classed as an immoral book. But the question of its
+morality is of less consequence than the question as to its truth.
+The most modern literature, which is interpenetrated with the
+spirit of the age, has a way of asking dangerous questions--
+questions before which the reader, when he perceives their full
+scope, stands aghast. Our old idyllic faith in the goodness and
+wisdom of all mundane arrangements has undoubtedly received a shock
+from which it will never recover. Our attitude towards the universe
+is changing with the change of its attitude towards us. What the
+thinking part of humanity is now largely engaged in doing is to
+readjust itself towards the world and the world towards it. Success
+is but a complete adaptation to environment; and success is the
+supreme aim of the modern man. The authors who, by their fearless
+thinking and speaking, help us towards this readjustment should, in
+my opinion, whether we choose to accept their conclusions or not,
+be hailed as benefactors. It is in the ranks of these that
+Alexander Kielland has taken his place, and now occupies a
+conspicuous position.
+
+HJALMAR HJORTH BOYESEN.
+NEW YORK, May 15, 1891.
+
+
+
+PHARAOH.
+
+She had mounted the shining marble steps with without mishap,
+without labor, sustained by her great beauty and her fine nature
+alone. She had taken her place in the salons of the rich and great
+without laying for her admittance with her honor or her good name.
+Yet no one could say whence she came, though people whispered that
+it was from the depths.
+
+As a waif of a Parisian faubourg, she had starved through her
+childhood among surroundings of vice and poverty, such as those
+only can conceive who know them by experience. Those of us who get
+our knowledge from books and from hearsay have to strain our
+imagination in order to form an idea of the hereditary misery of a
+great city, and yet our most terrible imaginings are apt to pale
+before the reality.
+
+It had been only a question of time when vice should get its
+clutches upon her, as a cog-wheel seizes whoever comes too near the
+machine. After whirling her around through a short life of shame
+and degradation, it would, with mechanical punctuality, have cast
+her off into some corner, there to drag out to the end, in sordid
+obscurity, her caricature of an existence.
+
+But it happened, as it does sometimes happen, that she was
+"discovered" by a man of wealth and position, one day when, a child
+of fourteen, she happened to cross one of the better streets. She
+was on her way to a dark back room in the Rue des Quatre Vents,
+where she worked with a woman who made artificial flowers.
+
+It was not only her extraordinary beauty that attracted her patron;
+her movements, her whole bearing, and the expression of her
+half-formed features, all seemed to him to show that here was an
+originally fine nature struggling against incipient corruption.
+Moved by one of the incalculable whims of the very wealthy, he
+determined to try to rescue the unhappy child.
+
+It was not difficult to obtain control of her, as she belonged to
+no one. He gave her a name, and placed her in one of the best
+convent schools. Before long her benefactor had the satisfaction of
+observing that the seeds of evil died away and disappeared. She
+developed an amiable, rather indolent character, correct and quiet
+manners, and a rare beauty.
+
+When she grew up he married her. Their married life was peaceful
+and pleasant; in spite of the great difference in their ages, he
+had unbounded confidence in her, and she deserved it.
+
+Married people do not live in such close communion in France as
+they do with us; so that their claims upon each other are not so
+great, and their disappointments are less bitter.
+
+She was not happy, but contented. Her character lent itself to
+gratitude. She did not feel the tedium of wealth; on the contrary,
+she often took an almost childish pleasure in it. But no one could
+guess that, for her bearing was always full of dignity and repose.
+People suspected that there was something questionable about her
+origin, but as no one could answer questions they left off asking
+them. One has so much else to think of in Paris.
+
+She had forgotten her past. She had forgotten it just as we have
+forgotten the roses, the ribbons, and faded letters of our youth--
+because we never think about them. They lie locked up in a drawer
+which we never open. And yet, if we happen now and again to cast a
+glance into this secret drawer, we at once notice if a single one
+of the roses, or the least bit of ribbon, is wanting. For we
+remember them all to a nicety; the memories are ran fresh as ever--
+as sweet as ever, and as bitter.
+
+It was thus she had forgotten her past--locked it up and thrown
+away the key.
+
+But at night she sometimes dreamed frightful things. She could once
+more feel the old witch with whom she lived shaking her by the
+shoulder, and driving her out in the cold mornings to work at her
+artificial flowers.
+
+Then she would jump up in her bed, and stare out into the darkness
+in the most deadly fear. But presently she would touch the silk
+coverlet and the soft pillows; her fingers would follow the rich
+carvings of her luxurious bed; and while sleepy little child-angels
+slowly drew aside the heavy dream-curtain, she tasted in deep
+draughts the peculiar, indescribable well-being we feel when we
+discover that an evil and horrible dream was a dream and nothing
+more.
+
+***
+
+Leaning back among the soft cushions, she drove to the great ball
+at the Russian ambassador's. The nearer they got to their
+destination the slower became the pace, until the carriage reached
+the regular queue, where it dragged on at a foot-pace.
+
+In the wide square in front of the hotel, brilliantly lighted with
+torches and with gas, a great crowd of people had gathered. Not
+only passers-by who had stopped to look on, but more especially
+workmen, loafers, poor women, and ladies of questionable
+appearance, stood in serried ranks on both sides of the row of
+carriages. Humorous remarks and coarse witticisms in the vulgarest
+Parisian dialect hailed down upon the passing carriages and their
+occupants.
+
+She heard words which she had not heard for many years, and she
+blushed at the thought that she was perhaps the only one in this
+whole long line of carriages who understood these low expressions
+of the dregs of Paris.
+
+She began to look at the faces around her: it seemed to her as if
+she knew them all. She knew what they thought, what was passing in
+each of these tightly-packed heads; and little by little a host of
+memories streamed in upon her. She fought against them as well as
+she could, but she was not herself this evening.
+
+She had not, then, lost the key to the secret drawer; reluctantly
+she drew it out, and the memories overpowered her.
+
+She remembered how often she herself, still almost a child, had
+devoured with greedy eyes the fine ladies who drove in splendor to
+balls or theatres; how often she had cried in bitter envy over the
+flowers she laboriously pieced together to make others beautiful.
+Here she saw the same greedy eyes, the same inextinguishable,
+savage envy.
+
+And the dark, earnest men who scanned the equipages with
+half-contemptuous, half-threatening looks--she knew them all.
+
+Had not she herself, as a little girl, lain in a corner and
+listened, wide-eyed, to their talk about the injustice of life, the
+tyranny of the rich, and the rights of the laborer, which he had
+only to reach out his hand to seize?
+
+She knew that they hated everything--the sleek horses, the
+dignified coachmen, the shining carriages, and, most of all, the
+people who sat within them--these insatiable vampires, these
+ladies, whose ornaments for the night cost more gold than any one
+of them could earn by the work of a whole lifetime.
+
+And as she looked along the line of carriages, as it dragged on
+slowly through the crowd, another memory flashed into her mind--a
+half-forgotten picture from her school-life in the convent.
+
+She suddenly came to think of the story of Pharaoh and his
+war-chariots following the children of Israel through the Red Sea.
+She saw the waves, which she had always imagined red as blood,
+piled up like a wall on both sides of the Egyptians.
+
+Then the voice of Moses sounded. He stretched out his staff over
+the waters, and the Red Sea waves hurtled together and swallowed up
+Pharaoh and all his chariots.
+
+She knew that the wall which stood on each side of her was wilder
+and more rapacious than the waves of the sea; she knew that it
+needed only a voice, a Moses, to set all this human sea in motion,
+hurling it irresistibly onward until it should sweep away all the
+glory of wealth and greatness in its blood-red waves.
+
+Her heart throbbed, and she crouched trembling into the corner of
+the carriage. But it was not with fear; it was so that those
+without should not see her--for she was ashamed to meet their eyes.
+
+For the first time in her life, her good-fortune appeared to her in
+the light of an injustice, a thing to blush for.
+
+Was she in her right place, in this soft-cushioned carriage, among
+these tyrants and blood-suckers? Should she not rather be out there
+in the billowing mass, among the children of hate?
+
+Half-forgotten thoughts and feelings thrust up their heads like
+beasts of prey which have long lain bound. She felt strange and
+homeless in her glittering life, and thought with a sort of
+demoniac longing of the horrible places from which she had risen.
+
+She seized her rich lace shawl; there came over her a wild desire
+to destroy, to tear something to pieces; but at this moment the
+carriage turned into the gate-way of the hotel.
+
+The footman tore open the door, and with her gracious smile, her
+air of quiet, aristocratic distinction, she alighted.
+
+A young attache rushed forward, and was happy when she took his
+arm, still more enraptured when he thought he noticed an unusual
+gleam in her eyes, and in the seventh heaven when he felt her arm
+tremble.
+
+Full of pride and hope, he led her with sedulous politeness up the
+shining marble steps.
+
+***
+
+"'Tell me, _belle dame_, what good fairy endowed you in your cradle
+with the marvellous gift of transforming everything you touch into
+something new and strange. The very flower in your hair has a
+charm, as though it were wet with the fresh morning dew. And when
+you dance it seems as though the floor swayed and undulated to
+the rhythm of your footsteps."
+
+The Count was himself quite astonished at this long and felicitous
+compliment, for as a rule he did not find it easy to express
+himself coherently. He expected, too, that his beautiful partner
+would show her appreciation of his effort.
+
+But he was disappointed. She leaned over the balcony, where they
+were enjoying the cool evening air after the dance, and gazed out
+over the crowd and the still-advancing carriages. She seemed not to
+have understood the Count's great achievement; at least he could
+only hear her whisper the inexplicable word, "Pharaoh."
+
+He was on the point of remonstrating with her, when she turned
+round, made a step towards the salon, stopped right in front of
+him, and looked him in the face with great, wonderful eyes, such as
+the Count had never seen before.
+
+"I scarcely think, Monsieur le Comte, that any good fairy--perhaps
+not even a cradle--was present at my birth. But in what you say of
+my flowers and my dancing your penetration has led you to a great
+discovery. I will tell you the secret of the fresh morning dew
+which lies on the flowers. It is the tears, Monsieur le Comte,
+which envy and shame, disappointment and remorse, have wept over
+them. And if you seem to feel the floor swaying as we dance, that
+is because it trembles under the hatred of millions."
+
+She had spoken with her customary repose, and with a friendly bow
+she disappeared into the salon.
+
+***
+
+The Count remained rooted to the spot. He cast a glance over the
+crowd outside. It was a right he had often seen, and he had made
+sundry snore or less trivial witticisms about the "many-headed
+monster." But to-night it struck him for the first time that this
+monster was, after all, the most unpleasant neighbor for a palace
+one could possibly imagine.
+
+Strange and disturbing thoughts whirled in the brain of Monsieur le
+Comte, where they found plenty of space to gyrate. He was entirely
+thrown off his balance, and it was not till after the next polka
+that his placidity returned.
+
+
+
+THE PARSONAGE.
+
+It seemed as though the spring would never come. All through April
+the north wind blew and the nights were frosty. In the middle of
+the day the sun shone so warmly that a few big flies began to buzz
+around, and the lark proclaimed, on its word of honor, that it was
+the height of summer.
+
+But the lark is the most untrustworthy creature under heaven.
+However much it might freeze at night, the frost was forgotten at
+the first sunbeam; and the lark soared, singing, high over the
+heath, until it bethought itself that it was hungry.
+
+Then it sank slowly down in wide circles, singing, and beating time
+to its song with the flickering of its wings. But a little way from
+the earth it folded its wings and dropped like a stone down into
+the heather.
+
+The lapwing tripped with short steps among the hillocks, and nodded
+its head discreetly. It had no great faith in the lark, and
+repeated its wary "Bi litt! Bi litt!" [Note: "Wait a bit! Wait a
+bit!" Pronounced _Bee leet_] A couple of mallards lay snuggling in
+a marsh-hole, and the elder one was of opinion that spring would
+not come until we had rain.
+
+Far on into May the meadows were still yellow; only here and there
+on the sunny leas was there any appearance of green. But if you lay
+down upon the earth you could see a multitude of little shoots--
+some thick, others as thin as green darning-needles--which thrust
+their heads cautiously up through the mould. But the north wind
+swept so coldly over them that they turned yellow at the tips, and
+looked as if they would like to creep back again.
+
+But that they could not do; so they stood still and waited, only
+sprouting ever so little in the midday sun.
+
+The mallard was right; it was rain they wanted. And at last it
+came--cold in the beginning, but gradually warmer; and when it was
+over the sun came out in earnest. And now you would scarcely have
+known it again; it shone warmly, right from the early morning till
+the late evening, so that the nights were mild and moist.
+
+Then an immense activity set in; everything was behindhand, and had
+to make up for lost time. The petals burst from the full buds with
+a little crack, and all the big and little shoots made a sudden
+rush. They darted out stalks, now to the one side, now to the
+other, as quickly as though they lay kicking with green legs. The
+meadows were spangled with flowers and weeds, and the heather
+slopes towards the sea began to light up.
+
+Only the yellow sand along the shore remained as it was; it has no
+flowers to deck itself with, and lyme-grass is all its finery.
+Therefore it piles itself up into great mounds, seen far and wide
+along the shore, on which the long soft stems sway like a green
+banner.
+
+There the sand-pipers ran about so fast that their legs looked like
+a piece of a tooth comb. The sea-gulls walked on the beach, where
+the waves could sweep over their legs. They held themselves
+sedately, their heads depressed and their crops protruded, like old
+ladies in muddy weather.
+
+The sea-pie stood with his heels together, in his tight trousers,
+his black swallow-tail, and his white waistcoat.
+
+"Til By'n! Til By'n!" he cried [Note: "To Town! To Town!"], and at
+each cry ho made a quick little bow, so that his coat tails whisked
+up behind him.
+
+Up in the heather the lapwing flew about flapping her wings. The
+spring had overtaken her so suddenly that she had not had time to
+find a proper place for her nest. She had laid her eggs right in
+the middle of a flat-topped mound. It was all wrong, she knew that
+quite well; but it could not be helped now.
+
+The lark laughed at it all; but the sparrows were all in a
+hurry-scurry. They were not nearly ready. Some had not even a nest;
+others had laid an egg or two; but the majority had sat on the
+cow-house roof, week out, week in, chattering about the almanac.
+
+Now they were in such a fidget they did not know where to begin.
+They held a meeting in a great rose-bush, beside the Pastor's
+garden-fence, all cackling and screaming together. The cock-sparrows
+ruffled themselves up, so that all their feathers stood straight
+on end; and then they perked their tails up slanting in the air,
+so that they looked like little gray balls with a pin stuck in
+them. So they trundled down the branches and ricochetted away
+over the meadow.
+
+All of a sudden, two dashed against each other. The rest rushed up,
+and all the little balls wound themselves into one big one. It
+rolled forward from under the bush, rose with a great hubbub a
+little way into the air, then fell in one mass to the earth and
+went to pieces. And then, without uttering a sound, each of the
+little balls suddenly went his way, and a moment afterwards there
+was not a sparrow to be seen about the whole Parsonage.
+
+Little Ansgarius had watched the battle of the sparrows with lively
+interest. For, in his eyes, it was a great engagement, with charges
+and cavalry skirmishes. He was reading _Universal History_ and the
+_History of Norway_ with his father, and therefore everything that
+happened about the house assumed a martial aspect in one way or
+another. When the cows came home in the evening, they ware great
+columns of infantry advancing; the hens were the volunteer forces,
+and the cock was Burgomaster Nansen.
+
+Ansgarius was a clever boy, who had all his dates at his fingers'
+ends; but he had no idea of the meaning of time. Accordingly, he
+jumbled together Napoleon and Eric Blood-Axe and Tiberius; and on
+the ships which he saw sailing by in the offing he imagined
+Tordenskiold doing battle, now with Vikings, and now with the
+Spanish Armada.
+
+In a secret den behind the summer-house he kept a red broom-stick,
+which was called Bucephalus. It was his delight to prance about the
+garden with his steed between his legs, and a flowerstick in his
+hand.
+
+A little way from the garden there was a hillock with a few small
+trees upon it. Here he could lie in ambush and keep watch far and
+wide over the heathery levels and the open sea.
+
+He never failed to descry one danger or another drawing near;
+either suspicious-looking boats on the beach, or great squadrons of
+cavalry advancing so cunningly that they looked like nothing but a
+single horse. But Ansgarius saw through their stealthy tactics; he
+wheeled Bucephalus about, tore down from the mound and through the
+garden, and dashed at a gallop into the farm-yard. The hens
+shrieked as if their last hour had come, and Burgomaster Nansen
+flew right against the Pastor's study window.
+
+The Pastor hurried to the window, and just caught sight of
+Bucephalus's tail as the hero dashed round the corner of the
+cow-house, where he proposed to place himself in a posture of
+defence.
+
+"That boy is deplorably wild," thought the Pastor. He did not at
+all like all these martial proclivities. Ansgarius was to be a man
+of peace, like the Pastor himself; and it was a positive pain to
+him to see how easily the boy learned and assimilated everything
+that had to do with war and fighting.
+
+The Pastor would try now and then to depict the peaceful life of
+the ancients or of foreign nations. But he made little impression.
+Ansgarius pinned his faith to what he found in his book; and there
+it was nothing but war after war. The people were all soldiers, the
+heroes waded in blood; and it was fruitless labor for the Pastor to
+try to awaken the boy to any sympathy with those whose blood they
+waded in.
+
+It would occur to the Pastor now and again that it might, perhaps,
+have been better to have filled the young head from the first with
+more peaceful ideas and images than the wars of rapacious monarchs
+or the murders and massacres of our forefathers. But then he
+remembered that he himself had gone through the same course in his
+boyhood, so that it must be all right. Ansgarius would be a man of
+peace none the less--and if not! "Well, everything is in the hand
+of Providence," said the Pastor confidingly, and set to work again
+at his sermon.
+
+"You're quite forgetting your lunch to-day, father," said a blond
+head in the door-way.
+
+"Why, so I am, Rebecca; I'm a whole hour too late," answered the
+father, and went at once into the dining-room.
+
+The father and daughter sat down at the luncheon-table. Ansgarius
+was always his own master on Saturdays, when the Pastor was taken
+up with his sermon.
+
+You would not easily have found two people who suited each other
+better, or who lived on terms of more intimate friendship, than the
+Pastor and his eighteen-year-old daughter. She had been motherless
+from childhood; but there was so much that was womanly in her
+gentle, even-tempered father, that the young girl, who remembered
+her mother only as a pale face that smiled on her, felt the loss
+rather as a peaceful sorrow than as a bitter pain.
+
+And for him she came to fill up more and more, as she ripened, the
+void that had been left in his soul; and all the tenderness, which
+at his wife's death had been se clouded in sorrow and longing, now
+gathered around the young woman who grew up under his eyes; so that
+his sorrow was assuaged and peace descended upon his mind.
+
+Therefore he was able to be almost like a mother to her. He taught
+her to look upon the world with his own pure, untroubled eyes. It
+became the better part of his aim in life to hedge her around and
+protect her fragile and delicate nature from all the soilures and
+perturbations which make the world so perplexing, so difficult, and
+so dangerous an abiding-place.
+
+When they stood together on the hill beside the Parsonage, gazing
+forth over the surging sea, he would say: "Look, Rebecca! yonder is
+an image of life--of that life in which the children of this world
+are tossed to and fro; in which impure passions rock the frail
+skiff about, to litter the shore at last with its shattered
+fragments. He only can defy the storm who builds strong bulwarks
+around a pure heart--at his feet the waves break powerlessly."
+
+Rebecca clung to her father; she felt so safe by his side. There
+was such a radiance over all he said, that when she thought of the
+future she seemed to see the path before her bathed in light. For
+all her questions he had an answer; nothing was too lofty for him,
+nothing too lowly. They exchanged ideas without the least
+constraint, almost like brother and sister.
+
+And yet one point remained dark between them. On all other matters
+she would question her father directly; here she had to go
+indirectly to work, to get round something which she could never
+get over.
+
+She knew her father's great sorrow; she knew what happiness he had
+enjoyed and lost. She followed with the warmest sympathy the
+varying fortunes of the lovers in the books she read aloud during
+the winter evenings; her heart understood that love, which brings
+the highest joy, may also cause the deepest sorrow. But apart from
+the sorrows of ill-starred love, she caught glimpses of something
+else--a terrible something which she did not understand. Dark forms
+would now and then appear to her, gliding through the paradise of
+love, disgraced and abject. The sacred name of love was linked with
+the direst shame and the deepest misery. Among people whom she
+knew, things happened from time to time which she dared not think
+about; and when, in stern but guarded words, her father chanced to
+speak of moral corruption, she would shrink, for hours afterwards,
+from meeting his eye.
+
+He remarked this and was glad. In such sensitive purity had she
+grown up, so completely had he succeeded in holding aloof from her
+whatever could disturb her childlike innocence, that her soul was
+like a shining pearl to which no mire could cling.
+
+He prayed that he might ever keep her thus!
+
+So long as he himself was there to keep watch, no harm should
+approach her. And if he was called away, he had at least provided
+her with armor of proof for life, which would stand her in good
+stead on the day of battle. And a day of battle no doubt would
+come. He gazed at her with a look which she did not understand, and
+said with his strong faith, "Well, well, everything is in the hand
+of Providence!"
+
+"Haven't you time to go for a walk with me to-day, father?" asked
+Rebecca, when they had finished dinner.
+
+"Why, yes; do you know, I believe it would do me good. The weather
+is delightful, and I've been so industrious that my sermon is as
+good as finished."
+
+They stepped out upon the threshold before the main entrance, which
+faced the other buildings of the farm. There was this peculiarity
+about the Parsonage, that the high-road, leading to the town,
+passed right through the farm-yard. The Pastor did not at all like
+this, for before everything he loved peace and quietness; and
+although the district was sufficiently out-of-the-way, there was
+always a certain amount of life on the road which led to the town.
+
+But for Ansgarius the little traffic that came their way was an
+inexhaustible source of excitement. While the father and daughter
+stood on the threshold discussing whether they should follow the
+road or go through the heather down to the beach, the young warrior
+suddenly came rushing up the hill and into the yard. He was flushed
+and out of breath, and Bucephalus was going at a hand gallop. Right
+before the door he reined in his horse with a sudden jerk, so that
+he made a deep gash in the sand; and swinging his sword, he
+shouted, "They're coming, they're coming!"
+
+"Who are coming?" asked Rebecca.
+
+"Snorting black chargers and three war chariots full of men-at-arms."
+
+"Rubbish, my boy!" said his father, sternly.
+
+"Three phaetons are coming with townspeople in them," said
+Ansgarius, and dismounted with an abashed air.
+
+"Let us go in, Rebecca," said the Pastor, turning.
+
+But at the same moment the foremost horses came at a quick pace
+over the brow of the hill. They were not exactly snorting chargers;
+yet it was a pretty sight as carriage after carriage came into view
+in the sunshine, full of merry faces and lively colors. Rebecca
+could not help stopping.
+
+On the back seat of the foremost carriage sat an elderly gentleman
+and a buxom lady. On the front seat she saw a young lady; and just
+as they entered the yard, a gentleman who sat at her side stood up,
+and, with a word of apology to the lady on the back seat, turned
+and looked forward past the driver. Rebecca gazed at him without
+knowing what she was doing.
+
+"How lovely it is here!" cried the young man.
+
+For the Parsonage lay on the outermost slope towards the sea, so
+that the vast blue horizon suddenly burst upon you as you entered
+the yard.
+
+The gentleman on the back seat leaned a little forward. "Yes, it's
+very pretty here," he said; "I'm glad that you appreciate our
+peculiar scenery, Mr. Lintzow."
+
+At the same moment the young man's glance met Rebecca's, and she
+instantly lowered her eyes. But he stopped the driver, and cried,
+"Let us remain here!"
+
+"Hush!" said the older lady, with a low laugh. "This won't do, Mr.
+Lintzow; this is the Parsonage."
+
+"It doesn't matter," cried the young man, merrily, as he jumped out
+of the carriage. "I say," he shouted backward towards the other
+carriages, "sha'n't we rest here?"
+
+"Yes, yes," came the answer in chorus; and the merry party began at
+once to alight.
+
+But now the gentleman on the back seat rose, and said, seriously:
+"No, no, my friends! this really won't do! It's out of the question
+for us to descend upon the clergyman, whom we don't know at all.
+It's only ten minutes' drive to the district judge's, and there
+they are in the habit of receiving strangers."
+
+He was on the point of giving orders to drive on, when the Pastor
+appeared in the door-way, with a friendly bow. He knew Consul
+Hartvig by sight--the leading man of the town.
+
+"If your party will make the best of things here, it will be a
+great pleasure to me; and I think I may say that, so far as the
+view goes--"
+
+"Oh no, my dear Pastor, you're altogether too kind; it's out of
+the question for us to accept your kind invitation, and I must
+really beg you to excuse these young madcaps," said Mrs. Hartvig,
+half in despair when she saw her youngest son, who had been seated
+in the last carriage, already deep in a confidential chat with
+Ansgarius.
+
+"But I assure you, Mrs. Hartvig," answered the Pastor, smiling,
+"that so pleasant an interruption of our solitude would be most
+welcome both to my daughter and myself."
+
+Mr. Lintzow opened the carriage-door with a formal bow, Consul
+Hartvig looked at his wife and she at him, the Pastor advanced and
+renewed his invitation, and the end was that, with half-laughing
+reluctance, they alighted and suffered the Pastor to usher them
+into the spacious garden-room.
+
+Then came renewed excuses and introductions. The party consisted of
+Consul Hartvig's children and some young friends of theirs, the
+picnic having been arranged in honor of Max Lintzow, a friend of
+the eldest son of the house, who was spending some days as the
+Consul's guest.
+
+"My daughter Rebecca," said the Pastor, presenting her, "who will
+do the best our humble house-keeping permits."
+
+"No, no, I protest, my dear Pastor," the lively Mrs. Hartvig
+interrupted him eagerly, "this is going too far! Even if this
+incorrigible Mr. Lintzow and my crazy sons have succeeded in
+storming your house and home, I won't resign the last remnants of
+my authority. The entertainment shall most certainly be my affair.
+Off you go, young men," she said, turning to her sons, "and unpack
+the carriages. And you, my dear child, must by all means go and
+amuse yourself with the young people; just leave the catering to
+me; I know all about that."
+
+And the kind-hearted woman looked with her honest gray eyes at her
+host's pretty daughter, and patted her on the cheek.
+
+How nice that felt! There was a peculiar coziness in the touch of
+the comfortable old lady's soft hand. The tears almost rose to
+Rebecca's eyes; she stood as if she expected that the strange lady
+would put her arms round her neck and whisper to her something she
+had long waited to hear.
+
+But the conversation glided on. The young people, with
+ever-increasing glee, brought all sorts of strange parcels out
+of the carriages. Mrs. Hartvig threw her cloak upon a chair and set
+about arranging things as best she could. But the young people,
+always with Mr. Lintzow at their head, seemed determined to make as
+much confusion as possible. Even the Pastor was infected by their
+merriment, and to Rebecca's unspeakable astonishment she saw her
+own father, in complicity with Mr. Lintzow, biding a big paper
+parcel under Mrs. Hartvig's cloak.
+
+At last the racket became too much for the old lady. "My dear Miss
+Rebecca," she exclaimed, "have you not any show-place to exhibit in
+the neighborhood--the farther off the better--so that I might get
+these crazy beings off my hands for a little while?"
+
+"There's a lovely view from the King's Knoll; and then there's the
+beach and the sea."
+
+"Yes, let's go down to the sea!" cried Max Lintzow.
+
+"That's just what I want," said the old lady. "If you can relieve
+me of _him_ I shall be all right, for he is the worst of them all."
+
+"If Miss Rebecca will lead the way, I will follow wherever she
+pleases," said the young man, with a bow.
+
+Rebecca blushed. Nothing of that sort had ever been said to her
+before. The handsome young man made her a low bow, and his words
+had such a ring of sincerity. But there was no time to dwell upon
+this impression; the whole merry troop were soon out of the house,
+through the garden, and, with Rebecca and Lintzow at their head,
+making their way up to the little height which was called the
+King's Knoll.
+
+Many years ago a number of antiquities had been dug up on the top
+of the Knoll, and one of the Pastor's predecessors in the parish
+had planted some hardy trees upon the slopes. With the exception of
+a rowan-tree, and a walnut-avenue in the Parsonage garden, these
+were the only trees to be found for miles round on the windy slopes
+facing the open sea. In spite of storms and sand-drifts, they had,
+in the course of time, reached something like the height of a man,
+and, turning their bare and gnarled stems to the north wind, like a
+bent back, they stretched forth their long, yearning arms towards
+the south. Rebecca's mother had planted some violets among them.
+
+"Oh, how fortunate!" cried the eldest Miss Hartvig; "here are
+violets! Oh, Mr. Lintzow, do pick me a bouquet of them for this
+evening!"
+
+The young man, who had been exerting himself to hit upon the right
+tone in which to converse with Rebecca, fancied that the girl
+started at Miss Frederica's words.
+
+"You are very fond of the violets?" he said, softly.
+
+She looked up at him in surprise; how could he possibly know that?
+
+"Don't you think, Miss Hartvig, that it would be better to pick the
+flowers just as we are starting, so that they may keep fresher?"
+
+"As you please," she answered, shortly.
+
+"Let's hope she'll forget all about it by that time," said Max
+Lintzow to himself, under his breath.
+
+But Rebecca heard, and wondered what pleasure he could find in
+protecting her violets, instead of picking them for that handsome
+girl.
+
+After they had spent some time in admiring the limitless prospect,
+the party left the Knoll and took a foot-path downward towards the
+beach.
+
+On the smooth, firm sand, at the very verge of the sea, the young
+people strolled along, conversing gayly. Rebecca was at first quite
+confused. It seemed as though these merry towns-people spoke a
+language she did not understand. Sometimes she thought they laughed
+at nothing; and, on the other hand, she herself often could not
+help laughing at their cries of astonishment and their questions
+about everything they saw.
+
+But gradually she began to feel at her ease among these
+good-natured, kindly people; the youngest Miss Hartvig even put
+her arm around her waist as they walked. And then Rebecca, too,
+thawed; she joined in their laughter, and said what she had to say
+as easily and freely as any of the others. It never occurred to her
+to notice that the young men, and especially Mr. Lintzow, were
+chiefly taken up with her; and the little pointed speeches which
+this circumstance called forth from time to time were as
+meaningless for her as much of the rest of the conversation.
+
+They amused themselves for some time with running down the shelving
+beach every time the wave receded, and then rushing up again when
+the next wave came. And great was the glee when one of the young
+men was overtaken, or when a larger wave than usual sent its fringe
+of foam right over the slope, and forced the merry party to beat a
+precipitate retreat.
+
+"Look! Mamma's afraid that we shall be too late for the ball,"
+cried Miss Hartvig, suddenly; and they now discovered that the
+Consul and Mrs. Hartvig and the Pastor were standing like three
+windmills on the Parsonage hill, waving with pocket handkerchiefs
+and napkins.
+
+They turned their faces homeward. Rebecca took them by a short cut
+over the morass, not reflecting that the ladies from the town could
+not jump from tuft to tuft as she could. Miss Frederica, in her
+tight skirt, jumped short, and stumbled into a muddy hole. She
+shrieked and cried piteously for help, with her eyes fixed upon
+Lintzow.
+
+"Look alive, Henrik!" cried Max to Hartvig junior, who was nearer
+at hand; "why don't you help your sister?"
+
+Miss Frederica extricated herself without help, and the party
+proceeded.
+
+The table was laid in the garden, along the wall of the house; and
+although the spring was so young, it was warm enough in the
+sunshine. When they had all found seats, Mrs. Hartvig cast a
+searching glance over the table.
+
+"Why--why--surely there's something wanting! I'm convinced I saw
+the house-keeper wrapping up a black grouse this morning.
+Frederica, my dear, don't you remember it?"
+
+"Excuse me, mother, you know that housekeeping is not at all in my
+department."
+
+Rebecca looked at her father, and so did Lintzow; the worthy Pastor
+pulled a face upon which even Ansgarius could read a confession of
+crime.
+
+"I can't possibly believe," began Mrs. Hartvig, "that you, Pastor,
+have been conspiring with--" And then he could not help laughing
+and making a clean breast of it, amid great merriment, while the
+boys in triumph produced the parcel with the game. Every one was in
+the best possible humor. Consul Hartvig was delighted to find that
+their clerical host could join in a joke, and the Pastor himself
+was in higher spirits than he had been in for many a year.
+
+In the course of the conversation some one happened to remark that
+although the arrangements might be countrified enough, the viands
+were too town-like; "No country meal is complete without thick
+milk." [Note: Milk allowed to stand until it has thickened to the
+consistency of curds, and then eaten, commonly with sugar.]
+
+Rebecca at once rose and demanded leave to bring a basin of milk;
+and, paying no attention to Mrs. Hartvig's protests, she left the
+table.
+
+"Let me help you, Miss Rebecca," cried Max, and ran after her.
+
+"That is a lively young man," said the Pastor.
+
+"Yes, isn't he?" answered the Consul, "and a deuced good business
+man into the bargain. He has spent several years abroad, and now
+his father has taken him into partnership."
+
+"He's perhaps a little unstable," said Mrs. Hartvig, doubtfully.
+
+"Yes, he is indeed," sighed Miss Frederica.
+
+The young man followed Rebecca through the suite of rooms that led
+to the dairy. At bottom, she did not like this, although the dairy
+was her pride; but he joked and laughed so merrily that she could
+not help joining in the laughter.
+
+She chose a basin of milk upon the upper shelf, and stretched out
+her arms to reach it.
+
+"No, no, Miss Rebecca, it's too high for you!" cried Max; "let me
+hand it down to you." And as he said so he laid his hand upon hers.
+
+Rebecca hastily drew back her hand. She knew that her face had
+flushed, and she almost felt as if she must burst into tears.
+
+Then he said, softly and earnestly, lowering his eyes, "Pray,
+pardon me, Miss Rebecca. I feel that my behavior must seem far too
+light and frivolous to such a woman as you; but I should be sorry
+that you should think of me as nothing but the empty coxcomb I
+appear to be. Merriment, to many people, is merely a cloak for
+their sufferings, and there are some who laugh only that they may
+not weep."
+
+At the last words he looked up. There was something so mournful,
+and at the same time so reverential, in his glance, that Rebecca
+all of a sudden felt as if she had been unkind to him. She was
+accustomed to reach things down from the upper shelf, but when she
+again stretched out her hands for the basin of milk, she let her
+arms drop, and said, "No, perhaps it _is_ too high for me, after
+all."
+
+A faint smile passed over his face as he took the basin and carried
+it carefully out; she accompanied him and opened the doors for him.
+Every time he passed her she looked closely at him. His collar, his
+necktie, his coat--everything was different from her father's, and
+he carried with him a peculiar perfume which she did not know.
+
+When they came to the garden door, he stopped for an instant, and
+looked up with a melancholy smile: "I must take a moment to recover
+my expression of gayety, so that no one out there may notice
+anything."
+
+Then he passed out upon the steps with a joking speech to the
+company at the table, and she heard their laughing answers; but she
+herself remained behind in the garden-room.
+
+Poor young man! how sorry she was for him; and how strange that she
+of all people should be the only one in whom he confided. What
+secret sorrow could it be that depressed him? Perhaps he, too, had
+lost his mother. Or could it be something still mote terrible? How
+glad she would be if only she could help him.
+
+When Rebecca presently came out he was once more the blithest of
+them all. Only once in a while, when he looked at her, his eyes
+seemed again to assume that melancholy, half-beseeching expression;
+and it cut her to the heart when he laughed at the same moment.
+
+At last came the time for departure; there was hearty leave-taking
+on both sides. But as the last of the packing was going on, and in
+the general confusion, while every one was finding his place in the
+carriages, or seeking a new place for the homeward journey, Rebecca
+slipped into the house, through the rooms, out into the garden, and
+away to the King's Knoll. Here she seated herself in the shadow of
+the trees, where the violets grew, and tried to collect her thoughts.
+
+--"What about the violets, Mr. Lintzow?" cried Miss Frederica, who
+had already taken her seat in the carriage.
+
+The young man had for some time been eagerly searching for the
+daughter of the house. He answered absently, "I'm afraid it's too
+late."
+
+But a thought seemed suddenly to strike him. "Oh, Mrs. Hartvig," he
+cried, "will you excuse me for a couple of minutes while I fetch a
+bouquet for Miss Frederica?"
+
+--Rebecca heard rapid steps approaching; she thought it could be no
+one but he.
+
+"Ah, are you here, Miss Rebecca? I have come to gather some violets."
+
+She turned half away from him and began to pluck the flowers.
+
+"Are these flowers for me?" he asked, hesitatingly.
+
+"Are they not for Miss Frederica?"
+
+"Oh no, let them be for me!" he besought, kneeling at her side.
+
+Again his voice had such a plaintive ring in it--almost like that
+of a begging child.
+
+She handed him the violets without looking up. Then he clasped her
+round the waist and held her close to him. She did not resist, but
+closed her eyes and breathed heavily. Then she felt that he kissed
+her--over and over again--on the eyes, on the mouth, meanwhile
+calling her by her name, with incoherent words, and then kissing
+her again. They called to him from the garden; he let her go and
+ran down the mound. The horses stamped, the young man sprang
+quickly into the carriage, and it rolled away. But as he was
+closing the carriage door he was so maladroit as to drop the
+bouquet; only a single violet remained in his hand.
+
+"I suppose it's no use offering you this one, Miss Frederica?" he
+said.
+
+"No, thanks; you may keep that as a memento of your remarkable
+dexterity," answered Miss Hartvig; he was in her black books.
+
+"Yes--you are right--I shall do so," answered Max Lintzow, with
+perfect composure.
+
+--Next day, after the ball, when he put on his morning-coat, he
+found a withered violet in the button-hole. He nipped off the
+flower with his fingers, and drew out the stalk from beneath.
+
+"By-the-bye," he said, smiling to himself in the mirror, "I had
+almost forgotten _her_!"
+
+In the afternoon he went away, and then he _quite_ forgot her.
+
+
+The summer came with warm days and long, luminous nights. The smoke
+of the passing steamships lay in long black streaks over the
+peaceful sea. The sailing-ships drifted by with flapping sails and
+took nearly a whole day to pass out of sight.
+
+It was some time before the Pastor noticed any change in his
+daughter. But little by little he became aware that Rebecca was not
+flourishing that summer. She had grown pale, and kept much to her
+own room. She scarcely ever came into the study, and at last he
+fancied that she avoided him.
+
+Then he spoke seriously to her, and begged her to tell him if she
+was ill, or if mental troubles of any sort had affected her spirits.
+
+But she only wept, and answered scarcely a word.
+
+After this conversation, however, things went rather better. She
+did not keep so much by herself, and was oftener with her father.
+But the old ring was gone from her voice, and her eyes were not so
+frank as of old.
+
+The Doctor came, and began to cross-question her. She blushed as
+red as fire, and at last burst into such a paroxysm of weeping,
+that the old gentleman left her room and went down to the Pastor in
+his study.
+
+"Well, Doctor, what do you think of Rebecca?"
+
+"Tell me now, Pastor," began the Doctor, diplomatically, "has your
+daughter gone through any violent mental crisis--hm--any--"
+
+"Temptation, do you mean?"
+
+"No, not exactly. Has she not had any sort of heartache? Or, to put
+it plainly, any love-sorrow?"
+
+The Pastor was very near feeling a little hurt. How could the
+Doctor suppose that his own Rebecca, whose heart was as an open
+book to him, could or would conceal from her father any sorrow of
+such a nature! And, besides--! Rebecca was really not one of the
+girls whose heads were full of romantic dreams of love. And as she
+was never away from his side, how could she--? "No, no, my dear
+Doctor! That diagnosis does you little credit!" the Pastor
+concluded, with a tranquil smile.
+
+"Well, well, there's no harm done!" said the old Doctor, and wrote
+a prescription which was at least innocuous. He knew of no simples
+to cure love-sorrows; but in his heart of hearts he held to his
+diagnosis.
+
+The visit of the Doctor had frightened Rebecca. She now kept still
+stricter watch upon herself, and redoubled her exertions to seem as
+before. For no one must suspect what had happened: that a young
+man, an utter stranger, had held her in his arms and kissed her--
+over and over again!
+
+As often as she realized this the blood rushed to her cheeks. She
+washed herself ten times in the day, yet it seemed she could never
+be clean.
+
+For what was it that had happened? Was it of the last extremity of
+shame? Was she now any better than the many wretched girls whose
+errors she had shuddered to think of, and had never been able to
+understand? Ah, if there were only any one she could question! If
+she could only unburden her mind of all the doubt and uncertainty
+that tortured her; learn clearly what she had done; find out if she
+had still the right to look her father in the face--or if she were
+the most miserable of all sinners.
+
+Her father often asked her if she could not confide to him what was
+weighing on her mind; for he felt that she was keeping something
+from him. But when she looked into his clear eyes, into his pure
+open face, it seemed impossible, literally impossible, to approach
+that terrible impure point and she only wept. She thought sometimes
+of that good Mrs. Hartvig's soft hand; but she was a stranger, and
+far away. So she must e'en fight out her fight in utter solitude,
+and so quietly that no one should be aware of it.
+
+And he, who was pursuing his path through life with so bright a
+countenance and so heavy a heart! Should she ever see him again?
+And if she were ever to meet him, where should she hide herself? He
+was an inseparable part of all her doubt and pain; but she felt no
+bitterness, no resentment towards him. All that she suffered bound
+her closer to him, and he was never out of her thoughts.
+
+In the daily duties of the household Rebecca was as punctual and
+careful as ever. But in everything she did he was present to her
+memory. Innunmerable spots in the house and garden recalled him to
+her thoughts; she met him in the door-ways; she remembered where he
+stood when first he spoke to her. She had never been at the King's
+Knoll since that day; it was there that he had clasped her round
+the waist, and--kissed her.
+
+The Pastor was full of solicitude about his daughter; but whenever
+the Doctor's hint occurred to him he shook his head, half angrily.
+How could he dream that a practised hand, with a well-worn trick of
+the fence, could pierce the armor of proof with which he had
+provided her?
+
+
+If the spring had been late, the autumn was early.
+
+One fine warm summer evening it suddenly began to rain. The next
+day it was still raining; and it poured incessantly, growing ever
+colder and colder, for eleven days and nights on end. At last it
+cleared up; but the next night there were four degrees of frost.
+[Note: Reaumur.]
+
+On the bushes and trees the leaves hung glued together after the
+long rain; and when the frost had dried them after its fashion,
+they fell to the ground in multitudes at every little puff of wind.
+
+The Pastor's tenant was one of the few that had got their corn in;
+and now it had to be threshed while there was water for the
+machine. The little brook in the valley rushed foaming along, as
+brown as coffee, and all the men on the farm were taken up with
+tending the machine and carting corn and straw up and down the
+Parsonage hill.
+
+The farm-yard was bestrewn with straw, and when the wind swirled in
+between the houses it seized the oat-straws by the head, raised
+them on end, and set them dancing along like yellow spectres. It
+was the juvenile autumn wind trying its strength; not until well on
+in the winter, when it has full-grown lungs, does it take to
+playing with tiles and chimney-pots.
+
+A sparrow sat crouched together upon the dog-kennel; it drew its
+head down among its feathers, blinked its eyes, and betrayed no
+interest in anything. But in reality it noted carefully where the
+corn was deposited. In the great sparrow-battle of the spring it
+had been in the very centre of the ball, and had pecked and
+screamed with the best of them. But it had sobered down since then;
+it thought of its wife and children, and reflected how good it was
+to have something in reserve against the winter.
+
+--Ansgarius looked forward to the winter--to perilous expeditions
+through the snow-drifts and pitch-dark evenings with thundering
+breakers. He already turned to account the ice which lay on the
+puddles after the frosty nights, by making all his tin soldiers,
+with two brass cannons, march out upon it. Stationed upon an
+overturned bucket, he watched the ice giving way, little by little,
+until the whole army was immersed, and only the wheels of the
+cannons remained visible. Then he shouted, "Hurrah!" and swung his
+cap.
+
+"What are you shouting about?" asked the Pastor, who happened to
+pass through the farm-yard.
+
+"I'm playing at Austerlitz!" answered Ansgarius, beaming.
+
+The father passed on, sighing mournfully; he could not understand
+his children.
+
+--Down in the garden sat Rebecca on a bench in the sun. She looked
+out over the heather, which was in purple flower, while the meadows
+were putting on their autumn pallor.
+
+The lapwings were gathering in silence, and holding flying drills
+in preparation for their journey; wad all the strand birds were
+assembling, in order to take flight together. Even the lark had
+lost its courage and was seeking convoy voiceless and unknown among
+the other gray autumn birds. But the sea-gull stalked peaceably
+about, protruding its crop; it was not under notice to quit.
+
+The air was so still and languid and hazy. All sounds and colors
+were toning down against the winter, and that vas very pleasant to
+her.
+
+She was weary, and the long dead winter would suit her well. She
+knew that her winter would be longer than all the others, and she
+began to shrink from the spring.
+
+Then everything would awaken that the winter had laid to sleep. The
+birds would come back and sing the old songs with new voices; and
+upon the King's Knoll her mother's violets would peer forth afresh
+in azure clusters; it was there that he had clasped her round the
+waist and kissed her--over and over again.
+
+
+
+THE PEAT MOOR.
+
+High over the heathery wastes flew a wise old raven.
+
+He was bound many miles westward, right out to the sea-coast, to
+unearth a sow's ear which he had buried in the good times.
+
+It was now late autumn, and food was scarce.
+
+When you see one raven, says Father Brehm, you need only look round
+to discover a second.
+
+But you might have looked long enough where this wise old raven
+came flying; he was, and remained, alone. And without troubling
+about anything or uttering a sound, he sped on his strong
+coal-black wings through the dense rain-mist, steering due west.
+
+But as he flew, evenly and meditatively, his sharp eyes searched
+the landscape beneath, and the old bird was full of chagrin.
+
+Year by year the little green and yellow patches down there
+increased in number and size; rood after rood was cut out of the
+heathery waste, little houses sprang up with red-tiled roofs and
+low chimneys breathing oily peat-reek. Men and their meddling
+everywhere!
+
+He remembered how, in the days of his youth--several winters ago,
+of course--this was the very place for a wide-awake raven with a
+family: long, interminable stretches of heather, swarms of leverets
+and little birds, eider-ducks on the shore with delicious big eggs,
+and tidbits of all sorts abundant as heart could desire.
+
+Now he saw house upon house, patches of yellow corn-land and green
+meadows; and food was so scarce that a gentlemanly old raven had to
+fly miles and miles for a paltry sow's ear.
+
+Oh, those men! those men! The old bird knew them.
+
+He had grown up among men, and, what was more, among the
+aristocracy. He had passed his childhood and youth at the great
+house close to the town.
+
+But now, whenever he passed over the house, he soared high into the
+air, so as not to be recognized. For when he saw a female figure
+down in the garden, he thought it was the young lady of the house,
+wearing powdered hair and a white head-dress; whereas it was in
+reality her daughter, with snow-white curls and a widow's cap.
+
+Had he enjoyed his life among the aristocracy? Oh, that's as you
+please to look at it. There was plenty to eat and plenty to learn;
+but, after all, it was captivity. During the first years his left
+wing was clipped, and afterwards, as his old master used to say, he
+was upon _parole d'honneur_.
+
+This parole he had broken one spring when a glossy-black young
+she-raven happened to fly over the garden.
+
+Some time afterwards--a few winters had slipped away--he came back
+to the house. But some strange boys threw stones at him; the old
+master and the young lady were not at home.
+
+"No doubt they are in town," thought the old raven; and he came
+again some time later. But he met with just the same reception.
+
+Then the gentlemenly old bird--for in the meantime he had grown
+old--felt hurt, and now he flew high over the house. He would have
+nothing more to do with men, and the old master and the young lady
+might look for him as long as they pleased. That they did so he
+never doubted.
+
+And he forgot all that he had learned, both the difficult French
+words which the young lady taught him in the drawing-room, and the
+incomparably easier expletives which he had picked up on his own
+account in the servants' hall.
+
+Only two human sounds clung to his memory, the last relics of his
+vanished learning. When he was in a thoroughly good humor, he would
+often say, "Bonjour, madame!" But when he was angry, he shrieked,
+"Go to the devil!"
+
+Through the dense rain-mist he sped swiftly and unswervingly;
+already he saw the white wreath of surf along the coast. Then he
+descried a great black waste stretching out beneath him. It was a
+peat moor.
+
+It was encircled with farms on the heights around; but on the low
+plain--it must have been over a mile [Note: One Norwegian mile is
+equal to seven English miles.] long--there was no trace of human
+meddling; only a few stacks of peat on the outskirts, with black
+hummocks and gleaming water-holes between them.
+
+"Bonjour, madame!" cried the old raven, and began to wheel in great
+circles over the moor. It looked so inviting that he settled
+downward, slowly and warily, and alighted upon a tree-root in the
+midst of it.
+
+Here it was just as in the old days-a silent wilderness. On some
+scattered patches of drier soil there grew a little short heather
+and a few clumps of rushes. They were withered; but on their stiff
+stems there still hung one or two tufts--black, and sodden by the
+autumn rain. For the most part the soil was fine, black, and
+crumbling--wet and full of water-holes. Gray and twisted tree-roots
+stuck up above the surface, interlaced like a gnarled net-work.
+
+The old raven well understood all that he saw. There had been trees
+here in the old times, before even his day.
+
+The wood had disappeared; branches, leaves, everything was gone.
+Only the tangled roots remained, deep down in the soft mass of
+black fibres and water.
+
+But further than this, change could not possibly go; so it must
+endure, and here, at any rate, men would have to stint their
+meddling.
+
+The old bird held himself erect. The farms lay so far away that he
+felt securely at home, here in the middle of the bottomless morass.
+One relic, at least, of antiquity must remain undisturbed. He
+smoothed his glossy black feathers, and said several times,
+"Bonjour, madame!"
+
+But down from the nearest farm came a couple of men with a horse
+and cart; two small boys ran behind. They took a crooked course
+among the hummocks, but made as though to cross the morass.
+
+"They must soon stop," thought the raven.
+
+But they drew nearer and nearer; the old bird turned his head
+uneasily from side to side; it was strange that they should venture
+so far out.
+
+At last they stopped, and the men set to work with spades and axes.
+The raven could see that they were struggling with a huge root
+which they wanted to loosen.
+
+"They will soon tire of that," thought the raven.
+
+But they did not tire, they hacked with their axes--the sharpest
+the raven had ever seen--they dug and hauled, and at last they
+actually got the huge stem turned over on its side, so that the
+whole tough net-work of roots stood straight up in the air.
+
+The small boys wearied of digging canals between the water-holes.
+"Look at that great big crow over there," said one of them.
+
+They armed themselves with a stone in each hand, and came sneaking
+forward behind the hummocks.
+
+The raven saw them quite well. But that was not the worst thing it
+saw.
+
+Not even out on the morass was antiquity to be left in peace. He
+had now seen that even the gray tree-roots, older than the oldest
+raven, and firmly inwoven into the deep, bottomless morass--that
+even they had to yield before the sharp axes.
+
+And when the boys had got so near that they were on the point of
+opening fire, he raised his heavy wings and soared aloft.
+
+But as he rose into the air and looked down upon the toiling men
+and the stupid boys, who stood gaping at him with a stone in each
+hand, a great wrath seized the old bird.
+
+He swooped down upon the boys like an eagle, and while his great
+wings flounced about their ears, he shrieked in a terrible voice,
+"Go to the devil!"
+
+The boys gave a yell and threw themselves down upon the ground.
+When they presently ventured to look up again, all was still and
+deserted as before. Far away, a solitary blackbird winged to the
+westward.
+
+But till they grew to be men--aye, even to their dying day--they
+were firmly convinced that the Evil One himself had appeared to
+them out on the black morass, in the form of a monstrous black bird
+with eyes of fire.
+
+But it was only an old raven, flying westward to unearth a sow's
+ear which it had buried.
+
+
+
+"HOPE'S CLAD IN APRIL GREEN."
+
+"You're kicking up the dust!" cried Cousin Hans.
+
+Ola did not hear.
+
+"He's quite as deaf as Aunt Maren," thought Hans. "You're kicking
+up the dust!" he shouted, louder.
+
+"Oh, I beg your pardon!" said Cousin Ola, and lifted his feet high
+in air at every step. Not for all the world would he do anything to
+annoy his brother; he had too much on his conscience already.
+
+Was he not at this very moment thinking of her whom he knew that
+his brother loved? And was it not sinful of him to be unable to
+conquer a passion which, besides being a wrong towards his own
+brother, was so utterly hopeless?
+
+Cousin Ola took himself sternly to task, and while he kept to the
+other side of the way, so as not to make a dust, he tried with all
+his might to think of the most indifferent things. But however far
+away his thoughts might start, they always returned by the
+strangest short-cuts to the forbidden point, and began once more to
+flutter around it, like moths around a candle.
+
+The brothers, who were paying a holiday visit to their uncle, the
+Pastor, were now on their way to the Sheriff's house, where there
+was to be a dancing-party for young people. There were many
+students paying visits in the neighborhood, so that these parties
+passed like an epidemic from house to house.
+
+Cousin Hans was thus in his very element; he sang, he danced, he
+was entertaining from morning to night; and if his tone had been a
+little sharp when he declared that Ola was kicking up the dust, it
+was really because of his annoyance at being unable, by any means,
+to screw his brother up to the same pitch of hilarity.
+
+We already know what was oppressing Ola. But even under ordinary
+circumstances he was more quiet and retiring than his brother. He
+danced "like a pair of nut-crackers," said Hans; he could not sing
+at all (Cousin Hans even declared that his speaking voice was
+monotonous and unsympathetic); and, in addition to all this, he was
+rather absent and ill-at-ease in the society of ladies.
+
+As they approached the Sheriff's house, they heard a carriage
+behind them.
+
+"That's the Doctor's people," said Hans, placing himself in
+position for bowing; for the beloved one was the daughter of the
+district physician.
+
+"Oh, how lovely she is--in light pink!" said Cousin Hans.
+
+Cousin Ola saw at once that the beloved one was in light green; but
+he dared not say a word lest he should betray himself by his voice,
+for his heart was in his throat.
+
+The carriage passed at full speed; the young men bowed, and the old
+Doctor cried out, "Come along!"
+
+"Why, I declare, that was she in light green!" said Cousin Hans; he
+had barely had time to transfer his burning glance from the
+light-pink frock to the light-green. "But wasn't she lovely, Ola?"
+
+"Oh yes," answered Ola with an effort.
+
+"What a cross-grained being you are!" exclaimed Hans, indignantly.
+"But even if you're devoid of all sense for female beauty, I think
+you might at least show more interest in--in your brother's future
+wife."
+
+"If you only knew how she interests me," thought the nefarious Ola,
+hanging his head.
+
+But meanwhile this delightful meeting had thrown Hans into an
+ecstatic mood of amorous bliss; he swung his stick, snapped his
+fingers, and sang at the pitch of his voice.
+
+As he thought of the fair one in the light-green frock--fresh as
+spring, airy as a butterfly, he called it--the refrain of an old
+ditty rose to his lips, and he sang it with great enjoyment:
+
+    "Hope's clad in April green--
+       Trommelommelom, trommelommelom,
+     Tender it's vernal sheen--
+       Trommelommelom, trommelommelom."
+
+This verse seemed to him eminently suited to the situation, and he
+repeated it over and over again--now in the waltz-time of the old
+melody, now as a march, and again as a serenade--now in loud,
+jubilant tones, and then half whispering, as if he were confiding
+his love and his hope to the moon and the silent groves.
+
+Cousin Ola was almost sick; for, great as was his respect for his
+brother's singing, he became at last so dog-tired of this
+April-green hope and this eternal "Trommelommelom" that it was a
+great relief to him when they at last arrived at the Sheriff's.
+
+The afternoon passed as it always does on such occasions; they all
+enjoyed themselves mightily. For most of them were in love, and
+those who were not found almost a greater pleasure in keeping an
+eye upon those who were.
+
+Some one proposed a game of "La Grace" in the garden. Cousin Hans
+rushed nimbly about and played a thousand pranks, threw the game
+into confusion, and paid his partner all sorts of attentions.
+
+Cousin Ola stood at his post and gave his whole mind to his task;
+he caught the ring and sent it off again with never failing
+precision. Ola would have enjoyed himself, too, if only his
+conscience had not so bitterly upbraided him for his nefarious love
+for his brother's "future wife."
+
+When the evening began to grow cool the party went in-doors, and
+the dancing began.
+
+Ola did not dance much at any time, but to-day he was not at all in
+the humor. He occupied himself in observing Hans, who spent the
+whole evening in worshipping his lady-love. A spasm shot through
+Ola's heart when he saw the light-green frock whirl away in his
+brother's arms, and it seemed to him that they danced every dance
+together.
+
+At last came the time for breaking up. Most of the older folks had
+already taken their departure in their respective carriages, the
+young people having resolved to see each other home in the
+delicious moonlight.
+
+But when the last galop was over, the hostess would not hear of the
+young ladies going right out into the evening air, while they were
+still warm with dancing. She therefore decreed half an hour for
+cooling down, and, to occupy this time in the pleasantest manner,
+she begged Cousin Hans to sing a little song.
+
+He was ready at once, he was not one of those foolish people who
+require pressing; he knew quite well the value of his talent.
+
+There was, however, this peculiarity about Hans's singing, or
+rather about its reception, that opinion was more than usually
+divided as to its merits. By three persons in the world his
+execution was admired as something incomparable. These three
+persons were, first, Cousin Ola, then Aunt Maren, and lastly Cousin
+Hans himself. Then there was a large party which thought it great
+fun to hear Cousin Hans sing. "He always makes something out of
+it." But lastly there came a few evil-disposed people who asserted
+that he could neither sing nor play.
+
+It was with respect to the latter point, the accompaniment, that
+Cousin Ola always cherished a secret reproach against his brother--
+the only shadow upon his admiration for him.
+
+He knew how much labor it had cost both Hans himself and his
+sisters to get him drilled in these accompaniments, especially in
+the three minor chords with which he always finished up, and which
+he practised beforehand every time he went to a party.
+
+So, when he saw his brother seated at the piano, letting his
+fingers run lightly and carelessly over the key-board, and then
+looking up to the ceiling and muttering, "What key is it in again?"
+as if he were searching for the right one, a shiver always ran
+through Cousin Ola. For he knew that Hans had mastered three
+accompaniments, and no more--one minor and two major.
+
+And when the singer, before rising from the piano, threw in these
+three carefully-practised minor chords so lightly, and with such an
+impromptu air, as if his fingers had instinctively chanced upon
+them, then Ola shook his head and said to himself, "This is not
+quite straightforward of Hans."
+
+In the mean time his brother sang away at his rich repertory.
+Schumann and Kierulf were his favorites, so he performed _"Du bist
+die Ruh," "My loved one, I am prison'd" "Ich grolle nicht," "Die
+alten boesen Lieder," "I lay my all, love, at thy feet," "Aus meiren
+grossen Schmerzen mach' ich die kleinen Lieder"_--all with the same
+calm superiority, and that light, half-sportive accompaniment. The
+only thing that gave him a little trouble was that fatal point,
+_"Ich legt' auch meine Liebe, Und meinen Schmerz hinein;"_ but even
+of this he made something.
+
+Then Ola, who knew to a nicety the limits of his brother's musical
+accomplishment, noticed that he was leaving the beaten track, and
+beginning to wander among the keys; and presently he was horrified
+to find that Hans was groping after that unhappy "Hope's clad in
+April green." But fortunately he could not hit upon it, so he
+confined himself to humming the song half aloud, while he threw in
+the three famous minor chords.
+
+"Now we're quite cool again," cried the fair one in light green,
+hastily.
+
+There was a general burst of laughter at her eagerness to get away,
+and she was quite crimson when she said good-night.
+
+Cousin Ola, who was standing near the hostess, also took his leave.
+Cousin Hans, on the other hand, was detained by the Sheriff, who
+was anxious to learn under what teachers he had studied music; and
+that took time.
+
+Thus it happened that Ola and the fair one in the light green
+passed out into the passage at the same time. There the young folks
+were crowding round the hat-pegs, some to find their own wraps,
+some to take down other people's.
+
+"I suppose it's no good trying to push our way forward," said the
+fair one.
+
+Ola's windpipe contracted in such a vexatious way that he only
+succeeded in uttering a meaningless sound. They stood close to each
+other in the crush, and Ola would gladly have given a finger to be
+able to say something pleasant to her, or at least something
+rational; but he found it quite impossible.
+
+"Of course you've enjoyed the evening?" said she, in a friendly tone.
+
+Cousin Ola thought of the pitiful part he had been playing all
+evening; his unsociableness weighed so much upon his mind that he
+answered--the very stupidest thing he could have answered, he
+thought, the moment the words were out of his lips--"I'm so sorry
+that I can't sing."
+
+"I suppose it's a family failing," answered the fair one, with a
+rapid glance.
+
+"N-n-no," said Ola, exceedingly put out, "my brother sings
+capitally."
+
+"Do you think so?" she said, drily.
+
+This was the most astounding thing that had ever happened to Ola:
+that there could be more than one opinion about his brother's
+singing, and that she, his "future wife," did not seem to admire
+it! And yet it was not quite unpleasant to him to hear it.
+
+Again there was a silence, which Ola sought in vain to break.
+
+"Don't you care for dancing?" she asked.
+
+"Not with every one," he blurted out.
+
+She laughed: "No, no; but gentlemen have the right to choose."
+
+Now Ola began to lose his footing. He felt like a man who is
+walking, lost in thought, through the streets on a winter evening,
+and who suddenly discovers that he has got upon a patch of slippery
+ice. There was nothing for it but to keep up and go ahead; so, with
+the courage of despair, he said "If I knew--or dared to hope--that
+one of the ladies--no--that the lady I wanted to dance with--that
+she would care to--hm--that she would dance with me, then--then--"
+he could get no further, and after saying "then" two or three times
+over, he came to a stand-still.
+
+"You could ask her," said the fair one.
+
+Her bracelet had come unfastened, and its clasp was so stiff that
+she had to bend right forward and pinch it so hard that she became
+quite red in the face, in order to fasten it again.
+
+"Would you, for example, dance with me?" Ola's brain was swimming.
+
+"Why not?" she answered. She stood pressing the point of her shoe
+into a crack in the floor.
+
+"We're to have a party at the Parsonage on Friday--would you give
+me a dance then?"
+
+"With pleasure; which would you like?" she answered, trying her
+best to assume a "society" manner.
+
+"A quadrille?" said Ola; thinking: "Quadrilles are so long."
+
+"The second quadrille is disengaged," answered the lady.
+
+"And a galop?"
+
+"Yes, thank you; the first galop," she replied, with a little
+hesitation.
+
+"And a polka?"
+
+"No, no! no more," cried the fair one, looking at Ola with alarm.
+
+At the same moment, Hans came rushing along at full speed. "Oh, how
+lucky I am to find you!--but in what company!"
+
+Thereupon he took possession of the fair one in his amiable
+fashion, and drew her away with him to find her wraps and join the
+others.
+
+"A quadrille and a galop; but no more--so so! so so!" repeated
+Cousin Ola. He stood as though rooted to the spot. At last he
+became aware that he was alone. He hastily seized a hat, slunk out
+by the back way, sneaked through the garden, and clambered with
+great difficulty over the garden fence, not far from the gate which
+stood ajar.
+
+He struck into the first foot-path through the fields, fixing his
+eyes upon the Parsonage chimneys. He was vaguely conscious that he
+was getting wet up to the knees in the long grass; but on the other
+hand, he was not in the least aware that the Sheriff's old uniform
+cap, which he had had the luck to snatch up in his haste, was
+waggling about upon his head, until at last it came to rest when
+the long peak slipped down over his ear.
+
+"A quadrille and a galop; but no more--so so! so so!--"
+
+--It was pretty well on in the night when Hans approached the
+Parsonage. He had seen the ladies of the Doctor's party home, and
+was now making up the accounts of the day as he went along.
+
+"She's a little shy; but on the whole I don't dislike that."
+
+When he left the road at the Parsonage garden, he said, "She's
+dreadfully shy--almost more than I care for."
+
+But as he crossed the farm-yard, he vowed that coy and capricious
+girls were the most intolerable creatures he knew. The thing was
+that he did not feel at all satisfied with the upshot of the day.
+Not that he for a moment doubted that she loved him; but, just on
+that account, he thought her coldness and reserve doubly annoying.
+She had never once thrown the ring to him; she had never once
+singled him out in the cotillion; and on the way home she had
+talked to every one but him. But he would adopt a different policy
+the next time; she should soon come to repent that day.
+
+He slipped quietly into the house, so that his uncle might not hear
+how late he was. In order to reach his own and his brother's
+bedroom he had to pass through a long attic. A window in this attic
+was used by the young men as a door through which to reach a sort
+of balcony, formed by the canopy over the steps leading into the
+garden.
+
+Cousin Hans noticed that this window was standing open; and out
+upon the balcony, in the clear moonlight, he saw his brother's
+figure.
+
+Ola still wore his white dancing-gloves; he held on to the railing
+with both hands, and stared the moon straight in the face.
+
+Cousin Hans could not understand what his brother was doing out
+there at that time of night; and least of all could he understand
+what had induced him to put a flower-pot on his head.
+
+"He must be drunk," thought Hans, approaching him warily.
+
+Then he heard his brother muttering something about a quadrille and
+a galop; after which he began to make some strange motions with his
+hands.
+
+Cousin Hans received the impression that he was trying to snap his
+fingers; and presently Ola said, slowly, and clearly, in his
+monotonous and unsympathetic speaking voice: "Hope's clad in April
+green--trommelommelom, trommelommelom;" you see, poor fellow, he
+could not sing.
+
+
+
+AT THE FAIR.
+
+It was by the merest chance that Monsieur and Madame Tousseau came
+to Saint-Germain-en-Laye in the early days of September.
+
+Four weeks ago they had been married in Lyons, which was their
+home; but where they had passed these four weeks they really could
+not have told you. The time had gone hop skip-and-jump; a couple of
+days had entirely slipped out of their reckoning, and, on the other
+hand, they remembered a little summer-house at Fontainebleau, where
+they had rested one evening, as clearly as if they had passed half
+their lives there.
+
+Paris was, strictly speaking, the goal of their wedding journey,
+and there they established themselves in a comfortable little
+_hotel garni_. But the city was sultry and they could not rest; so
+they rambled about among the small towns in the neighborhood, and
+found themselves, one Sunday at noon, in Saint-Germain.
+
+"Monsieur and Madame have doubtless come to take part in the fete?"
+said the plump little landlady of the Hotel Henri Quatre, as she
+ushered her guests up the steps.
+
+The fete? They knew of no fete in the world except their own wedded
+happiness; but they did not say so to the landlady.
+
+They soon learned that they had been lucky enough to drop into the
+very midst of the great and celebrated fair which is held every
+year, on the first Sunday of September, in the Forest of
+Saint-Germain.
+
+The young couple were highly delighted with their good hap. It
+seemed as though Fortune followed at their heels, or rather ran
+ahead of them, to arrange surprises. After a delicious tete-a-tete
+dinner behind one of the clipped yew trees in the quaint garden,
+they took a carriage and drove off to the forest.
+
+In the hotel garden, beside the little fountain in the middle of
+the lawn, sat a ragged condor which the landlord had bought to
+amuse his guests. It was attached to its perch by a good strong
+rope. But when the sun shone upon it with real warmth, it fell
+a-thinking of the snow-peaks of Peru, of mighty wing-strokes over
+the deep valleys--and then it forgot the rope.
+
+Two vigorous strokes with its pinions would bring the rope up taut,
+and it would fall back upon the sward. There it would lie by the
+hour, then shake itself and clamber up to its little perch again.
+
+When it turned its head to watch the happy pair, Madame Tousseau
+burst into a fit of laughter at its melancholy mien.
+
+The afternoon sun glimmered through the dense foliage of the
+interminable straight-ruled avenue that skirts the terrace. The
+young wife's veil fluttered aloft as they sped through the air, and
+wound itself right round Monsieur's head. It took a long time to
+put it in order again, and Madame's hat had to be adjusted ever so
+often. Then came the relighting of Monsieur's cigar, and that, too,
+was quite a business; for Madame's fan would always give a suspicious
+little flirt every time the match was lighted; then a penalty had
+to be paid, and that, again, took time.
+
+The aristocratic English family which was passing the summer at
+Saint-Germain was disturbed in its regulation walk by the passing
+of the gay little equipage. They raised their correct gray or blue
+eyes; there was neither contempt nor annoyance in their look--only
+the faintest shade of surprise. But the condor followed the
+carriage with its eyes, until it became a mere black speck at the
+vanishing-point of the straight-ruled interminable avenue.
+
+"La joyeuse fete des Loges" is a genuine fair, with gingerbread
+cakes, sword-swallowers, and waffles piping hot. As the evening
+falls, colored lamps and Chinese lanterns are lighted around the
+venerable oak which stands in the middle of the fairground, and
+boys climb about among its topmost branches with maroons and Bengal
+lights.
+
+Gentlemen of an inventive turn of mind go about with lanterns on
+their hats, on their sticks, and wherever they can possibly hang;
+and the most inventive of all strolls around with his sweetheart
+under a great umbrella, with a lantern dancing from each rib.
+
+On the outskirts, bonfires are lighted; fowls are roasted on spits,
+while potatoes are cut into slices and fried in dripping. Each
+aroma seems to have its amateurs, for there are always people
+crowding round; but the majority stroll up and down the long street
+of booths.
+
+Monsieur and Madame Tousseau had plunged into all the fun of the
+fair. They had gambled in the most lucrative lottery in Europe,
+presided over by a man who excelled in dubious witticisms. They had
+seen the fattest goose in the world, and the celebrated flea,
+"Bismarch," who could drive six horses. Furthermore, they had
+purchased gingerbread, shot at a target for clay pipes and
+soft-boiled eggs, and finally had danced a waltz in the spacious
+dancing-tent.
+
+They had never had such fun in their lives. There were no great
+people there--at any rate, none greater than themselves. As they
+did not know a soul, they smiled to every one, and when they met
+the same person twice they laughed and nodded to him.
+
+They were charmed with everything. They stood outside the great
+circus and ballet marquees and laughed at the shouting buffoons.
+Scraggy mountebanks performed on trumpets, and young girls with
+well-floured shoulders smiled alluringly from the platforms.
+
+Monsieur Tousseau's purse was never at rest; but they did not grow
+impatient of the perpetual claims upon it. On the contrary, they
+only laughed at the gigantic efforts these people would make to
+earn--perhaps half a franc, or a few centimes.
+
+Suddenly they encountered a face they knew. It was a young American
+whom they had met at the hotel in Paris.
+
+"Well, Monsieur Whitmore!" cried Madame Tousseau, gayly, "here at
+last you've found a place where you can't possibly help enjoying
+yourself."
+
+"For my part," answered the American, slowly, "I find no enjoyment
+in seeing the people who haven't money making fools of themselves
+to please the people who have."
+
+"Oh, you're incorrigible!" laughed the young wife. "But I must
+compliment you on the excellent French you are speaking to-day."
+
+After exchanging a few more words, they lost each other in the
+crowd; Mr. Whitmore was going back to Paris immediately.
+
+Madame Tousseau's compliment was quite sincere. As a rule the grave
+American talked deplorable French, but the answer he had made to
+Madame was almost correct. It seemed as though it had been well
+thought out in advance--as though a whole series of impressions had
+condensed themselves into these words. Perhaps that was why his
+answer sank so deep into the minds of Monsieur and Madame Tousseau.
+
+Neither of them thought it a particularly brilliant remark; on the
+contrary, they agreed that it must be miserable to take so gloomy a
+view of things. But, nevertheless, his words left something
+rankling. They could not laugh so lightly as before, Madame felt
+tired, and they began to think of getting homewards.
+
+Just as they turned to go down the long street of booths in order
+to find their carriage, they met a noisy crew coming upward.
+
+"Let us take the other way," said Monsieur.
+
+They passed between two booths, and emerged at the back of one of
+the rows. They stumbled over the tree-roots before their eyes got
+used to the uncertain light which fell in patches between the
+tents. A dog, which lay gnawing at something or other, rose with a
+snarl, and dragged its prey further into the darkness, among the
+trees.
+
+On this side the booths were made up of old sails and all sorts of
+strange draperies. Here and there light shone through the openings,
+and at one place Madame distinguished a face she knew.
+
+It was the man who had sold her that incomparable gingerbread--
+Monsieur had half of it still in his pocket.
+
+But it was curious to see the gingerbread-man from this side. Here
+was something quite different from the smiling obsequiousness which
+had said so many pretty things to her pretty face, and had been so
+unwearied in belauding the gingerbread--which really was excellent.
+
+Now he sat crouched together, eating some indescribable mess out of
+a checked pocket-handkerchief--eagerly, greedily, without looking
+up.
+
+Farther down they heard a muffled conversation. Madame was bent
+upon peeping in; Monsieur objected, but he had to give in.
+
+An old mountebank sat counting a handful of coppers, grumbling and
+growling the while. A young girl stood before him, shivering and
+pleading for pardon; she was wrapped in a long water-proof.
+
+The man swore, and stamped on the ground. Then she threw off the
+water-proof and stood half naked in a sort of ballet costume.
+Without saying a word, and without smoothing her hair or preening
+her finery, she mounted the little steps that led to the stage.
+
+At that moment she turned and looked at her father. Her face had
+already put on the ballet-simper, but it now gave place to a quite
+different expression. The mouth remained fixed, but the eyes tried,
+for a second, to send him a beseeching smile. The mountebank
+shrugged his shoulders, and held out his hand with the coppers; the
+girl turned, ducked under the curtain, and was received with shouts
+and applause.
+
+Beside the great oak-tree the lottery man was holding forth as
+fluently as ever. His witticisms, as the darkness thickened, grew
+less and less dubious. There was a different ring, too, in the
+laughter of the crowd; the men were noisier, the mountebanks
+leaner, the women more brazen, the music falser--so it seemed, at
+least, to Madame and Monsieur.
+
+As they passed the dancing-tent the racket of a quadrille reached
+their ears. "Great heavens!--was it really there that we danced?"
+said Madame, and nestled closer to her husband.
+
+They made their way through the rout as quickly as they could; they
+would soon reach their carriage, it was just beyond the
+circus-marquee. It would be nice to rest and escape from all this
+hubbub.
+
+The platform in front of the circus-marquee was now vacant. Inside,
+in the dim and stifling rotunda, the performance was in full swing.
+
+Only the old woman who sold the tickets sat asleep at her desk. And
+a little way off, in the light of her lamp, stood a tiny boy.
+
+He was dressed in tights, green on one side, red on the other; on
+his head he had a fool's cap with horns.
+
+Close up to the platform stood a woman wrapped in a black shawl.
+She seemed to be talking to the boy.
+
+He advanced his red leg and his green leg by turns, and drew them
+back again. At last he took three steps forward on his meagre
+shanks and held out his hand to the woman.
+
+She took what he had in it, and disappeared into the darkness.
+
+He stood motionless for a moment, then he muttered some words and
+burst into tears.
+
+Presently he stopped, and said: "Maman m'a pris mon sou!"--and fell
+to weeping again.
+
+He dried his eyes and left off for a time, but as often as he
+repeated to himself his sad little history--how his mother had
+taken his sou from him--he was seized with another and a bitterer
+fit of weeping.
+
+He stooped and buried his face in the curtain. The stiff, wrinkly
+oil-painting must be hard and cold to cry into. The little body
+shrank together; he drew his green leg close up under him, and
+stood like a stork upon the red one.
+
+No one on the other side of the curtain must hear that he was
+crying. Therefore he did not sob like a child, but fought as a man
+fights against a broken heart.
+
+When the attack was over, he blew his nose with his fingers, and
+wiped them on his tights. With the dirty curtain he had dabbled the
+tears all over his face until it was streaked with black; and in
+this guise, and dry-eyed, he gazed for a moment over the fair.
+
+Then: "Maman m'a pris mon sou"--and he set off again.
+
+The backsweep of the wave leaves the beach dry for an instant while
+the next wave is gathering. Thus sorrow swept in heavy surges over
+the little childish heart.
+
+His dress was so ludicrous, his body so meagre, his weeping was so
+wofully bitter, and his suffering so great and man-like--
+
+--But at home at the hotel--the Pavillon Henri Quatre, where the
+Queens of France condescended to be brought to bed there the condor
+sat and slept upon its perch.
+
+And it dreamed its dream--its only dream--its dream about the
+snow-peaks of Peru and the mighty wing-strokes over the deep
+valleys; and then it forgot its rope.
+
+It uplifted its ragged pinions vigorously, and struck two sturdy
+strokes. Then the rope drew taut, and it fell back where it was
+wont to fall--it wrenched its claw, and the dream vanished.--
+
+--Next morning the aristocratic English family was much concerned,
+and the landlord himself felt annoyed, for the condor lay dead upon
+the grass.
+
+
+
+TWO FRIENDS.
+
+No one could understand where he got his money from. But the person
+who marvelled most at the dashing and luxurious life led by
+Alphonse was his quondam friend and partner.
+
+After they dissolved partnership, most of the custom and the best
+connection passed by degrees into Charles's hands. This was not
+because he in any way sought to run counter to his former partner;
+on the contrary, it arose simply from the fact that Charles was the
+more capable man of the two. And as Alphonse had now to work on his
+own account, it was soon clear to any one who observed him closely,
+that in spite of his promptitude, his amiability and his
+prepossessing appearance, he was not fitted to be at the head of an
+independent business.
+
+And there was one person who _did_ observe him closely. Charles
+followed him step by step with his sharp eyes; every blunder, every
+extravagance, every loss he knew all to a nicety, and he wondered
+that Alphonse could keep going so long.
+
+--They had as good as grown up together. Their mothers were
+cousins; the families had lived near each other in the same street;
+and in a city like Paris proximity is as important as relationship
+in promoting close intercourse. Moreover, the boys went to the same
+school.
+
+Thenceforth, as they grew up to manhood, they were inseparable.
+Mutual adaptation overcame the great differences which originally
+marked their characters, until at last their idiosyncrasies fitted
+into each other like the artfully-carved pieces of wood which
+compose the picture-puzzles of our childhood.
+
+The relation between them was really a beautiful one, such as does
+not often arise between two young men; for they did not understand
+friendship as binding the one to bear everything at the hands of
+the other, but seemed rather to vie with each other in mutual
+considerateness.
+
+If, however, Alphonse in his relation to Charles showed any high
+degree of considerateness, he him self was ignorant of it; and if
+any one had told him of it he would doubtless have laughed loudly
+at such a mistaken compliment.
+
+For as life on the whole appeared to him very simple and
+straightforward, the idea that his friendship should in any way
+fetter him was the last thing that could enter his head. That
+Charles was his best friend seemed to him as entirely natural as
+that he himself danced best, rode best, was the best shot, and that
+the whole world was ordered entirely to his mind.
+
+Alphonse was in the highest degree a spoilt child of fortune; he
+acquired everything without effort; existence fitted him like an
+elegant dress, and he wore it with such unconstrained amiability
+that people forgot to envy him.
+
+And then he was so handsome. He was tall and slim, with brown hair
+and big open eyes; his complexion was clear and smooth, and his
+teeth shone when he laughed. He was quite conscious of his beauty,
+but, as everybody had petted him from his earliest days, his vanity
+was of a cheerful, good-natured sort, which, after all, was not so
+offensive. He was exceedingly fond of his friend. He amused himself
+and sometimes others by teasing him and making fun of him; but he
+knew Charles's face so thoroughly that he saw at once when the jest
+was going too far. Then he would resume his natural, kindly tone,
+until he made the serious and somewhat melancholy Charles laugh
+till he was ill.
+
+From his boyhood Charles had admired Alphonse beyond measure. He
+himself was small and insignificant, quiet and shy. His friend's
+brilliant qualities cast a lustre over him as well, and gave a
+certain impetus to his life.
+
+His mother often said: "This friendship between the boys is a real
+blessing for my poor Charles, for without it he would certainly
+have been a melancholy creature."
+
+When Alphonse was on all occasions preferred to him, Charles
+rejoiced; he was proud of his friend. He wrote his exercises,
+prompted him at examination, pleaded his cause with the masters,
+and fought for him with the boys.
+
+At the commercial academy it was the same story. Charles worked for
+Alphonse, and Alphonse rewarded him with his inexhaustible
+amiability and unfailing good-humor.
+
+When subsequently, as quite young men, they were placed in the same
+banker's office, it happened one day that the principal said to
+Charles: "From the first of May I will raise your salary."
+
+"I thank you," answered Charles, "both on my own and on my friend's
+behalf."
+
+"Monsieur Alphonse's salary remains unaltered," replied the chief,
+and went on writing.
+
+Charles never forgot that morning. It was the first time he had
+been preferred or distinguished before his friend. And it was his
+commercial capacity, the quality which, as a young man of business,
+he valued most, that had procured him this preference; and it was
+the head of the firm, the great financier, who had himself accorded
+him such recognition.
+
+The experience was so strange to him that it seemed like an
+injustice to his friend. He told Alphonse nothing of the
+occurrence; on the contrary, he proposed that they should apply for
+two vacant places in the Credit Lyonnais.
+
+Alphonse was quite willing, for he loved change, and the splendid
+new banking establishment on the, Boulevard seemed to him far more
+attractive than the dark offices in the Rue Bergere. So they
+removed to the Credit Lyonnais on the first of May. But as they
+were in the chief's office taking their leave, the old banker said
+to Charles, when Alphonse had gone out (Alphonse always took
+precedence of Charles), "Sentiment won't do for a business man."
+
+From that day forward a change went on in Charles. He not only
+worked as industriously and conscientiously as before, but
+developed such energy and such an amazing faculty for labor as soon
+attracted to him the attention of his superiors. That he was far
+ahead of his friend in business capacity was soon manifest; but
+every time he received a new mark of recognition he had a struggle
+with himself. For a long time, every advancement brought with it a
+certain qualm of conscience; and yet he worked on with restless
+ardor.
+
+One day Alphonse said, in his light, frank way: "You are really a
+smart fellow, Charlie! You're getting ahead of everybody, young and
+old--not to mention me. I'm quite proud of you!"
+
+Charles felt ashamed. He had been thinking that Alphonse must feel
+wounded at being left on one side, and now he learned that his
+friend not only did not grudge him his advancement, but was even
+proud of him. By degrees his conscience was lulled to rest, and his
+solid worth was more and more appreciated--
+
+But if he was in reality the more capable, how came it that he was
+so entirely ignored in society, while Alphonse remained everybody's
+darling? The very promotions and marks of appreciation which he had
+won for himself by hard work, were accorded him in a dry, business
+manner; while every one, from the directors to the messengers, had
+a friendly word or a merry greeting for Alphonse.
+
+In the different offices and departments of the bank they intrigued
+to obtain possession of Monsieur Alphonse; for a breath of life and
+freshness followed ever in the wake of his handsome person and
+joyous nature. Charles, on the other hand, had often remarked that
+his colleagues regarded him as a dry person, who thought only of
+business and of himself.
+
+The truth was that he had a heart of rare sensitiveness, with no
+faculty for giving it expression.
+
+Charles was one of those small, black Frenchmen whose beard begins
+right under the eyes; his complexion was yellowish and his hair
+stiff and splintery. His eyes did not dilate when he was pleased
+and animated, but they flashed around and glittered. When he
+laughed the corners of his mouth turned upward, and many a time,
+when his heart was full of joy and good-will, he had seen people
+draw back, half-frightened by his forbidding exterior. Alphonse
+alone knew him so well that he never seemed to see his ugliness;
+every one else misunderstood him. He became suspicious, and retired
+more and more within himself.
+
+In an insensible crescendo the thought grew in him: Why should he
+never attain anything of that which he most longed for--intimate
+and cordial intercourse and friendliness which should answer to
+the warmth pent up within him? Why should everyone smile to
+Alphonse with out-stretched hands, while he must content himself
+with stiff bows and cold glances!
+
+Alphonse knew nothing of all this. He was joyous and healthy,
+charmed with life and content with his daily work. He had been
+placed in the easiest and most interesting branch of the business,
+and, with his quick brain and his knack of making himself
+agreeable, he filled his place satisfactorily.
+
+His social circle was very large--every one set store by his
+acquaintance, and he was at least as popular among women as among
+men.
+
+For a time Charles accompanied Alphonse into society, until he was
+seized by a misgiving that he was invited for his friend's sake
+alone, when he at once drew back.
+
+When Charles proposed that they should set up in business together,
+Alphonse had answered: "It is too good of you to choose me. You
+could easily find a much better partner."
+
+Charles had imagined that their altered relations and closer
+association in work would draw Alphonse out of the circles which
+Charles could not now endure, and unite them more closely. For he
+had conceived a vague dread of losing his friend.
+
+He did not himself know, nor would it have been easy to decide,
+whether he was jealous of all the people who flocked around
+Alphonse and drew him to them, or whether he envied his friend's
+popularity.
+
+--They began their business prudently and energetically, and got on
+well.
+
+It was generally held that each formed an admirable complement to
+the other. Charles represented the solid, confidence-inspiring
+element, while the handsome and elegant Alphonse imparted to the
+firm a certain lustre which was far from being without value.
+
+Every one who came into the counting-house at once remarked his
+handsome figure, and thus it seemed quite natural that all should
+address themselves to him.
+
+Charles meanwhile bent over his work and let Alphonse be spokesman.
+When Alphonse asked him about anything, he answered shortly and
+quietly without looking up.
+
+Thus most people thought that Charles was a confidential clerk,
+while Alphonse was the real head of the house.
+
+As Frenchmen, they thought little about marrying, but as young
+Parisians they led a life into which erotics entered largely.
+
+Alphonse was never really in his element except when in female
+society. Then all his exhilarating amiability came into play, and
+when he leaned back at supper and held out his shallow champagne-glass
+to be refilled, he was as beautiful as a happy god.
+
+He had a neck of the kind which women long to caress, and his soft,
+half-curling hair looked as if it were negligently arranged, or
+carefully disarranged, by a woman's coquettish hand.
+
+Indeed, many slim white fingers had passed through those locks; for
+Alphonse had not only the gift of being loved by women, but also
+the yet rarer gift of being forgiven by them.
+
+When the friends were together at gay supper-parties, Alphonse paid
+no particular heed to Charles. He kept no account of his own
+love-affairs, far less of those of his friend. So it might easily
+happen that a beauty on whom Charles had cast a longing eye fell
+into the hands of Alphonse.
+
+Charles was used to seeing his friend preferred in life; but there
+are certain things to which men can scarcely accustom themselves.
+He seldom went with Alphonse to his suppers, and it was always long
+before the wine and the general exhilaration could bring him into a
+convivial humor.
+
+But then, when the champagne and the bright eyes had gone to his
+head, he would often be the wildest of all; he would sing loudly
+with his harsh voice, laugh and gesticulate so that his stiff black
+hair fell over his forehead; and then the merry ladies shrank from
+him, and called him the "chimney-sweep."
+
+--As the sentry paces up and down in the beleaguered fortress, he
+sometimes hears a strange sound in the silent night, as if
+something were rustling under his feet. It is the enemy, who has
+undermined the outworks, and to-night or to-morrow night there will
+be a hollow explosion, and armed men will storm in through the
+breach.
+
+If Charles had kept close watch over himself he would have heard
+strange thoughts rustling within him. But he would not hear--he had
+only a dim foreboding that some time there must come an explosion.
+
+--And one day it came.
+
+It was already after business hours; the clerks had all left the
+outer office, and only the principals remained behind.
+
+Charles was busily writing a letter which he wished to finish
+before he left.
+
+Alphonse had drawn on both his gloves and buttoned them. Then he
+had brushed his hat until it shone, and now he was walking up and
+down and peeping into Charles's letter every time he passed the
+desk.
+
+They used to spend an hour every day before dinner in a cafe on the
+great Boulevard, and Alphonse was getting impatient for his
+newspapers.
+
+"Will you never have finished that letter?" he said, rather
+irritably.
+
+Charles was silent a second or two, then he sprang up so that his
+chair fell over: "Perhaps Alphonse imagined that he could do it
+better? Did he not know which of them was really the man of
+business?" And now the words streamed out with that incredible
+rapidity of which the French language is capable when it is used in
+fiery passion.
+
+But it was a turbid stream, carrying with it many ugly expressions,
+upbraidings and recriminations; and through the whole there sounded
+something like a suppressed sob.
+
+As he strode up and down the room, with clenched hands and
+dishevelled hair, Charles looked like a little wiry-haired terrier
+barking at an elegant Italian greyhound. At last he seized his hat
+and rushed out.
+
+Alphonse had stood looking at him with great wondering eyes. When
+he was gone, and there was once more silence in the room, it seemed
+as though the air was still quivering with the hot words. Alphonse
+recalled them one by one, as he stood motionless beside the desk.
+
+"Did he not know which was the abler of the two?" Yes, assuredly!
+he had never denied that Charles was by far his superior.
+
+"He must not think that he would succeed in winning everything to
+himself with his smooth face." Alphonse was not conscious of ever
+having deprived his friend of anything.
+
+"I don't care for your _cocottes_," Charles had said.
+
+Could he really have been interested in the little Spanish dancer?
+If Alphonse had only had the faintest suspicion of such a thing he
+would never have looked at her. But that was nothing to get so wild
+about; there were plenty of women in Paris.
+
+And at last: "As sure as to-morrow comes, I will dissolve
+partnership!"
+
+Alphonse did not understand it at all. He left the counting-house
+and walked moodily through the streets until he met an acquaintance.
+That put other thoughts into his head; but all day he had a feeling
+as if something gloomy and uncomfortable lay in wait, ready to seize
+him so soon as he was alone.
+
+When he reached home, late at night, he found a letter from
+Charles. He opened it hastily; but it contained, instead of the
+apology he had expected, only a coldly-worded request to M.
+Alphonse to attend at the counting-house early the next morning "in
+order that the contemplated dissolution of partnership might be
+effected as quickly as possible."
+
+Now, for the first time, did Alphonse begin to understand that the
+scene in the counting-house had been more than a passing outburst
+of passion; but this only made the affair more inexplicable.
+
+And the longer he thought it over, the more clearly did he feel
+that Charles had been unjust to him. He had never been angry with
+his friend, nor was he precisely angry even now. But as he repeated
+to himself all the insults Charles had heaped upon him, his
+good-natured heart hardened; and the next morning he took his place
+in silence, after a cold "Good-morning."
+
+Although he arrived a whole hour earlier than usual, he could see
+that Charles had been working long and industriously. There they
+sat, each on his side of the desk; they spoke only the most
+indispensable words; now and then a paper passed from hand to hand,
+but they never looked each other in the face.
+
+In this way they both worked--each more busily than the other--
+until twelve o'clock, their usual luncheon-time.
+
+This hour of dejeuner was the favorite time of both. Their custom
+was to have it served in their office, and when the old
+house-keeper announced that lunch was ready, they would both rise
+at once, even if they were in the midst of a sentence or of an
+account.
+
+They used to eat standing by the fireplace or walking up and down
+in the warm, comfortable office. Alphonse had always some piquant
+stories to tell, and Charles laughed at them. These were his
+pleasantest hours.
+
+But that day, when Madame said her friendly "_Messieurs, on a
+servi_," they both remained sitting. She opened her eyes wide, and
+repeated the words as she went out, but neither moved.
+
+At last Alphonse felt hungry, went to the table, poured out a glass
+of wine and began to eat his cutlet. But as he stood there eating,
+with his glass in his hand, and looked round the dear old office
+where they had spent so many pleasant hours, and then thought that
+they were to lose all this and imbitter their lives for a whim, a
+sudden burst of passion, the whole situation appeared to him so
+preposterous that he almost burst out laughing.
+
+"Look here, Charles," he said, in the half-earnest, half-joking
+tone which always used to make Charles laugh, "it will really be
+too absurd to advertise: 'According to an amicable agreement, from
+such and such a date the firm of--'"
+
+"I have been thinking," interrupted Charles, quietly, "that we will
+put: 'According to mutual agreement.'"
+
+Alphonse laughed no more; he put down his glass, and the cutlet
+tasted bitter in his mouth.
+
+He understood that friendship was dead between them, why or
+wherefore he could not tell; but he thought that Charles was hard
+and unjust to him. He was now stiffer and colder than the other.
+
+They worked together until the business of dissolution was
+finished; then they parted.
+
+
+A considerable time passed, and the two quondam friends worked each
+in his own quarter in the great Paris. They met at the Bourse, but
+never did business with each other. Charles never worked against
+Alphonse; he did not wish to ruin him; he wished Alphonse to ruin
+himself.
+
+And Alphonse seemed likely enough to meet his friend's wishes in
+this respect. It is true that now and then he did a good stroke of
+business, but the steady industry he had learned from Charles he
+soon forgot. He began to neglect his office, and lost many good
+connections.
+
+He had always had a taste for dainty and luxurious living, but his
+association with the frugal Charles had hitherto held his
+extravagances in check. Now, on the contrary, his life became more
+and more dissipated. He made fresh acquaintances on every hand, and
+was more than ever the brilliant and popular Monsieur Alphonse; but
+Charles kept an eye on his growing debts.
+
+He had Alphonse watched as closely as possible, and, as their
+business was of the same kind, could form a pretty good estimate of
+the other's earnings. His expenses were even easier to ascertain,
+and he, soon assured himself of the fact that Alphonse was
+beginning to run into debt in several quarters.
+
+He cultivated some acquaintances about whom he otherwise cared
+nothing, merely because through them he got an insight into
+Alphonse's expensive mode of life and rash prodigality. He sought
+the same cafes and restaurants as Alphonse, but at different times;
+he even had his clothes made by the same tailor, because the
+talkative little man entertained him with complaints that Monsieur
+Alphonse never paid his bills.
+
+Charles often thought how easy it would be to buy up a part of
+Alphonse's liabilities and let them fall into the hands of a
+grasping usurer. But it would be a great injustice to suppose that
+Charles for a moment contemplated doing such a thing himself. It
+was only an idea he was fond of dwelling upon; he was, as it were,
+in love with Alphonse's debts.
+
+But things went slowly, and Charles became pale and sallow while he
+watched and waited.
+
+He was longing for the time when the people who had always looked
+down upon him should have their eyes opened, and see how little the
+brilliant and idolized Alphonse was really fit for. He wanted to
+see him humbled, abandoned by his friends, lonely and poor; and
+then--!
+
+Beyond that he really did not like to speculate; for at this point
+feelings stirred within him which he would not acknowledge.
+
+He _would_ hate his former friend; he _would_ have revenge for all
+the coldness and neglect which had been his own lot in life; and
+every time the least thought in defence of Alphonse arose in his
+mind he pushed it aside, and said, like the old banker: "Sentiment
+won't do for a business man."
+
+One day he went to his tailor's; he bought more clothes in these
+days than he absolutely needed.
+
+The nimble little man at once ran to meet him with a roll of cloth:
+"See, here is the very stuff for you. Monsieur Alphonse has had a
+whole suit made of it, and Monsieur Alphonse is a gentleman who
+knows how to dress."
+
+"I did not think that Monsieur Alphonse was one of your favorite
+customers," said Charles, rather taken by surprise.
+
+"Oh, _mon Dieu_!" exclaimed the little tailor, "you mean because I
+have once or twice mentioned that Monsieur Alphonse owed me a few
+thousand francs. It was very stupid of me to speak so. Monsieur
+Alphonse has not only paid me the trifle he was owing, but I know
+that he has also satisfied a number of other creditors. I have done
+_ce cher beau monsieur_ great injustice, and I beg you never to
+give him a hint of my stupidity."
+
+Charles was no longer listening to the chatter of the garrulous
+tailor. He soon left the shop, and went up the street quite
+absorbed in the one thought that Alphonse had paid.
+
+He thought how foolish it really was of him to wait and wait for
+the other's ruin. How easily might not the adroit and lucky
+Alphonse come across many a brilliant business opening, and make
+plenty of money without a word of it reaching Charles's ears.
+Perhaps, after all, he was getting on well. Perhaps it would end in
+people saying: "See, at last Monsieur Alphonse shows what he is fit
+for, now that he is quit of his dull and crabbed partner!"
+
+Charles went slowly up the street with his head bent. Many people
+jostled him, but he heeded not. His life seemed to him so
+meaningless, as if he had lost all that be had ever possessed--or
+had he himself cast it from him? Just then some one ran against him
+with more than usual violence. He looked up. It was an acquaintance
+from the time when he and Alphonse had been in the Credit Lyonnais.
+
+"Ah, good-day, Monsieur Charles!" cried he, "It is long since we
+met. Odd, too, that I should meet you to-day. I was just thinking
+of you this morning."
+
+"Why, may I ask?" said Charles, half-absently.
+
+"Well, you see, only to-day I saw up at the bank a paper--a bill
+for thirty or forty thousand francs--bearing both your name and
+that of Monsieur Alphonse. It astonished me, for I thought that you
+two--hm!--had done with each other."
+
+"No, we have not quite done with each other yet," said Charles,
+slowly.
+
+He struggled with all his might to keep his face calm, and asked in
+as natural a tone as he could command: "When does the bill fall
+due? I don't quite recollect."
+
+"To-morrow or the day after, I think," answered the other, who was
+a hard-worked business man, and was already in a hurry to be off.
+"It was accepted by Monsieur Alphonse."
+
+"I know that," said Charles; "but could you not manage to let _me_
+redeem the bill to-morrow? It is a courtesy--a favor I am anxious
+to do."
+
+"With pleasure. Tell your messenger to ask for me personally at the
+bank to-morrow afternoon. I will arrange it; nothing easier. Excuse
+me; I'm in a hurry. Good-bye!" and with that he ran on--
+
+--Next day Charles sat in his counting-house waiting for the
+messenger who had gone up to the bank to redeem Alphonse's bill.
+
+At last a clerk entered, laid a folded blue paper by his
+principal's side, and went out again.
+
+Not until the door was closed did Charles seize the draft, look
+swiftly round the room, and open it. He stared for a second or two
+at his name, then lay back in his chair and drew a deep breath. It
+was as he had expected--the signature was a forgery.
+
+He bent over it again. For long he sat, gazing at his own name, and
+observing how badly it was counterfeited.
+
+While his sharp eye followed every line in the letters of his name,
+he scarcely thought. His mind was so disturbed, and his feelings so
+strangely conflicting, that it was some time before he became
+conscious how much they betrayed--these bungling strokes on the
+blue paper.
+
+He felt a strange lump in his throat, his nose began to tickle a
+little, and, before he was aware of it, a big tear fell on the
+paper.
+
+He looked hastily around, took out his pocket-handkerchief, and
+carefully wiped the wet place on the bill. He thought again of the
+old banker in the Rue Bergere.
+
+What did it matter to him that Alphonse's weak character had at
+last led him to crime, and what had he lost? Nothing, for did he
+not hate his former friend? No one could say it was his fault that
+Alphonse was ruined--he had shared with him honestly, and never
+harmed him.
+
+Then his thoughts turned to Alphonse. He knew him well enough to be
+sure that when the refined, delicate Alphonse had sunk so low, he
+must have come to a jutting headland in life, and be prepared to
+leap out of it rather than let disgrace reach him.
+
+At this thought Charles sprang up. That must not be. Alphonse
+should not have time to send a bullet through his head and hide his
+shame in the mixture of compassion and mysterious horror which
+follows the suicide. Thus Charles would lose his revenge, and it
+would be all to no purpose that he had gone and nursed his hatred
+until he himself had become evil through it. Since he had forever
+lost his friend, he would at least expose his enemy, so that all
+should see what a miserable, despicable being was this charming
+Alphonse.
+
+He looked at his watch; it was half-past four. Charles knew the
+cafe in which he would find Alphonse at this hour; he pocketed the
+bill and buttoned his coat.
+
+But on the way he would call at a police-station, and hand over the
+bill to a detective, who at a sign from Charles should suddenly
+advance into the middle of the cafe where Alphonse was always
+surrounded by his friends and admirers, and say loudly and
+distinctly so that all should hear it:
+
+"Monsieur Alphonse, you are charged with forgery."
+
+
+It was raining in Paris. The day had been foggy, raw, and cold; and
+well on in the afternoon it had begun to rain. It was not a
+downpour--the water did not fall from the clouds in regular drops--
+but the clouds themselves had, as it were, laid themselves down in
+the streets of Paris and there slowly condensed into water.
+
+No matter how people might seek to shelter themselves, they got wet
+on all sides. The moisture slid down the back of your neck, laid
+itself like a wet towel about your knees, penetrated into your
+boots and far up your trousers.
+
+A few sanguine ladies were standing in the _portes cocheres_, with
+their skirts tucked up, expecting it to clear; others waited by the
+hour in the omnibus stations. But most of the stronger sex hurried
+along under their umbrellas; only a few had been sensible enough to
+give up the battle, and had turned up their collars, stuck their
+umbrellas under their arms, and their hands in their pockets.
+
+Although it was early in the autumn it was already dusk at five
+o'clock. A few gas-jets lighted in the narrowest streets, and in a
+shop here and there, strove to shine out in the thick wet air.
+
+People swarmed as usual in the streets, jostled one another off the
+pavement, and ruined one another's umbrellas. All the cabs were
+taken up; they splashed along and bespattered the foot-passengers
+to the best of their ability, while the asphalte glistened in the
+dim light with a dense coating of mud.
+
+The cafes were crowded to excess; regular customers went round and
+scolded, and the waiters ran against each other in their hurry.
+Ever and anon, amid the confusion, could be heard the sharp little
+ting of the bell on the buffet; it was la _dame du comptoir_
+summoning a waiter, while her calm eyes kept a watch upon the whole
+cafe.
+
+A lady sat at the buffet of a large restaurant on the Boulevard
+Sebastopol. She was widely known for her cleverness and her amiable
+manners.
+
+She had glossy black hair, which, in spite of the fashion, she wore
+parted in the middle of her forehead in natural curls. Her eyes
+were almost black and her mouth full, with a little shadow of a
+mustache.
+
+Her figure was still very pretty, although, if the truth were
+known, she had probably passed her thirtieth year; and she had a
+soft little hand, with which she wrote elegant figures in her
+cash-book, and now and then a little note. Madame Virginie could
+converse with the young dandies who were always hanging about the
+buffet, and parry their witticisms, while she kept account with the
+waiters and had her eye upon every corner of the great room.
+
+She was really pretty only from five till seven in the afternoon--
+that being the time at which Alphonse invariably visited the cafe.
+Then her eyes never left him; she got a fresher color, her mouth
+was always trembling into a smile, and her movements became
+somewhat nervous. That was the only time of the day when she was
+ever known to give a random answer or to make a mistake in the
+accounts; and the waiters tittered and nudged each other.
+
+For it was generally thought that she had formerly had relations
+with Alphonse, and some would even have it that she was still his
+mistress.
+
+She herself best knew how matters stood; but it was impossible to
+be angry with Monsieur Alphonse. She was well aware that he cared
+no more for her than for twenty others; that she had lost him--nay,
+that he had never really been hers. And yet her eyes besought a
+friendly look, and when he left the cafe without sending her a
+confidential greeting, it seemed as though she suddenly faded, and
+the waiters said to each other: "Look at Madame; she is gray
+to-night"--
+
+--Over at the windows it was still light enough to read the papers;
+a couple of young men were amusing themselves with watching the
+crowds which streamed past. Seen through the great plate-glass
+windows, the busy forms gliding past one another in the dense, wet,
+rainy air looked like fish in an aquarium. Farther back in the
+cafe, and over the bililard-tables, the gas was lighted. Alphonse
+was playing with a couple of friends.
+
+He had been to the buffet and greeted Madame Virginie, and she, who
+had long noticed how Alphonse was growing paler day by day, had--
+half in jest, half in anxiety--reproached him with his thoughtless
+life.
+
+Alphonse answered with a poor joke and asked for absinthe.
+
+How she hated those light ladies of the ballet and the opera who
+enticed Monsieur Alphonse to revel night after night at the
+gaming-table, or at interminable suppers! How ill he had been
+looking these last few weeks! He had grown quite thin, and the
+great gentle eyes had acquired a piercing, restless look. What
+would she not give to be able to rescue him out of that life that
+was dragging him down! She glanced in the opposite mirror and
+thought she had beauty enough left.
+
+Now and then the door opened and a new guest came in, stamped his
+feet and shut his wet umbrella. All bowed to Madame Virginie, and
+almost all said, "What horrible weather!"
+
+When Charles entered he saluted shortly and took a seat in the
+corner beside the fireplace.
+
+Alphonse's eyes had indeed become restless. He looked towards the
+door every time any one came in; and when Charles appeared, a spasm
+passed over his face and he missed his stroke.
+
+"Monsieur Alphonse is not in the vein to-day," said an onlooker.
+
+Soon after a strange gentleman came in. Charles looked up from his
+paper and nodded slightly; the stranger raised his eyebrows a
+little and looked at Alphonse.
+
+He dropped his cue on the floor.
+
+"Excuse me, gentlemen, I'm not in the mood for billiards to-day,"
+said he, "permit me to leave off. Waiter, bring me a bottle of
+seltzer-water and a spoon--I must take my dose of Vichy salts."
+
+"You should not take so much Vichy salts, Monsieur Alphonse, but
+rather keep to a sensible diet," said the doctor, who sat a little
+way off playing chess.
+
+Alphonse laughed, and seated himself at the newspaper table. He
+seized the _Journal Amusant_, and began to make merry remarks upon
+the illustrations. A little circle quickly gathered round him, and
+he was inexhaustible in racy stories and whimsicalities.
+
+While he rattled on under cover of the others' laughter, he poured
+out a glass of seltzer-water and took from his pocket a little box
+on which was written, in large letters, "Vichy Salts."
+
+He shook the powder out into the glass and stirred it round with a
+spoon. There was a little cigar-ash on the floor in front of his
+chair; he whipped it off with his pocket-handkerchief, and then
+stretched out his hand for the glass.
+
+At that moment he felt a hand on his arm. Charles had risen and
+hurried across the room; he now bent down over Alphonse.
+
+Alphonse turned his head towards him so that none but Charles could
+see his face. At first he let his eyes travel furtively over his
+old friend's figure; then he looked up, and, gazing straight at
+Charles, he said, half aloud, "Charlie!"
+
+It was long since Charles had heard that old pet name. He gazed
+into the well-known face, and now for the first time saw how it had
+altered of late. It seemed to him as though he were reading a
+tragic story about himself.
+
+They remained thus for a second or two, and there glided over
+Alphonse's features that expression of imploring helplessness which
+Charles knew so well from the old school days, when Alphonse came
+bounding in at the last moment and wanted his composition written.
+
+"Have you done with the _Journal Amusant_?" asked Charles, with a
+thick utterance.
+
+"Yes; pray take it," answered Alphonse, hurriedly. He reached him
+the paper, and at the same time got hold of Charles's thumb. He
+pressed it and whispered, "Thanks," then--drained the glass.
+
+Charles went over to the stranger who sat by the door: "Give me the
+bill."
+
+"You don't need our assistance, then?"
+
+"No, thanks."
+
+"So much the better," said the stranger, handing Charles a folded
+blue paper. Then he paid for his coffee and went.--
+
+--Madame Virginie rose with a little shriek: "Alphonse! Oh, my God!
+Monsieur Alphonse is ill."
+
+He slipped off his chair; his shoulders went up and his head fell
+on one side. He remained sitting on the floor, with his back
+against the chair.
+
+There was a movement among those nearest; the doctor sprang over
+and knelt beside him. When he looked in Alphonse's face he started
+a little. He took his hand as if to feel his pulse, and at the same
+time bent down over the glass which stood on the edge of the table.
+
+With a movement of the arm he gave it a slight push, so that it
+fell on the floor and was smashed. Then he laid down the dead man's
+hand and bound a handkerchief round his chin.
+
+Not till then did the others understand what had happened. "Dead?
+Is he dead, doctor? Monsieur Alphonse dead?"
+
+"Heart disease," answered the doctor.
+
+One came running with water, another with vinegar. Amid laughter
+and noise, the balls could be heard cannoning on the inner
+billiard-table.
+
+"Hush!" some one whispered. "Hush!" was repeated; and the silence
+spread in wider and wider circles round the corpse, until all was
+quite still.
+
+"Come and lend a hand," said the doctor.
+
+The dead man was lifted up; they laid him on a sofa in a corner of
+the room, and the nearest gasjets were put out.
+
+Madame Virginie was still standing up; her face was chalk-white,
+and she held her little soft hand pressed against her breast. They
+carried him right past the buffet. The doctor had seized him under
+the back, so that his waistcoat slipped up and a piece of his fine
+white shirt appeared.
+
+She followed with her eyes the slender, supple limbs she knew so
+well, and continued to stare towards the dark corner.
+
+Most of the guests went away in silence. A couple of young men
+entered noisily from the street; a waiter ran towards them and said
+a few words. They glanced towards the corner, buttoned their coats,
+and plunged out again into the fog.
+
+The half-darkened cafe was soon empty; only some of Alphonse's
+nearest friends stood in a group and whispered. The doctor was
+talking with the proprietor, who had now appeared on the scene.
+
+The waiters stole to and fro making great circuits to avoid the
+dark corner. One of them knelt and gathered up the fragments of the
+glass on a tray. He did his work as quietly as he could; but for
+all that it made too much noise.
+
+"Let that alone until by-and-by," said the host, softly.
+
+--Leaning against the chimney-piece, Charles looked at the dead
+man. He slowly tore the folded paper to pieces, while he thought of
+his friend--
+
+
+
+A GOOD CONSCIENCE.
+
+An elegant little carriage, with two sleek and well-fed horses,
+drew up at Advocate Abel's garden gate.
+
+Neither silver nor any other metal was visible in the harness;
+everything was a dull black, and all the buckles were leather-covered.
+In the lacquering of the carriage there was a trace of dark green;
+the cushions were of a subdued dust-color; and only on close inspection
+could you perceive that the coverings were of the richest silk. The
+coachman looked like an English clergyman, in his close-buttoned
+black coat, with a little stand-up collar and stiff white necktie.
+
+Mrs. Warden, who sat alone in the carriage, bent forward and laid
+her hand upon the ivory door-handle; then she slowly alighted, drew
+her long train after her, and carefully closed the carriage door.
+
+You might have wondered that the coachman did not dismount to help
+her; the fat horses certainly did not look as though they would
+play any tricks if he dropped the reins.
+
+But when you looked at his immovable countenance and his correct
+iron-gray whiskers, you understood at once that this was a man who
+knew what he was doing, and never neglected a detail of his duty.
+
+Mrs. Warden passed through the little garden in front of the house,
+and entered the garden-room. The door to the adjoining room stood
+half open, and there she saw the lady of the house at a large table
+covered with rolls of light stuff and scattered numbers of the
+_Bazar_.
+
+"Ah, you've come just at the right moment, my dear Emily!" cried
+Mrs. Abel, "I'm quite in despair over my dress-maker--she can't
+think of anything new. And here I'm sitting, ransacking the
+_Bazar_. Take off your shawl, dear, and come and help me; it's a
+walking-dress."
+
+"I'm afraid I'm scarcely the person to help you in a matter of
+dress," answered Mrs. Warden.
+
+Good-natured Mrs. Abel stared at her; there was something
+disquieting in her tone, and she had a vast respect for her rich
+friend.
+
+"You remember I told you the other day that Warden had promised me--
+that's to say"--Mrs. Warden corrected herself--"he had asked me to
+order a new silk dress--"
+
+"From Madame Labiche--of course!"--interrupted Mrs. Abel. "And I
+suppose you're on your way to her now? Oh, take me with you! It
+will be such fun!"
+
+"I am not going to Madame Labiche's," answered Mrs. Warden, almost
+solemnly.
+
+"Good gracious, why not?" asked her friend, while her good-humored
+brown eyes grew spherical with astonishment.
+
+"Well, you must know," answered Mrs. Warden, "it seems to me we
+can't with a good conscience pay so much money for unnecessary
+finery, when we know that on the outskirts of the town--and even at
+our very doors--there are hundreds of people living in destitution--
+literally in destitution."
+
+"Yes, but," objected the advocate's wife, casting an uneasy glance
+over her table, "isn't that the way of the world? We know that
+inequality--"
+
+"We ought to be careful not to increase the inequality, but rather
+to do what we can to smooth it away," Mrs. Warden interrupted. And
+it appeared to Mrs. Abel that her friend cast a glance of
+disapprobation over the table, the stuffs, and the _Bazars_.
+
+"It's only alpaca," she interjected, timidly.
+
+"Good heavens, Caroline!" cried Mrs. Warden, "pray don't think that
+I'm reproaching you. These things depend entirely upon one's
+individual point of view--every one must follow the dictates of his
+own conscience."
+
+The conversation continued for some time, and Mrs. Warden related
+that it was her intention to drive out to the very lowest of the
+suburbs, in order to assure herself, with her own eyes, of the
+conditions of life among the poor.
+
+On the previous day she had read the annual report of a private
+charitable society of which her husband was a member. She had
+purposely refrained from applying to the police or the poor-law
+authorities for information. It was the very gist of her design
+personally to seek out poverty, to make herself familiar with it,
+and then to render assistance.
+
+The ladies parted a little less effusively than usual. They were
+both in a serious frame of mind.
+
+Mrs. Abel remained in the garden-room; she felt no inclination to
+set to work again at the walking-dress, although the stuff was
+really pretty. She heard the muffled sound of the carriage-wheels
+as they rolled off over the smooth roadway of the villa quarter.
+
+"What a good heart Emily has," she sighed.
+
+Nothing could be more remote than envy from the good-natured lady's
+character; and yet--it was with a feeling akin to envy that she now
+followed the light carriage with her eyes. But whether it was her
+friend's good heart or her elegant equipage that she envied her it
+was not easy to say. She had given the coachman his orders, which
+he had received without moving a muscle; and as remonstrance was
+impossible to him, he drove deeper and deeper into the queerest
+streets in the poor quarter, with a countenance as though he were
+driving to a Court ball.
+
+At last he received orders to stop, and indeed it was high time.
+For the street grew narrower and narrower, and it seemed as though
+the fat horses and the elegant carriage must at the very next
+moment have stuck fast, like a cork in the neck of a bottle.
+
+The immovable one showed no sign of anxiety, although the situation
+was in reality desperate. A humorist, who stuck his head out of a
+garret window, went so far as to advise him to slaughter his horses
+on the spot, as they could never get out again alive.
+
+Mrs. Warden alighted, and turned into a still narrower street; she
+wanted to see poverty at its very worst.
+
+In a door-way stood a half-grown girl. Mrs. Warden asked: "Do very
+poor people live in this house?"
+
+The girl laughed and made some answer as she brushed close past her
+in the narrow door-way. Mrs. Warden did not understand what she
+said, but she had an impression that it was something ugly.
+
+She entered the first room she came to.
+
+It was not a new idea to Mrs. Warden that poor people never keep
+their rooms properly ventilated. Nevertheless, she was so
+overpowered by the atmosphere she found herself inhaling that she
+was glad to sink down on a bench beside the stove.
+
+Mrs. Warden was struck by something in the gesture with which the
+woman of the house swept down upon the floor the clothes which were
+lying on the bench, and in the smile with which she invited the
+fine lady to be seated. She received the impression that the poor
+woman had seen better days, although her movements were bouncing
+rather than refined, and her smile was far from pleasant.
+
+The long train of Mrs. Warden's pearl-gray visiting dress spread
+over the grimy floor, and as she stooped and drew it to her she
+could not help thinking of an expression of Heine's, "She looked
+like a bon-bon which has fallen in the mire."
+
+The conversation began, and was carried on as such conversations
+usually are. If each had kept to her own language and her own line
+of thought, neither of these two women would have understood a word
+that the other said.
+
+But as the poor always know the rich much better than the rich know
+the poor, the latter have at last acquired a peculiar dialect--a
+particular tone which experience has taught them to use when they
+are anxious to make themselves understood--that is to say,
+understood in such a way as to incline the wealthy to beneficence.
+Nearer to each other they can never come.
+
+Of this dialect the poor woman was a perfect mistress, and Mrs.
+Warden had soon a general idea of her miserable case. She had two
+children--a boy of four or five, who was lying on the floor, and a
+baby at the breast.
+
+Mrs. Warden gazed at the pallid little creature, and could not
+believe that it was thirteen months old. At home in his cradle she
+herself had a little colossus of seven months, who was at least
+half as big again as this child.
+
+"You must give the baby something strengthening," she said; and she
+had visions of phosphate food and orange jelly.
+
+At the words "something strengthening," a shaggy head looked up
+from the bedstraw; it belonged to a pale, hollow eyed man with a
+large woollen comforter wrapped round his jaws.
+
+Mrs. Warden was frightened. "Your husband?" she asked.
+
+The poor woman answered yes, it was her husband. He had not gone to
+work to-day because he had such bad toothache.
+
+Mrs. Warden had had toothache herself, and knew how painful it is.
+She uttered some words of sincere sympathy.
+
+The man muttered something, and lay back again; and at the same
+moment Mrs. Warden discovered an inmate of the room whom she had
+not hitherto observed.
+
+It was a quite young girl, who was seated in the corner at the
+other side of the stove. She stared for a moment at the fine lady,
+but quickly drew back her head and bent forward, so that the
+visitor could see little but her back.
+
+Mrs. Warden thought the girl had some sewing in her lap which she
+wanted to hide; perhaps it was some old garment she was mending.
+
+"Why does the big boy lie upon the floor?" asked Mrs. Warden.
+
+"He's lame," answered the mother. And now followed a detailed
+account of the poor boy's case, with many lamentations. He had been
+attacked with hip-disease after the scarlet-fever.
+
+"You must buy him--" began Mrs. Warden, intending to say, "a
+wheel-chair." But it occurred to her that she had better buy it
+herself. It is not wise to let poor people get too much money into
+their hands. But she would give the woman something at once. Here
+was real need, a genuine case for help; and she felt in her pocket
+for her purse.
+
+It was not there. How annoying--she must have left it in the carriage.
+
+Just as she was turning to the woman to express her regret, and
+promise to send some money presently, the door opened, and a
+well-dressed gentleman entered. His face was very full, and of a
+sort of dry, mealy pallor.
+
+"Mrs. Warden, I presume?" said the stranger. "I saw your carriage
+out in the street, and I have brought you this--your purse, is it
+not?"
+
+Mrs. Warden looked at it--yes, certainly, it was hers, with E. W.
+inlaid in black on the polished ivory.
+
+"I happened to see it, as I turned the corner, in the hands of a
+girl--one of the most disreputable in the quarter," the stranger
+explained; adding, "I am the poor-law inspector of the district."
+
+Mrs. Warden thanked him, although she did not at all like his
+appearance. But when she again looked round the room she was quite
+alarmed by the change which had taken place in its occupants.
+
+The husband sat upright in the bed and glared at the fat gentleman,
+the wife's face wore an ugly smile, and even the poor wee cripple
+had scrambled towards the door, and resting on his lean arms,
+stared upward like a little animal.
+
+And in all these eyes there was the same hate, the same aggressive
+defiance. Mrs. Warden felt as though she were now separated by an
+immense interval from the poor woman with whom she had just been
+talking so openly and confidentially.
+
+"So that's the state you're in to-day, Martin," said the gentleman,
+in quite a different voice. "I thought you'd been in that affair
+last night. Never mind, they're coming for you this afternoon.
+It'll be a two months' business."
+
+All of a sudden the torrent was let loose. The man and woman
+shouted each other down, the girl behind the stove came forward and
+joined in, the cripple shrieked and rolled about. It was impossible
+to distinguish the words; but what between voices, eyes, and hands,
+it seemed as though the stuffy little room must fly asunder with
+all the wild passion exploding in it.
+
+Mrs. Warden turned pale and rose, the gentleman opened the door,
+and both hastened out. As she passed down the passage she heard a
+horrible burst of feminine laughter behind her. It must be the
+woman--the same woman who had spoken so softly and despondently
+about the poor children.
+
+She felt half angry with the man who had brought about this
+startling change, and as they now walked side by side up the street
+she listened to him with a cold and distant expression.
+
+But gradually her bearing changed; there was really so much in what
+he said.
+
+The poor-law inspector told her what a pleasure it was to him to
+find a lady like Mrs. Warden so compassionate towards the poor.
+Though it was much to be deplored that even the most well-meant
+help so often came into unfortunate hands, yet there was always
+something fine and ennobling in seeing a lady like Mrs. Warden--
+
+"But," she interrupted, "aren't these people in the utmost need of
+help? I received the impression that the woman in particular had
+seen better days, and that a little timely aid might perhaps enable
+her to recover herself."
+
+"I am sorry to have to tell you, madam," said the poor-law
+inspector, in a tone of mild regret, "that she was formerly a very
+notorious woman of the town."
+
+Mrs. Warden shuddered.
+
+She had spoken to such a woman, and spoken about children. She had
+even mentioned her own child, lying at home in its innocent cradle.
+She almost felt as though she must hasten home to make sure it was
+still as clean and wholesome as before.
+
+"And the young girl?" she asked, timidly.
+
+"No doubt you noticed her--her condition."
+
+"No. You mean--"
+
+The fat gentleman whispered some words.
+
+Mrs. Warden started: "By the man!--the man of the house?"
+
+"Yes, madam, I am sorry to have to tell you so; but you can
+understand that these people--" and he whispered again.
+
+This was too much for Mrs. Warden. She turned almost dizzy, and
+accepted the gentleman's arm. They now walked rapidly towards the
+carriage, which was standing a little farther off than the spot at
+which she had left it.
+
+For the immovable one had achieved a feat which even the humorist
+had acknowledged with an elaborate oath.
+
+After sitting for some time, stiff as a poker, he had backed his
+sleek horses, step by step, until they reached a spot where the
+street widened a little, though the difference was imperceptible to
+any other eyes than those of an accomplished coachman.
+
+A whole pack of ragged children swarmed about the carriage, and did
+all they could to upset the composure of the sleek steeds. But the
+spirit of the immovable one was in them.
+
+After having measured with a glance of perfect composure the
+distance between two flights of steps, one on each side of the
+street, he made the sleek pair turn, slowly and step by step, so
+short and sharp that it seemed as though the elegant carriage must
+be crushed to fragments, but so accurately that there was not an
+inch too much or too little on either side.
+
+Now he once more sat stiff as a poker, still measuring with his
+eyes the distance between the steps. He even made a mental note of
+the number of a constable who had watched the feat, in order to
+have a witness to appeal to if his account of it should be received
+with scepticism at the stables.
+
+Mrs. Warden allowed the poor-law inspector to hand her into the
+carriage. She asked him to call upon her the following day, and
+gave him her address.
+
+"To Advocate Abel's!" she cried to the coachman. The fat gentleman
+lifted his hat with a mealy smile, and the carriage rolled away.
+
+As they gradually left the poor quarter of the town behind, the
+motion of the carriage became smoother, and the pace increased. And
+when they emerged upon the broad avenue leading through the villa
+quarter, the sleek pair snorted with enjoyment of the pure,
+delicate air from the gardens, and the immovable one indulged,
+without any sort of necessity, in three masterly cracks of his
+whip.
+
+Mrs. Warden, too, was conscious of the delight of finding herself
+once more in the fresh air. The experiences she had gone through,
+and, still more, what she had heard from the inspector, had had an
+almost numbing effect upon her. She began to realize the
+immeasurable distance between herself and such people as these.
+
+She had often thought there was something quite too sad, nay,
+almost cruel, in the text: "Many are called, but few are chosen."
+
+Now she understood that it _could_ not be otherwise.
+
+How could people so utterly depraved ever attain an elevation at
+all adequate to the demands of a strict morality? What must be the
+state of these wretched creatures' consciences? And how should they
+be able to withstand the manifold temptations of life?
+
+She knew only too well what temptation meant! Was she not
+incessantly battling against a temptation--perhaps the most
+perilous of all--the temptation of riches, about which the
+Scriptures said so many hard things?
+
+She shuddered to think of what would happen if that brutish man and
+these miserable women suddenly had riches placed in their hands.
+
+Yes, wealth was indeed no slight peril to the soul. It was only
+yesterday that her husband had tempted her with such a delightful
+little man-servant--a perfect English groom. But she had resisted
+the temptation; and answered: "No, Warden, it would not be right; I
+will not have a footman on the box. I dare say we can afford it;
+but let us beware of overweening luxury. I assure you I don't
+require help to get into the carriage and out of it; I won't even
+let the coachman get down on my account."
+
+It did her good to think of this now, and her eyes rested
+complacently on the empty seat on the box, beside the immovable
+one.
+
+Mrs. Abel, who was busy clearing away _Bazars_ and scraps of stuff
+from the big table, was astonished to see her friend return so
+soon.
+
+"Why, Emily! Back again already? I've just been telling the
+dress-maker that she can go. What you were saying to me has quite
+put me out of conceit of my new frock; I can quite well get on
+without one--" said good-natured Mrs. Abel; but her lips trembled a
+little as she spoke.
+
+"Every one must act according to his own conscience," answered Mrs.
+Warden, quietly, "but I think it's possible to be too scrupulous."
+
+Mrs. Abel looked up; she had not expected this.
+
+"Just let me tell you what I've gone through," said Mrs. Warden,
+and began her story.
+
+She sketched her first impression of the stuffy room and the
+wretched people; then she spoke of the theft of her purse.
+
+"My husband always declares that people of that kind can't refrain
+from stealing," said Mrs. Abel.
+
+"I'm afraid your husband is nearer the truth than we thought,"
+replied Mrs. Warden.
+
+Then she told about the inspector, and the ingratitude these people
+had displayed towards the man who cared for them day by day.
+
+But when she came to what she had heard of the poor woman's past
+life, and still more when she told about the young girl, Mrs. Abel
+was so overcome that she had to ask the servant to bring some
+port-wine.
+
+When the girl brought in the tray with the decanter, Mrs. Abel
+whispered to her: "Tell the dressmaker to wait."
+
+"And then, can you conceive it," Mrs. Warden continued--"I scarcely
+know how to tell you"--and she whispered.
+
+"What do you say! In one bed! All! Why, it's revolting!" cried Mrs.
+Abel, clasping her hands.
+
+"Yes, an hour ago I; too, could not have believed it possible,"
+answered Mrs. Warden, "But when you've been on the spot yourself,
+and seen with your own eyes--"
+
+"Good heavens, Emily, how could you venture into such a place!"
+
+"I am glad I did, and still more glad of the happy chance that
+brought the inspector on the scene just at the right time. For if
+it is ennobling to bring succor to the virtuous poor who live clean
+and frugal lives in their humble sphere, it would be unpardonable
+to help such people as these to gratify their vile proclivities."
+
+"Yes, you're quite right, Emily! What I can't understand is how
+people in a Christian community--people who have been baptized and
+confirmed--can sink into such a state! Have they not every day--or,
+at any rate, every Sunday--the opportunity of listening to powerful
+and impressive sermons? And Bibles, I am told, are to be had for an
+incredibly trifling sum."
+
+"Yes, and only to think," added Mrs. Warden, "that not even the
+heathen, who are without all these blessings--that not even they
+have any excuse for evil-doing; for they have conscience to guide
+them."
+
+"And I'm sure conscience speaks clearly enough to every one who has
+the will to listen," Mrs. Abel exclaimed, with emphasis.
+
+"Yes, heaven knows it does," answered Mrs. Warden, gazing straight
+before her with a serious smile.
+
+When the friends parted, they exchanged warm embraces.
+
+Mrs. Warden grasped the ivory handle, entered the carriage, and
+drew her train after her. Then she closed the carriage door--not
+with a slam, but slowly and carefully.
+
+"To Madame Labiche's!" she called to the coachman; then, turning to
+her friend who had accompanied her right down to the garden gate,
+she said, with a quiet smile: "Now, thank heaven, I can order my
+silk dress with a good conscience."
+
+"Yes, indeed you can!" exclaimed Mrs. Abel, watching her with tears
+in her eyes. Then she hastened in-doors.
+
+
+
+ROMANCE AND REALITY.
+
+"Just you get married as soon as you can," said Mrs. Olsen.
+
+"Yes, I can't understand why it shouldn't be this very autumn,"
+exclaimed the elder Miss Ludvigsen, who was an enthusiast for ideal
+love.
+
+"Oh, yes!" cried Miss Louisa, who was certain to be one of the
+bridesmaids.
+
+"But Soeren says he can't afford it," answered the bride elect,
+somewhat timidly.
+
+"Can't afford it!" repeated Miss Ludvigsen. "To think of a young
+girl using such an expression! If you're going to let your new-born
+love be overgrown with prosaic calculations, what will be left of
+the ideal halo which love alone can cast over life? That a man
+should be alive to these considerations I can more or less
+understand--it's in a way his duty; but for a sensitive, womanly
+heart, in the heyday of sentiment!--No, no, Marie; for heaven's
+sake, don't let these sordid money-questions darken your
+happiness."
+
+"Oh, no!" cried Miss Louisa.
+
+"And, besides," Mrs. Olsen chimed in, "your _fiance_ is by no means
+so badly off. My husband and I began life on much less.--I know
+you'll say that times were different then. Good heavens, we all
+know that! What I can't understand is that you don't get tired of
+telling us so. Don't you think that we old people, who have gone
+through the transition period, have the best means of comparing the
+requirements of to-day with those of our youth? You can surely
+understand that with my experience of house-keeping, I'm not likely
+to disregard the altered conditions of life; and yet I assure you
+that the salary your intended receives from my husband, with what
+he can easily earn by extra work, is quite sufficient to set up
+house upon."
+
+Mrs. Olsen had become quite eager in her argument, though no one
+thought of contradicting her. She had so often, in conversations of
+this sort, been irritated to hear people, and especially young
+married women, enlarging on the ridiculous cheapness of everything
+thirty years ago. She felt as though they wanted to make light of
+the exemplary fashion in which she had conducted her household.
+
+This conversation made a deep impression on the _fiancee_, for she
+had great confidence in Mrs. Olsen's shrewdness and experience.
+Since Marie had become engaged to the Sheriff's clerk, the
+Sheriff's wife had taken a keen interest in her. She was an
+energetic woman, and, as her own children were already grown up and
+married, she found a welcome outlet for her activity in busying
+herself with the concerns of the young couple.
+
+Marie's mother, on the other hand, was a very retiring woman. Her
+husband, a subordinate government official, had died so early that
+her pension extremely scanty. She came of a good family, and had
+learned nothing in her girlhood except to Play the piano. This
+accomplishment she had long ceased to practise, and in the course
+of time had become exceedingly religious.--
+
+--"Look here, now, my dear fellow, aren't you thinking of getting
+married?" asked the Sheriff, in his genial way.
+
+"Oh yes," answered Soeren, with some hesitation, "when I can afford
+it.
+
+"Afford it!" the Sheriff repeated; "Why, you're by no means so
+badly off. I know you have something laid by--"
+
+"A trifle," Soeren put in.
+
+"Well, so be it; but it shows, at any rate, that you have an idea
+of economy, and that's as good as money in your pocket. You came
+out high in your examination; and, with your family influence and
+other advantages at headquarters, you needn't wait long before
+applying for some minor appointment; and once in the way of
+promotion, you know, you go ahead in spite of yourself."
+
+Soeren bit his pen and looked interested.
+
+"Let us assume," continued his principal, "that, thanks to your
+economy, you can set up house without getting into any debt worth
+speaking of. Then you'll have your salary clear, and whatever you
+can earn in addition by extra work. It would be strange, indeed, if
+a man of your ability could note find employment for his leisure
+time in a rising commercial centre like ours."
+
+Soeren reflected all forenoon on what the Sheriff had said. He saw,
+more and more clearly, that he had over-estimated the financial
+obstacles to his marriage; and, after all, it was true that he had
+a good deal of time on his hands out of office hours.
+
+He was engaged to dine with his principal; and his intended, too,
+was to be there. On the whole, the young people perhaps met quite
+as often at the Sheriff's as at Marie's home. For the peculiar
+knack which Mrs. Moeller, Marie's mother, had acquired, of giving
+every conversation a religious turn, was not particularly
+attractive to them.
+
+There was much talk at table of a lovely little house which Mrs.
+Olsen had discovered; "A perfect nest for a newly married couple,"
+as she expressed herself. Soeren inquired, in passing, as to the
+financial conditions, and thought them reasonable enough, if the
+place answered to his hostess's description.
+
+--Mrs. Olsen's anxiety to see this marriage hurried on was due in
+the first place, as above hinted, to her desire for mere
+occupation, and, in the second place, to a vague longing for some
+event, of whatever nature, to happen--a psychological phenomenon by
+no means rare in energetic natures, living narrow and monotonous
+lives.
+
+The Sheriff worked in the same direction, partly in obedience to
+his wife's orders, and partly because he thought that Soeren's
+marriage to Marie, who owed so much to his family, would form
+another tie to bind him to the office--for the Sheriff was pleased
+with his clerk.
+
+After dinner the young couple strolled about the garden. They
+conversed in an odd, short-winded fashion, until at last Soeren, in
+a tone which was meant to be careless, threw out the suggestion:
+"What should you say to getting married this autumn?"
+
+Marie forgot to express surprise. The same thought had been running
+in her own head; so she answered, looking to the ground: "Well, if
+you think you can afford it, I can have no objection."
+
+"Suppose we reckon the thing out," said Soeren, and drew her towards
+the summer-house.
+
+Half an hour afterwards they came out, arm-in-arm, into the
+sunshine. They, too, seemed to radiate light--the glow of a
+spirited resolution, formed after ripe thought and serious counting
+of the cost.
+
+Some people might, perhaps, allege that it would be rash to assume
+the absolute correctness of a calculation merely from the fact that
+two lovers have arrived at exactly the same total; especially when
+the problem happens to bear upon the choice between renunciation
+and the supremest bliss.
+
+In the course of the calculation Soeren had not been without
+misgivings. He remembered how, in his student days, he had spoken
+largely of our duty towards posterity; how he had philosophically
+demonstrated the egoistic element in love, and propounded the
+ludicrous question whether people had a right, in pure heedlessness
+as it were, to bring children into the world.
+
+But time and practical life had, fortunately, cured him of all
+taste for these idle and dangerous mental gymnastics. And, besides,
+he was far too proper and well-bred to shock his innocent lady-love
+by taking into account so indelicate a possibility as that of their
+having a large family. Is it not one of the charms of young love
+that it should leave such matters as these to heaven and the
+stork? [Note: The stork, according to common nursery legends,
+brings babies under its wing.]
+
+There was great jubilation at the Sheriff's, and not there alone.
+Almost the whole town was thrown into a sort of fever by the
+intelligence that the Sheriff's clerk was to be married in the
+autumn. Those who were sure of an invitation to the wedding were
+already looking forward to it; those who could not hope to be
+invited fretted and said spiteful things; while those whose case
+was doubtful were half crazy with suspense. And all emotions have
+their value in a stagnant little town.
+
+--Mrs. Olsen was a woman of courage; yet her heart beat as she set
+forth to call upon Mrs. Moeller. It is no light matter to ask a
+mother to let her daughter be married from your house. But she
+might have spared herself all anxiety.
+
+For Mrs. Moeller shrank from every sort of exertion almost as much
+as she shrank from sin in all its forms. Therefore she was much
+relieved by Mrs. Olsen's proposition, introduced with a delicacy
+which did not always characterize that lady's proceedings. However,
+it was not Mrs. Moeller's way to make any show of pleasure or
+satisfaction. Since everything, in one way or another, was a
+"cross" to be borne, she did not fail, even in this case, to make
+it appear that her long-suffering was proof against every trial.
+
+Mrs. Olsen returned home beaming. She would have been balked of
+half her pleasure in this marriage if she had not been allowed to
+give the wedding party; for wedding-parties were Mrs. Olsen's
+specialty. On such occasions she put her economy aside, and the
+satisfaction she felt in finding, an opening for all her energies
+made her positively amiable. After all, the Sheriff's post was a
+good one, and the Olsens had always had a little property besides,
+which, however, they never talked about.
+
+--So the wedding came off, and a splendid wedding it was. Miss
+Ludvigsen had written an unrhymed song about true love, which was
+sung at the feast, and Louisa eclipsed all the other bridesmaids.
+
+The newly-married couple took up their quarters in the nest
+discovered by Mrs. Olsen, and plunged into that half-conscious
+existence of festal felicity which the English call the
+"honeymoon," because it is too sweet; the Germans, "Flitterwochen,"
+because its glory departs so quickly; and we "the wheat-bread days"
+because we know that there is coarser fare to follow.
+
+But in Soeren's cottage the wheat-bread days lasted long; and when
+heaven sent them a little angel with golden locks, their happiness
+was as great as we can by any means expect in this weary world.
+
+As for the incomings--well, they were fairly adequate, though Soeren
+had, unfortunately, not succeeded in making a start without getting
+into debt; but that would, no doubt, come right in time.
+
+--Yes, in time! The years passed, and with each of them heaven sent
+Soeren a little golden-locked angel. After six years of marriage
+they had exactly five children. The quiet little town was
+unchanged, Soeren was still the Sheriff's clerk, and the Sheriff's
+household was as of old; but Soeren himself was scarcely to be
+recognized.
+
+They tell of sorrows and heavy blows of fate which can turn a man's
+hair gray in a night. Such afflictions had not fallen to Soeren's
+lot. The sorrows that had sprinkled his hair with gray, rounded his
+shoulders, and made him old before his time, were of a lingering
+and vulgar type. They were bread-sorrows.
+
+Bread-sorrows are to other sorrows as toothache to other disorders.
+A simple pain can be conquered in open fight; a nervous fever, or
+any other "regular" illness, goes through a normal development and
+comes to a crisis. But while toothache has the long-drawn sameness
+of the tape-worm, bread-sorrows envelop their victim like a grimy
+cloud: he puts them on every morning with his threadbare clothes,
+and he seldom sleeps so deeply as to forget them.
+
+It was in the long fight against encroaching poverty that Soeren had
+worn himself out; and yet he was great at economy.
+
+But there are two sorts of economy: the active and the passive.
+Passive economy thinks day and night of the way to save a
+half-penny; active economy broods no less intently on the way to
+earn a dollar. The first sort of economy, the passive, prevails
+among us; the active in the great nations--chiefly in America.
+
+Soeren's strength lay in the passive direction. He devoted all his
+spare time and some of his office-hours to thinking out schemes for
+saving and retrenchment. But whether it was that the luck was
+against him, or, more probably, that his income was really too
+small to support a wife and five children--in any case, his
+financial position went from bad to worse.
+
+Every place in life seems filled to the uttermost, and yet there
+are people who make their way everywhere. Soeren did not belong to
+this class. He sought in vain for the extra work on which he and
+Marie had reckoned as a vague but ample source of income. Nor had
+his good connections availed him aught. There are always plenty of
+people ready to help young men of promise who can help themselves;
+but the needy father of a family is never welcome.
+
+Soeren had been a man of many friends. It could not be said that
+they had drawn back from him, but he seemed somehow to have
+disappeared from their view. When they happened to meet, there was
+a certain embarrassment on both sides. Soeren no longer cared for
+the things that interested them, and they were bored when he held
+forth upon the severity of his daily grind, and the expensiveness
+of living.
+
+And if, now and then, one of his old friends invited him to a
+bachelor-party, he did as people are apt to do whose every-day fare
+is extremely frugal: he ate and drank too much. The lively but
+well-bred and circumspect Soeren declined into a sort of butt, who
+made rambling speeches, and around whom the young whelps of the
+party would gather after dinner to make sport for themselves. But
+what impressed his friends most painfully of all, was his utter
+neglect of his personal appearance.
+
+For he had once been extremely particular in his dress; in his
+student days he had been called "the exquisite Soeren." And even
+after his marriage he had for some time contrived to wear his
+modest attire with a certain air. But after bitter necessity had
+forced him to keep every garment in use an unnaturally long time,
+his vanity had at last given way. And when once a man's sense of
+personal neatness is impaired, he is apt to lose it utterly. When a
+new coat became absolutely necessary, it was his wife that had to
+awaken him to the fact; and when his collars became quite too
+ragged at the edges, he trimmed them with a pair of scissors.
+
+He had other things to think about, poor fellow. But when people
+came into the office, or when he was entering another person's
+house, he had a purely mechanical habit of moistening his fingers
+at his lips, and rubbing the lapels of his coat. This was the sole
+relic of "the exquisite Soeren's" exquisiteness--like one of the
+rudimentary organs, dwindled through lack of use, which zoologists
+find in certain animals.--
+
+Soeren's worst enemy, however, dwelt within him. In his youth he had
+dabbled in philosophy, and this baneful passion for thinking would
+now attack him from time to time, crushing all resistance, and, in
+the end, turning everything topsy-turvy.
+
+It was when he thought about his children that this befell him.
+
+When he regarded these little creatures, who, as he could not
+conceal from himself, became more and more neglected as time went
+on, he found it impossible to place them under the category of
+golden-locked angels had sent him by heaven. He had to admit that
+heaven does not send us these gifts without a certain inducement on
+our side; and then Soeren asked himself: "Had you any right to do
+this?" He thought of his own life, which had begun under fortunate
+conditions. His family had been in easy circumstances; his father,
+a government official, had given him the best education to be had
+in the country; he had gone forth to the battle of life fully
+equipped--and what had come of it all?
+
+And how could he equip his children for the fight into which he was
+sending them? They had begun their life in need and penury, which
+had, as far as possible, to be concealed; they had early learned
+the bitter lesson of the disparity between inward expectations and
+demands and outward circumstances; and from their slovenly home
+they would take with them the most crushing inheritance, perhaps,
+under which a man can toil through life; to wit, poverty with
+pretensions.
+
+Soeren tried to tell himself that heaven would take care of them.
+But he was ashamed to do so, for he felt it was only a phrase of
+self-excuse, designed to allay the qualms of conscience.
+
+These thoughts were his worst torment; but, truth to tell, they did
+not often attack him, for Soeren had sunk into apathy. That was the
+Sheriff's view of his case. "My clerk was quite a clever fellow in
+his time," he used to say. "But, you know, his hasty marriage, his
+large family, and all that--in short, he has almost done for himself."
+
+Badly dressed and badly fed, beset with debts and cares, he was
+worn out and weary before he had accomplished anything. And life
+went its way, and Soeren dragged himself along in its train. He
+seemed to be forgotten by all save heaven, which, as aforesaid,
+sent him year by year a little angel with locks of gold--
+
+Soeren's young wife had clung faithfully to her husband through
+these six years, and she, too, had reached the same point.
+
+The first year of her married life had glided away like a dream of
+dizzy bliss. When she held up the little golden-locked angel for
+the admiration of her lady friends, she was beautiful with the
+beauty of perfect maternal happiness; and Miss Ludvigsen said:
+"Here is love in its ideal form."
+
+But Mrs. Olsen's "nest" soon became too small; the family increased
+while the income stood still.
+
+She was daily confronted by new claims, new cares, and new duties.
+Marie set stanchly to work, for she was a courageous and sensible
+woman.
+
+It is not one of the so-called elevating employments to have charge
+of a houseful of little children, with no means of satisfying even
+moderate requirements in respect of comfort and well-being. In
+addition to this, she was never thoroughly robust; she oscillated
+perpetually between having just had, and being just about to have,
+a child. As she toiled from morning to night, she lost her buoyancy
+of spirit, and her mind became bitter. She sometimes asked herself:
+"What is the meaning of it all?"
+
+She saw the eagerness of young girls to be married, and the air of
+self-complacency with which young men offer to marry them; she
+thought of her own experience, and felt as though she had been
+befooled.
+
+But it was not right of Marie to think thus, for she had been
+excellently brought up.
+
+The view of life to which she had from the first been habituated,
+was the only beautiful one, the only one that could enable her to
+preserve her ideals intact. No unlovely and prosaic theory of
+existence had ever cast its shadow over her development; she knew
+that love is the most beautiful thing on earth, that it transcends
+reason and is consummated in marriage; as to children, she had
+learned to blush when they were mentioned.
+
+A strict watch had always been kept upon her reading. She had read
+many earnest volumes on the duties of woman; she knew that her
+happiness lies in being loved by a man, and that her mission is to
+be his wife. She knew how evil-disposed people will often place
+obstacles between two lovers, but she knew, too, that true love
+will at last emerge victorious from the fight. When people met with
+disaster in the battle of life, it was because they were false to
+the ideal. She had faith in the ideal, although she did not know
+what it was.
+
+She knew and loved those poets whom she was allowed to read. Much
+of their erotics she only half understood, but that made it all the
+more lovely. She knew that marriage was a serious, a very serious
+thing, for which a clergyman was indispensable; and she understood
+that marriages are made in heaven, as engagements are made in the
+ballroom. But when, in these youthful days, she pictured to herself
+this serious institution, she seemed to be looking into an
+enchanted grove, with Cupids weaving garlands, and storks bringing
+little golden-locked angels under their wings; while before a
+little cabin in the background, which yet was large enough to
+contain all the bliss in the world, sat the ideal married couple,
+gazing into the depths of each other's eyes.
+
+No one had ever been so ill-bred as to say to her: "Excuse me,
+young lady, would you not like to come with me to a different point
+of view, and look at the matter from the other side? How if it
+should turn out to be a mere set-scene of painted pasteboard?"
+
+Soeren's young wife had now had ample opportunities of studying the
+set-scene from the other side.
+
+Mrs. Olsen had at first come about her early and late, and
+overwhelmed her with advice and criticism. Both Soeren and his wife
+were many a time heartily tired of her; but they owed the Olsens so
+much.
+
+Little by little, however, the old lady's zeal cooled down. When
+the young people's house was no longer so clean, so orderly, and so
+exemplary that she could plume herself upon her work, she gradually
+withdrew; and when Soeren's wife once in a while came to ask her for
+advice or assistance, the Sheriff's lady would mount her high
+horse, until Marie ceased to trouble her. But if, in society,
+conversation happened to fall upon the Sheriff's clerk, and any one
+expressed compassion for his poor wife, with her many children and
+her miserable income, Mrs. Olsen would not fail to put in her word
+with great decision: "I can assure you it would be just the same if
+Marie had twice as much to live on and no children at all. You see,
+she's--" and Mrs. Olsen made a motion with her hands, as if she
+were squandering something abroad, to right and left.
+
+Marie seldom went to parties, and if she did appear, in her at
+least ten-times-altered marriage dress, it was generally to sit
+alone in a corner, or to carry on a tedious conversation with a
+similarly situated housewife about the dearness of the times and
+the unreasonableness of servant-girls.
+
+And the young ladies who had gathered the gentlemen around them,
+either in the middle of the room or wherever they found the most
+comfortable chairs to stretch themselves in, whispered to each
+other: "How tiresome it is that young married women can never talk
+about anything but housekeeping and the nursery."
+
+In the early days, Marie had often had visits from her many
+friends. They were enchanted with her charming house, and the
+little golden-locked angel had positively to be protected from
+their greedy admiration. But when one of them now chanced to stray
+in her direction, it was quite a different affair. There was no
+longer any golden-locked angel to be exhibited in a clean,
+embroidered frock with red ribbons. The children, who were never
+presentable without warning, were huddled hastily away--dropping
+their toys about the floor, forgetting to pick up half-eaten pieces
+of bread-and-butter from the chairs, and leaving behind them that
+peculiar atmosphere which one can, at most, endure in one's own
+children.
+
+Day after day her life dragged on in ceaseless toil. Many a time,
+when she heard her husband bemoaning the drudgery of his lot, she
+thought to herself with a sort of defiance: "I wonder which of us
+two has the harder work?"
+
+In one respect she was happier than her husband. Philosophy did not
+enter into her dreams, and when she could steal a quiet moment for
+reflection; her thoughts were very different from the cogitations
+of the poor philosopher.
+
+She had no silver plate to polish, no jewelry to take out and deck
+herself with. But, in the inmost recess of her heart, she treasured
+all the memories of the first year of her marriage, that year of
+romantic bliss; and these memories she would furbish and furbish
+afresh, till they shone brighter with every year that passed.
+
+But when the weary and despondent housewife, in all secrecy, decked
+herself out with these jewels of memory, they did not succeed in
+shedding any brightness over her life in the present. She was
+scarcely conscious of any connection between the golden-locked
+angel with the red ribbons and the five-year-old boy who lay
+grubbing in the dark back yard. These moments snatched her quite
+away from reality; they were like opium dreams.
+
+Then some one would call for her from an adjoining room, or one of
+the children would be brought in howling from the street, with a
+great bump on its forehead. Hastily she would hide away her
+treasures, resume her customary air of hopeless weariness, and
+plunge once more into her labyrinth of duties and cares.
+
+--Thus had this marriage fared, and thus did this couple toil
+onward. They both dragged at the same heavy load; but did they drag
+in unison? It is sad, but it is true: when the manger is empty, the
+horses bite each other.--
+
+--There was a great chocolate-party at the Misses Ludvigsen's--all
+maiden ladies.
+
+"For married women are so prosaic," said the elder Miss Ludvigsen.
+
+"Uh, yes!" cried Louisa.
+
+Every one was in the most vivacious humor, as is generally the case
+in such company and on such an occasion; and, as the gossip went
+the round of the town, it arrived in time at Soeren's door. All were
+agreed that it was a most unhappy marriage, and a miserable home;
+some pitied, others condemned.
+
+Then the elder Miss Ludvigsen, with a certain solemnity, expressed
+herself as follows: "I can tell you what was at fault in that
+marriage, for I know the circumstances thoroughly. Even before her
+marriage there was something calculating, something almost prosaic
+in Marie's nature, which is entirely foreign to true, ideal love.
+This fault has since taken the upperhand, and is avenging itself
+cruelly upon both of them. Of course their means are not great, but
+what could that matter to two people who truly loved each other?
+for we know that happiness is not dependent on wealth. Is it not
+precisely in the humble home that the omnipotence of love is most
+beautifully made manifest?--And, besides, who can call these two
+poor? Has not heaven richly blessed them with healthy, sturdy
+children? These--these are their true wealth! And if their hearts
+had been filled with true, ideal love, then--then--"
+
+Miss Ludvigsen came to a momentary standstill.
+
+"What then?" asked a courageous young lady.
+
+"Then," continued Miss Ludvigsen, loftily, "then we should
+certainly have seen a very different lot in life assigned to them."
+
+The courageous young lady felt ashamed of herself.
+
+There was a pause, during which Miss Ludvigsen's words sank deep
+into all hearts. They all felt that this was the truth; any doubt
+and uneasiness that might perhaps have lurked here and there
+vanished away. All were confirmed in their steadfast and beautiful
+faith in true, ideal love; for they were all maiden ladies.
+
+
+
+WITHERED LEAVES.
+
+You _may_ tire of looking at a single painting, but you _must_ tire
+of looking at many. That is why the eyelids grow so heavy in the
+great galleries, and the seats are as closely packed as an omnibus
+on Sunday.
+
+Happy he who has resolution enough to select from the great
+multitude a small number of pictures, to which he can return every
+day.
+
+In this way you can appropriate--undetected by the custodians--a
+little private gallery of your own, distributed through the great
+halls. Everything which does not belong to this private collection
+sinks into mere canvas and gilding, a decoration you glance at in
+passing, but which does not fatigue the eye.
+
+It happens now and then that you discover a picture, hitherto
+overlooked, which now, after thorough examination, is admitted as
+one of the select few. The assortment thus steadily increases, and
+it is even conceivable that by systematically following this method
+you might make a whole picture-gallery, in this sense, your private
+property.
+
+But as a rule there is no time for that. You must rapidily take
+your bearings, putting a cross in the catalogue against the
+pictures you think of annexing, just as a forester marks his trees
+as he goes through the wood.
+
+These private collections, as a matter of course, are of many
+different kinds. One may often search them in vain for the great,
+recognized masterpieces, while one may find a little, unconsidered
+picture in the place of honor; and in order to understand the odd
+arrangement of many of these small collections, one must take as
+one's cicerone the person whose choice they represent. Here, now,
+is a picture from a private gallery.--
+
+There hung in a corner of the Salon of 1878 a picture by the
+English painter Mr. Everton Sainsbury. It made no sensation
+whatever. It was neither large enough nor small enough to arouse
+idle curiosity, nor was there a trace of modern extravagance either
+in composition or in color.
+
+As people passed they gave it a sympathetic glance, for it made a
+harmonious impression, and the subject was familiar and easily
+understood.
+
+It represented two lovers who had slightly fallen out, and people
+smiled as each in his own mind thought of those charming little
+quarrels which are so vehement and so short, which arise from the
+most improbable and most varied causes, but invariably end in a
+kiss.
+
+And yet this picture attracted to itself its own special public;
+you could see that it was adopted into several private collections.
+
+As you made your way towards the well-known corner, you would often
+find the place occupied by a solitary person standing lost in
+contemplation. At different times, you would come upon all sorts of
+different people thus absorbed; but they all had the same peculiar
+expression before that picture, as if it cast a faded, yellowish
+reflection.
+
+If you approached, the gazer would probably move away; it seemed as
+though only one person at a time could enjoy that work of art--as
+though one must be entirely alone with it.--
+
+In a corner of the garden, right against the high wall, stands an
+open summer-house. It is quite simply built of green lattice-work,
+which forms a large arch backed by the wall. The whole summer-house
+is covered with a wild vine, which twines itself from the left side
+over the arched roof, and droops its slender branches on the right.
+
+It is late autumn. The summer-house has already lost its thick roof
+of foliage. Only the youngest and most delicate tendrils of the
+wild vine have any leaves left. Before they fall, departing summer
+lavishes on them all the color it has left; like light sprays of
+red and yellow flowers, they hang yet a while to enrich the garden
+with autumn's melancholy splendor.
+
+The fallen leaves are scattered all around, and right before the
+summer-house the wind has with great diligence whirled the
+loveliest of them together, into a neat little round cairn.
+
+The trees are already leafless, and on a naked branch sits the
+little garden-warbler with its rust-brown breast--like a withered
+leaf left hanging--and repeats untiringly a little fragment which
+it remembers of its spring-song.
+
+The only thriving thing in the whole picture is the ivy; for ivy,
+like sorrow, is fresh both summer and winter.
+
+It comes creeping along with its soft feelers, it thrusts itself
+into the tiniest chinks, it forces its way through the minutest
+crannies; and not until it has waxed wide and strong do we realize
+that it can no longer be rooted up, but will inexorably strangle
+whatever it has laid its clutches on.
+
+Ivy, however, is like well-bred sorrow; it cloaks its devastations
+with fair and glossy leaves. Thus people wear a glossy mask of
+smiles, feigning to be unaware of the ivy-clad ruins among which
+their lot is cast.--
+
+In the middle of the open summer-house sits a young girl on a rush
+chair; both hands rest in her lap. She is sitting with bent head
+and a strange expression in her beautiful face. It is not vexation
+or anger, still less is it commonplace sulkiness, that utters
+itself in her features; it is rather bitter and crushing
+disappointment. She looks as if she were on the point of letting
+something slip away from her which she has not the strength to hold
+fast--as if something were withering between her hands.
+
+The man who is leaning with one hand upon her chair is beginning to
+understand that the situation is graver than he thought. He has
+done all he can to get the quarrel, so trivial in its origin,
+adjusted and forgotten; he has talked reason, he has tried
+playfulness; he has besought forgiveness, and humbled himself--
+perhaps more than he intended--but all in vain. Nothing avails to
+arouse her out of the listless mood into which she has sunk.
+
+Thus it is with an expression of anxiety that he bends down towards
+her: "But you know that at heart we love each other so much."
+
+"Then why do we quarrel so easily, and why do we speak so bitterly
+and unkindly to each other?"
+
+"Why, my dear! the whole thing was the merest trifle from the first."
+
+"That's just it! Do you remember what we said to each other? How we
+vied with each other in trying to find the word we knew would be
+most wounding? Oh, to think that we used our knowledge of each
+other's heart to find out the tenderest points, where an unkind
+word could strike home! And this we call love!"
+
+"My dear, don't take it so solemnly," he answered, trying a lighter
+tone. "People may be ever so fond of each other, and yet disagree a
+little at times; it can't be otherwise."
+
+"Yes, yes!" she cried, "there must be a love for which discord is
+impossible, or else--or else I have been mistaken, and what we call
+love is nothing but--"
+
+"Have no doubts of love!" he interrupted her, eagerly; and he
+depicted in warm and eloquent words the feeling which ennobles
+humanity in teaching us to bear with each other's weaknesses; which
+confers upon us the highest bliss, since, in spite of all petty
+disagreements, it unites us by the fairest ties.
+
+She had only half listened to him. Her eyes had wandered over the
+fading garden, she had inhaled the heavy atmosphere of dying
+vegetation--and she had been thinking of the spring-time, of hope,
+of that all-powerful love which was now dying like an autumn
+flower.
+
+"Withered leaves," said she, quietly; and rising, she scattered
+with her foot all the beautiful leaves which the wind had taken
+such pains to heap together.
+
+She went up the avenue leading to the house; he followed close
+behind her. He was silent, for he found not a word to say. A drowsy
+feeling of uneasy languor came over him; he asked himself whether
+he could overtake her, or whether she were a hundred miles away.
+
+She walked with her head bent, looking down at the flower-beds.
+There stood the asters like torn paper flowers upon withered
+potato-shaws; the dahlias hung their stupid, crinkled heads upon
+their broken stems, and the hollyhocks showed small stunted buds at
+the top, and great wet, rotting flowers clustering down their
+stalks.
+
+And disappointment and bitterness cut deep into the young heart. As
+the flowers were dying, she was ripening for the winter of life.
+
+So they disappeared up the avenue. But the empty chair remained
+standing in the half-withered summer-house, while the wind busied
+itself afresh in piling up the leaves in a little cairn.
+
+And in the course of time we all come--each in his turn--to seat
+ourselves on the empty chair in a corner of the garden and gaze on
+a little cairn of withered leaves.--
+
+
+
+THE BATTLE OF WATERLOO.
+
+Since it is not only entertaining in itself, but also consonant
+with use and wont, to be in love; and since in our innocent and
+moral society, one can so much the more safely indulge in these
+amatory diversions as one runs no risk of being disturbed either by
+vigilant fathers or pugnacious brothers; and, finally, since one
+can as easily get out of as get into our peculiarly Norwegian form
+of betrothal--a half-way house between marriage and free board in a
+good family--all these things considered I say, it was not
+wonderful that Cousin Hans felt profoundly unhappy. For he was not
+in the least in love.
+
+He had long lived in expectation of being seized by a kind of
+delirious ecstasy, which, if experienced people are to be trusted,
+is the infallible symptom of true love. But as nothing of the sort
+had happened, although he was already in his second year at
+college, he said to himself: "After all, love is a lottery if you
+want to win, you must at least table your stake. 'Lend Fortune a
+helping hand,' as they say in the lottery advertisements."
+
+He looked about him diligently, and closely observed his own heart.
+
+Like a fisher who sits with his line around his forefinger,
+watching for the least jerk, and wondering when the bite will come,
+so Cousin Hans held his breath whenever he saw a young lady,
+wondering whether he was now to feel that peculiar jerk which is
+well known to be inseparable from true love--that jerk which
+suddenly makes all the blood rush to the heart, and then sends it
+just as suddenly up into the head, and makes your face flush red to
+the very roots of your hair.
+
+But never a bite came. His hair had long ago flushed red to the
+roots, for Cousin Hans's hair could not be called brown; but his
+face remained as pale and as long as ever.
+
+The poor fisherman was growing quite weary, when he one day
+strolled down to the esplanade. He seated himself on a bench and
+observed, with a contemptuous air, a squad of soldiers engaged in
+the invigorating exercise of standing on one leg in the full
+sunshine, and wriggling their bodies so as to be roasted on both
+sides.
+
+"Nonsense!" [Note: The English word is used in the original] said
+Cousin Hans, indignantly; "it's certainly too dear a joke for a
+little country like ours to maintain acrobats of that sort. Didn't
+I see the other day that this so-called army requires 1500 boxes of
+shoe-blacking, 600 curry-combs, 3000 yards of gold-lace and 8640
+brass buttons?--It would be better if we saved what we spend in
+gold-lace and brass buttons, and devoted our half-pence to popular
+enlightenment," said Cousin Hans.
+
+For he was infected by the modern ideas, which are unfortunately
+beginning to make way among us, and which will infallibly end in
+overthrowing the whole existing fabric of society.
+
+"Good-bye, then, for the present," said a lady's voice close behind
+him.
+
+"Good-bye for the present, my dear," answered a deep, masculine
+voice.
+
+Cousin Hans turned slowly, for it was a warm day. He discovered a
+military-looking old man in a close-buttoned black coat, with an
+order at his buttonhole, a neck-cloth twisted an incredible number
+of times around his throat, a well-brushed hat, and light trousers.
+The gentleman nodded to a young lady, who went off towards the
+town, and then continued his walk along the ramparts.
+
+Weary of waiting as he was, Cousin Hans could not help following
+the young girl with his eyes as she hastened away. She was small
+and trim, and he observed with interest that she was one of the few
+women who do not make a little inward turn with the left foot as
+they lift it from the ground.
+
+This was a great merit in the young man's eyes; for Cousin Hans was
+one of those sensitive, observant natures who are alone fitted
+really to appreciate a woman at her full value.
+
+After a few steps the lady turned, no doubt in order to nod once
+again to the old officer; but by the merest chance her eyes met
+those of Cousin Hans.
+
+At last occurred what he had so long been expecting: he felt the
+bite! His blood rushed about just in the proper way, he lost his
+breath, his head became hot, a cold shiver ran down his back, and
+he grew moist between the fingers. In short, all the symptoms
+supervened which, according to the testimony of poets and
+experienced prose-writers, betoken real, true, genuine love.
+
+There was, indeed, no time to be lost. He hastily snatched up his
+gloves, his stick, and his student's cap, which he had laid upon
+the bench, and set off after the lady across the esplanade and
+towards the town.
+
+In the great, corrupt communities abroad this sort of thing is not
+allowable. There the conditions of life are so impure that a
+well-bred young man would never think of following a reputable
+woman. And the few reputable women there are in those nations,
+would be much discomposed to find themselves followed.
+
+But in our pure and moral atmosphere we can, fortunately, permit
+our young people somewhat greater latitude, just on account of the
+strict propriety of our habits.
+
+Cousin Hans, therefore, did not hesitate a moment in obeying the
+voice of his heart; and the young lady, who soon observed what
+havoc she had made with the glance designed for the old soldier,
+felt the situation piquant and not unpleasing.
+
+The passers-by, who, of course, at once saw what was going on (be
+it observed that this is one of the few scenes of life in which the
+leading actors are quite unconscious of their audience), thought,
+for the most part, that the comedy was amusing to witness. They
+looked round and smiled to themselves; for they all knew that
+either it would lead to nothing, in which case it was only the most
+innocent of youthful amusements; or it would lead to an engagement,
+and an engagement is the most delightful thing in the world.
+
+While they thus pursued their course at a fitting distance, now on
+the same sidewalk and now on opposite sides of the street, Cousin
+Hans had ample time for reflection.
+
+As to the fact of his being in love he was quite clear. The
+symptoms were all there; he knew that he was in for it, in for
+real, true, genuine, love; and he was happy in the knowledge. Yes,
+so happy was Cousin Hans that he, who at other times was apt to
+stand upon his rights, accepted with a quiet, complacent smile all
+the jostlings and shoves, the smothered objurgations and other
+unpleasantnesses, which inevitably befall any one who rushes
+hastily along a crowded street, keeping his eyes fixed upon an
+object in front of him.
+
+No--the love was obvious, indubitable. That settled, he tried to
+picture to himself the beloved one's, the heavenly creature's,
+mundane circumstances. And there was no great difficulty in that;
+she had been walking with her old father, had suddenly discovered
+that it was past twelve o'clock, and had hastily said good-bye for
+the present, in order to go home and see to the dinner. For she was
+doubtless domestic, this sweet creature, and evidently motherless.
+
+The last conjecture was, perhaps, a result of the dread of
+mothers-in-law inculcated by all reputable authors; but it was none
+the less confident on that account. And now it only remained for
+Cousin Hans to discover, in the first place, where she lived, in
+the second place who she was, and in the third place how he could
+make her acquaintance.
+
+Where she lived he would soon learn, for was she not on her way
+home? Who she was, he could easily find out from the neighbors. And
+as for making her acquaintance--good heavens! is not a little
+difficulty an indispensable part of a genuine romance?
+
+Just as the chase was at its height, the quarry disappeared into a
+gate-way; and it was really high time, for, truth to tell, the
+hunter was rather exhausted.
+
+He read with a certain relief the number, "34," over the gate, then
+went a few steps farther on, in order to throw any possible
+observer off the scent, and stopped beside a street-lamp to recover
+his breath. It was, as aforesaid, a warm day; and this, combined
+with his violent emotion, had thrown Hans into a strong
+perspiration. His toilet, too, had been disarranged by the reckless
+eagerness with which he had hurled himself into the chase.
+
+He could not help smiling at himself, as he stood and wiped his
+face and neck, adjusted his necktie, and felt his collar, which had
+melted on the sunny side. But it was a blissful smile, he was in
+that frame of mind in which one sees, or at any rate apprehends,
+nothing of the external world; and he said to himself, half aloud,
+"Love endures everything, accepts everything."
+
+"And perspires freely," said a fat little gentleman whose white
+waistcoat suddenly came within Cousin Hans's range of vision.
+
+"Oh, is that you, uncle?" he said, a little abashed.
+
+"Of course it is," answered Uncle Frederick. "I've left the shady
+side of the street expressly to save you from being roasted. Come
+along with me."
+
+Thereupon he tried to drag his nephew with him, but Hans resisted.
+"Do you know who lives at No. 34, uncle?"
+
+"Not in the least; but do let us get into the shade," said Uncle
+Frederick; for there were two things he could not endure: heat and
+laughter--the first on account of his corpulence, and the second on
+account of what he himself called "his apoplectic tendencies."
+
+"By-the-bye," he said, when they reached the cool side of the
+street, and he had taken his nephew by the arm, "now that I think
+of it, I do know, quite well, who lives in No. 34; it's old Captain
+Schrappe."
+
+"Do you know him?" asked Cousin Hans, anxiously.
+
+"Yes, a little, just as half the town knows him, from having seen
+him on the esplanade, where he walks every day."
+
+"Yes, that was just where I saw him," said his nephew. "What an
+interesting old gentleman he looks. I should like so much to have a
+talk with him."
+
+"That wish you can easily gratify," answered Uncle Frederick. "You
+need only place yourself anywhere on the ramparts and begin drawing
+lines in the sand, then he'll come to you."
+
+"Come to you?" said Cousin Hans.
+
+"Yes, he'll come and talk to you. But you must be careful: he's
+dangerous."
+
+"Eh?" said Cousin Hans.
+
+"He was once very nearly the end of me."
+
+"Ah!" said Cousin Hans.
+
+"Yes, with his talk, you understand."
+
+"Oh?" said Cousin Hans.
+
+"You see, he has two stories," continued Uncle Frederick, "the one,
+about a sham fight in Sweden, is a good half-hour long. But the
+other, the battle of Waterloo, generally lasts from an hour and a
+half to two hours. I have heard it three times." And Uncle
+Frederick sighed deeply.
+
+"Are they so very tedious, then, these stories? asked Cousin Hans.
+
+"Oh, they're well enough for once in a way," answered his uncle,
+"and if you should get into conversation with the captain, mark
+what I tell you: If you get off with the short story, the Swedish
+one, you have nothing to do but alternately to nod and shake your
+head. You'll soon pick up the lay of the land."
+
+"The lay of the land?" said Cousin Hans.
+
+"Yes, you must know that he draws the whole manoeuvre for you in
+the sand; but it's easy enough to understand if only you keep your
+eye on A and B. There's only one point where you must be careful
+not to put your foot in it."
+
+"Does he get impatient, then, if you don't understand?" asked
+Cousin Hans.
+
+"No, quite the contrary; but if you show that you're not following,
+he begins at the beginning again, you see! The crucial point in the
+sham fight," continued his uncle, "is the movement made by the
+captain himself, in spite of the general's orders, which equally
+embarrassed both friends and foes. It was this stroke of genius,
+between ourselves, which forced them to give him the Order of the
+Sword, to induce him to retire. So when you come to this point, you
+must nod violently, and say: 'Of course--the only reasonable move--
+the key to the position.' Remember that--the key."
+
+"The key," repeated Cousin Hans.
+
+"But," said his uncle, looking at him with anticipatory compassion,
+"if, in your youthful love of adventure, you should bring on
+yourself the long story, the one about Waterloo, you must either
+keep quite silent or have all your wits about you. I once had to
+swallow the whole description over again, only because, in my
+eagerness to show how thoroughly I understood the situation, I
+happened to move Kellermann's dragoons instead of Milhaud's
+cuirassiers!"
+
+"What do you mean by moving the dragoons, uncle?" asked Cousin
+Hans.
+
+"Oh, you'll understand well enough, if you come in for the long
+one. But," added Uncle Frederick, in a solemn tone, "beware, I warn
+you, beware of Bluecher!"
+
+"Bluecher?" said Cousin Hans.
+
+"I won't say anything more. But what makes you wish to know about
+this old original? What on earth do you want with him."
+
+"Does he walk there every forenoon?" asked Hans.
+
+"Every forenoon, from eleven to one, and every afternoon, from five
+to seven. But what interest--?"
+
+"Has he many children?" interrupted Hans.
+
+"Only one daughter; but what the deuce--?"
+
+"Good-bye, uncle!" I must get home to my books."
+
+"Stop a bit! Aren't you going to Aunt Maren's this evening? She
+asked me to invite you."
+
+"No, thanks, I haven't time," shouted Cousin Hans, who was already
+several paces away.
+
+"There's to be a ladies' party--young ladies!" bawled Uncle
+Frederick; for he did not know what had come over his nephew.
+
+But Hans shook his head with a peculiar energetic contempt, and
+disappeared round the corner.
+
+"The deuce is in it," thought Uncle Frederick, "the boy is crazy,
+or--oh, I have it!--he's in love! He was standing here, babbling
+about love, when I found him--outside No. 34. And then his interest
+in old Schrappe! Can he be in love with Miss Betty? Oh, no,"
+thought Uncle Frederick, shaking his head, as he, too, continued on
+his way, "I don't believe he has sense enough for that."
+
+
+II.
+
+Cousin Hans did not eat much dinner that day. People in love never
+eat much, and, besides, he did not care for rissoles.
+
+At last five o'clock struck. He had already taken up his position
+on the ramparts, whence he could survey the whole esplanade. Quite
+right: there came the black frock-coat, the light trousers, and the
+well-brushed hat.
+
+Cousin Hans felt his heart palpitate a little. At first he
+attributed this to a sense of shame in thus craftily setting a trap
+for the good old captain. But he soon discovered that it was the
+sight of the beloved one's father that set his blood in a ferment.
+Thus reassured, he began, in accordance with Uncle Frederick's
+advice, to draw strokes and angles in the sand, attentively fixing
+his eyes, from time to time, upon the Castle of Akerhuus.
+
+The whole esplanade was quiet and deserted. Cousin Hans could hear
+the captain's firm steps approaching; they came right up to him and
+stopped. Hans did not look up; the captain advanced two more paces
+and coughed. Hans drew a long and profoundly significant stroke
+with his stick, and then the old fellow could contain himself no
+longer.
+
+"Aha, young gentleman," he said, in a friendly tone, taking off his
+hat, "are you making a plan of our fortifications?"
+
+Cousin Hans assumed the look of one who is awakened from deep
+contemplation, and, bowing politely, he answered with some
+embarrassment: "No, it's only a sort of habit I have of trying to
+take my bearings wherever I may be."
+
+"An excellent habit, a most excellent habit," the captain exclaimed
+with warmth.
+
+"It strengthens the memory," Cousin Hans remarked, modestly.
+
+"Certainly, certainly, sir!" answered the captain, who was
+beginning to be much pleased by this modest young man.
+
+"Especially in situations of any complexity," continued the modest
+young man, rubbing out his strokes with his foot.
+
+"Just what I was going to say!" exclaimed the captain, delighted.
+"And, as you may well believe, drawings and plans are especially
+indispensable in military science. Look at a battle-field, for
+example."
+
+"Ah, battles are altogether too intricate for me," Cousin Hans
+interrupted, with a smile of humility.
+
+"Don't say that, sir!" answered the kindly old man. "When once you
+have a bird's-eye view of the ground and of the positions of the
+armies, even a tolerably complicated battle can be made quite
+comprehensible.--This sand, now, that we have before us here, could
+very well be made to give us an idea, in miniature, of, for
+example, the battle of Waterloo."
+
+"I have come in for the long one," thought Cousin Hans, "but never
+mind! [Note: In English in the original.] I love her."
+
+"Be so good as to take a seat on the bench here," continued the
+captain, whose heart was rejoiced at the thought of so intelligent
+a hearer, "and I shall try to give you in short outline a picture
+of that momentous and remarkable battle--if it interests you?"
+
+"Many thanks, sir," answered Cousin Hans, "nothing could interest
+me more. But I'm afraid you'll find it terribly hard work to make
+it clear to a poor, ignorant civilian."
+
+"By no means; the whole thing is quite simple and easy, if only you
+are first familiar with the lay of the land," the amiable old
+gentleman assured him, as he took his seat at Hans's side, and cast
+an inquiring glance around.
+
+While they were thus seated, Cousin Hans examined the captain more
+closely, and he could not but admit that in spite of his sixty
+years, Captain Schrappe was still a handsome man. He wore his
+short, iron-gray mustaches a little turned up at the ends, which
+gave him a certain air of youthfulness. On the whole, he bore a
+strong resemblance to King Oscar the First on the old sixpenny-pieces.
+
+And as the captain rose and began his dissertation, Cousin Hans
+decided in his own mind that he had every reason to be satisfied
+with his future father-in-law's exterior.
+
+The captain took up a position in a corner of the ramparts, a few
+paces from the bench, whence he could point all around him with a
+stick. Cousin Hans followed what he said, closely, and took all
+possible trouble to ingratiate himself with his future father-in-law.
+
+"We will suppose, then, that I am standing here at the farm of
+Belle-Alliance, where the Emperor has his headquarters; and to the
+north-fourteen miles from Waterloo--we have Brussels, that is to
+say, just about at the corner of the gymnastic-school.
+
+"The road there along the rampart is the highway leading to
+Brussels, and here," the captain rushed over the plain of Waterloo,
+"here in the grass we have the Forest of Soignies. On the highway
+to Brussels, and in front of the forest, the English are stationed--
+you must imagine the northern part of the battle-field somewhat
+higher than it is here. On Wellington's left wing, that is to say,
+to the eastward--here in the grass--we have the Chateau of
+Hougoumont; that must be marked," said the captain, looking about
+him.
+
+The serviceable Cousin Hans at once found a stick, which was fixed
+in the ground at this important point.
+
+"Excellent!" cried the captain, who saw that he had found an
+interested and imaginative listener. "You see it's from this side
+that we have to expect the Prussians."
+
+Cousin Hans noticed that the captain picked up a stone and placed
+it in the grass with an air of mystery.
+
+"Here at Hougoumont," the old man continued, "the battle began. It
+was Jerome who made the first attack. He took the wood; but the
+chateau held out, garrisoned by Wellington's best troops.
+
+"In the mean time Napoleon, here at Belle-Alliance, was on the
+point of giving Marshal Ney orders to commence the main attack upon
+Wellington's centre, when he observed a column of troops
+approaching from the east, behind the bench, over there by tree."
+
+Cousin Hans looked round, and began to feel uneasy: could Bluecher
+be here already?
+
+"Blue--Blue--" he murmured, tentatively.
+
+"It was Buelow," the captain fortunately went on, "who approached
+with thirty thousand Prussians. Napoleon made his arrangements
+hastily to meet this new enemy, never doubting that Grouchy, at any
+rate, was following close on the Prussians' heels.
+
+"You see, the Emperor had on the previous day detached Marshal
+Grouchy with the whole right wing of the army, about fifty thousand
+men, to hold Bluecher and Buelow in check. But Grouchy--but of course
+all this is familiar to you--" the captain broke off.
+
+Cousin Hans nodded reassuringly.
+
+"Ney, accordingly, began the attack with his usual intrepidity. But
+the English cavalry hurled themselves upon the Frenchmen, broke
+their ranks, and forced them back with the loss of two eagles and
+several cannons. Milhaud rushes to the rescue with his cuirassiers,
+and the Emperor himself, seeing the danger, puts spurs to his horse
+and gallops down the incline of Belle-Alliance."
+
+Away rushed the captain, prancing like a horse, in his eagerness to
+show how the Emperor rode through thick and thin, rallied Ney's
+troops, and sent them forward to a fresh attack.
+
+Whether it was that there lurked a bit of the poet in Cousin Hans,
+or that the captain's representation was really very vivid, or
+that--and this is probably the true explanation--he was in love
+with the captain's daughter, certain it is that Cousin Hans was
+quite carried away by the situation.
+
+He no longer saw a queer old captain prancing sideways; he saw,
+through the cloud of smoke, the Emperor himself on his white horse
+with the black eyes, as we know it from the engravings. He tore
+away over hedge and ditch, over meadow and garden, his staff with
+difficulty keeping up with him. Cool and calm, he sat firmly in his
+saddle, with his half-unbuttoned gray coat, his white breeches, and
+his little hat, crosswise on his head. His face expressed neither
+weariness nor anxiety; smooth and pale as marble, it gave to the
+whole figure in the simple uniform on the white horse an exalted,
+almost a spectral, aspect.
+
+Thus he swept on his course, this sanguinary little monster, who in
+three days had fought three battles. All hastened to clear the way
+for him, flying peasants, troops in reserve or advancing--aye, even
+the wounded and dying dragged themselves aside, and looked up at
+him with a mixture of terror and admiration, as he tore past them
+like a cold thunderbolt.
+
+Scarcely had he shown himself among the soldiers before they all
+fell into order as though by magic, and a moment afterwards the
+undaunted Ney could once more vault into the saddle to renew the
+attack. And this time he bore down the English and established
+himself in the farm-house of La Haie-Sainte.
+
+Napoleon is once more at Belle-Alliance.
+
+"And now here comes Buelow from the east--under the bench here, you
+see--and the Emperor sends General Mouton to meet him. At half-past
+four (the battle had begun at one o'clock) Wellington attempts to
+drive Ney out of La Haie-Sainte. But Ney, who now saw that
+everything depended on obtaining possession of the ground in front
+of the wood--the sand here by the border of the grass," the captain
+threw his glove over to the spot indicated, "Ney, you see, calls up
+the reserve brigade of Milhaud's cuirassiers and hurls himself at
+the enemy.
+
+"Presently his men were seen upon the heights, and already the
+people around the Emperor were shouting 'Victoire!'
+
+"'It is an hour too late,' answered Napoleon.
+
+"As he now saw that the Marshal in his new position was suffering
+much from the enemy's fire, he determined to go to his assistance,
+and, at the same time, to try to crush Wellington at one blow. He
+chose for the execution of this plan, Kellermann's famous dragoons
+and the heavy cavalry of the guard. Now comes one of the crucial
+moments of the fight; you must come out here upon the battle-field!"
+
+Cousin Hans at once rose from the bench and took the position the
+captain pointed out to him.
+
+"Now you are Wellington!" Cousin Hans drew himself up. "You are
+standing there on the plain with the greater part of the English
+infantry. Here comes the whole of the French cavalry rushing down
+upon you. Milhaud has joined Kellermann; they form an illimitable
+multitude of horses, breastplates, plumes and shining weapons.
+Surround yourself with a square!"
+
+Cousin Hans stood for a moment bewildered; but presently he
+understood the captain's meaning. He hastily drew a square of deep
+strokes around him in the sand.
+
+"Right!" cried the captain, beaming, "Now the Frenchmen cut into
+the square; the ranks break, but join again, the cavalry wheels
+away and gathers for a fresh attack. Wellington has at every moment
+to surround himself with a new square.
+
+"The French cavalry fight like lions: the proud memories of the
+Emperor's campaigns fill them with that confidence of victory which
+made his armies invincible. They fight for victory, for glory, for
+the French eagles, and for the little cold man who, they know,
+stands on the height behind them; whose eye follows every single
+man, who sees all, and forgets nothing.
+
+"But to-day they have an enemy who is not easy to deal with. They
+stand where they stand, these Englishmen, and if they are forced a
+step backwards, they regain their position the next moment. They
+have no eagles and no Emperor; when they fight they think neither
+of military glory nor of revenge; but they think of home. The
+thought of never seeing again the oak-trees of Old England is the
+most melancholy an Englishman knows. Ah, no, there is one which is
+still worse: that of coming home dishonored. And when they think
+that the proud fleet, which they know is lying to the northward
+waiting for them, would deny them the honor of a salute, and that
+Old England would not recognize her sons--then they grip their
+muskets tighter, they forget their wounds and their flowing blood;
+silent and grim, they clinch their teeth, and hold their post, and
+die like men."
+
+Twenty times were the squares broken and reformed, and twelve
+thousand brave Englishmen fell. Cousin Hans could understand how
+Wellington wept, when he said, "Night or Bluecher!"
+
+The captain had in the mean time left Belle-Alliance, and was
+spying around in the grass behind the bench, while he continued his
+exposition which grew more and more vivid: "Wellington was now in
+reality beaten and a total defeat was inevitable," cried the
+captain, in a sombre voice, "when this fellow appeared on the
+scene!" And as he said this, he kicked the stone which Cousin Hans
+had seen him concealing, so that it rolled in upon the field of
+battle.
+
+"Now or never," thought Cousin Hans.
+
+"Bluecher!" he cried.
+
+"Exactly!" answered the captain, "it's the old werewolf Bluecher,
+who comes marching upon the field with his Prussians."
+
+So Grouchy never came; there was Napoleon, deprived of his whole
+right wing, and facing 150,000 men. But with never failing coolness
+he gives his orders for a great change of front.
+
+But it was too late, and the odds were too vast.
+
+Wellington, who, by Bluecher's arrival, was enabled to bring his
+reserve into play, now ordered his whole army to advance. And yet
+once more the Allies were forced to pause for a moment by a furious
+charge led by Ney--the lion of the day.
+
+"Do you see him there!" cried the captain, his eyes flashing.
+
+And Cousin Hans saw him, the romantic hero, Duke of Elchingen,
+Prince of Moskwa, son of a cooper in Saarlouis, Marshal and Peer of
+France. He saw him rush onward at the head of his battalions--five
+horses had been shot under him with his sword in his hand, his
+uniform torn to shreds, hatless, and with the blood streaming down
+his face.
+
+And the battalions rallied and swept ahead; they followed their
+Prince of Moskwa, their savior at the Beresina, into the hopeless
+struggle for the Emperor and for France. Little did they dream
+that, six months later, the King of France would have their dear
+prince shot as a traitor to his country in the gardens of the
+Luxembourg.
+
+There he rushed around, rallying and directing his troops, until
+there was nothing more for the general to do; then he plied his
+sword like a common soldier until all was over, and he was carried
+away in the rout. For the French army fled.
+
+The Emperor threw himself into the throng; but the terrible hubbub
+drowned his voice, and in the twilight no one knew the little man
+on the white horse.
+
+Then he took his stand in a little square of his Old Guard, which
+still held out upon the plain; he would fain have ended his life on
+his last battlefield. But his generals flocked around him, and the
+old grenadiers shouted: "Withdraw, Sire! Death will not have you."
+
+They did not know that it was because the _Emperor_ had forfeited
+his right to die as a French soldier. They led him half-resisting
+from the field; and, unknown in his own army, he rode away into the
+darkness of the night, having lost everything. "So ended the battle
+of Waterloo," said the captain, as he seated himself on the bench
+and arranged his neck-cloth.
+
+--Cousin Hans thought with indignation of Uncle Frederick, who had
+spoken of Captain Schrappe in such a tone of superiority. He was,
+at least, a far more interesting personage than an old official
+mill-horse like Uncle Frederick.
+
+Hans now went about and gathered up the gloves and other small
+objects which the generals, in the heat of the fight, had scattered
+over the battle-field to mark the positions; and, as he did so, he
+stumbled upon old Bluecher. He picked him up and examined him
+carefully.
+
+He was a hard lump of granite, knubbly as sugar-candy, which almost
+seemed to bear a personal resemblance to "Feldtmarschall Vorwaerts."
+Hans turned to the captain with a polite bow.
+
+"Will you allow me, captain, to keep this stone. It will be the
+best possible memento of this interesting and instructive
+conversation, for which I am really most grateful to you." And
+thereupon he put Bluecher into his coat-tail pocket.
+
+The captain assured him that it had been a real pleasure to him to
+observe the interest with which his young friend had followed the
+exposition. And this was nothing but the truth, for he was
+positively enraptured with Cousin Hans.
+
+"Come and sit down now, young man. We deserve a little rest after a
+ten-hours' battle," he added, smiling.
+
+Cousin Hans seated himself on the bench and felt his collar with
+some anxiety. Before coming out, he had put on the most fascinating
+one his wardrobe afforded. Fortunately, it had retained its
+stiffness; but he felt the force of Wellington's words: "Night or
+Bluecher"--for it would not have held out much longer.
+
+It was fortunate, too, that the warm afternoon sun had kept
+strollers away from the esplanade. Otherwise a considerable
+audience would probably have gathered around these two gentlemen,
+who went on gesticulating with their arms, and now and then
+prancing around.
+
+They had had only one on-looker--the sentry who stands at the
+corner of the gymnastic-school.
+
+His curiosity had enticed him much too far from his post, for he
+had marched several leagues along the highway from Brussels to
+Waterloo. The captain would certainly have called him to order long
+ago for this dereliction of duty but for the fact that the
+inquisitive private had been of great strategic importance. He
+represented, as he stood there, the whole of Wellington's reserve;
+and now that the battle was over the reserve retired in good order
+northward towards Brussels, and again took up _le poste perdu_ at
+the corner of the gymnastic-school.
+
+
+III.
+
+"Suppose you come home and have some supper with me," said the
+captain; "my house is very quiet, but I think perhaps a young man
+of your character may have no great objection to passing an evening
+in a quiet family."
+
+Cousin Hans's heart leaped high with joy; he accepted the
+invitation in the modest manner peculiar to him, and they were soon
+on the way to No. 34.
+
+How curiously fortune favored him to-day! Not many hours had passed
+since he saw her for the first time; and now, in the character of a
+special favorite of her father, he was hastening to pass the
+evening in her company.
+
+The nearer they approached to No. 34, in the more life-like colors
+did the enchanting vision of Miss Schrappe stand before his eyes;
+the blonde hair curling over the forehead, the lithe figure, and
+then these roguish, light-blue eyes!
+
+His heart beat so that he could scarcely speak, and as they mounted
+the stair he had to take firm hold of the railing; his happiness
+made him almost dizzy.
+
+In the parlor, a large corner-room, they found no one. The captain
+went out to summon his daughter, and Hans heard him calling,
+"Betty!"
+
+Betty! What a lovely name, and how well it suited that lovely being!
+
+The happy lover was already thinking how delightful it would be
+when he came home from his work at dinner-time, and could call out
+into the kitchen: "Betty! is dinner ready?"
+
+At this moment the captain entered the room again with his
+daughter. She came straight up to Cousin Hans, took his hand, and
+bade him welcome.
+
+But she added, "You must really excuse me deserting you again at
+once, for I am in the middle of a dish of buttered eggs, and that's
+no joke, I can tell you."
+
+Thereupon she disappeared again; the captain also withdrew to
+prepare for the meal, and Cousin Hans was once more alone.
+
+The whole meeting had not lasted many seconds, and yet it seemed to
+Cousin Hans that in these moments he had toppled from ledge to
+ledge, many fathoms down, into a deep, black pit. He supported
+himself with both hands against an old, high-backed easy-chair; he
+neither heard, saw, nor thought; but half mechanically he repeated
+to himself: "It was not she--it was not she!"
+
+No, it was not she. The lady whom he had just seen, and who must
+consequently be Miss Schrappe, had not a trace of blonde hair
+curling over her brow. On the contrary, she had dark hair, smoothed
+down to both sides. Her eyes were not in the least roguish or light
+blue, but serious and dark-gray--in short, she was as unlike the
+charmer as possible.
+
+After his first paralysis, Cousin Hans's blood began to boil; a
+violent anguish seized him: he raged against the captain, against
+Miss Schrappe, against Uncle Frederick and Wellington, and the
+whole world.
+
+He would smash the big mirror and all the furniture, and then jump
+out of the corner window; or he would take his hat and stick, rush
+down-stairs, leave the house, and never more set foot in it; or he
+would at least remain no longer than was absolutely necessary.
+
+Little by little he became calmer, but a deep melancholy descended
+upon him. He had felt the unspeakable agony of disappointment in
+his first love, and when his eye fell on his own image in the
+mirror, he shook his head compassionately.
+
+The captain now returned, well-brushed and spick and span. He
+opened a conversation about the politics of the day. It was with
+difficulty that Cousin Hans could even give short and commonplace
+answers; it seemed as though all that had interested him in Captain
+Schrappe had entirely evaporated. And now Hans remembered that on
+the way home from the esplanade he had promised to give him the
+whole sham fight in Sweden after supper.
+
+"Will you come, please; supper is ready," said Miss Betty, opening
+the door into the dining-room, which was lighted with candles.
+
+Cousin Hans could not help eating, for he was hungry; but he looked
+down at his plate and spoke little.
+
+Thus the conversation was at first confined for the most part to
+the father and daughter. The captain, who thought that this bashful
+young man was embarrassed by Miss Betty's presence, wanted to give
+him time to collect himself.
+
+"How is it you haven't invited Miss Beck this evening, since she's
+leaving town to-morrow," said the old man. "You two could have
+entertained our guest with some duets."
+
+"I asked her to stay, when she was here this afternoon; but she was
+engaged to a farewell party with some other people she knows."
+
+Cousin Hans pricked up his ears; could this be the lady of the
+morning that they were speaking about?
+
+"I told you she came down to the esplanade to say good-bye to me,"
+continued the captain. "Poor girl! I'm really sorry for her."
+
+There could no longer be any doubt.
+
+"I beg your pardon--are you speaking of a lady with curly hair and
+large blue eyes?" asked Cousin Hans.
+
+"Exactly," answered the captain, "do you know Miss Beck?"
+
+"No," answered Hans, "it only occurred to me that it might be a
+lady I met down on the esplanade about twelve o'clock."
+
+"No doubt it was she" said the captain. "A pretty girl, isn't she?"
+
+"I thought her beautiful," answered Hans, with conviction. "Has she
+had any trouble?--I thought I heard you say--"
+
+"Well, yes; you see she was engaged for some months"--
+
+"Nine weeks," interrupted Miss Betty.
+
+"Indeed! was that all? At any rate her _fiance_ has just broken off
+the engagement, and that's why she is going away for a little
+while--very naturally--to some relations in the west-country, I
+think."
+
+So she had been engaged--only for nine weeks, indeed--but still, it
+was a little disappointing. However, Cousin Hans understood human
+nature, and he had seen enough of her that morning to know that her
+feelings towards her recreant lover could not have been true love.
+So he said:
+
+"If it's the lady I saw to-day, she seemed to take the matter
+pretty lightly."
+
+"That's just what I blame her for," answered Miss Betty.
+
+"Why so?" answered Cousin Hans, a little sharply; for, on the
+whole, he did not like the way in which the young lady made her
+remarks. "Would you have had her mope and pine away?"
+
+"No, not at all," answered Miss Schrappe; "but, in my opinion, it
+would have shown more strength of character if she had felt more
+indignant at her _fiance's_ conduct."
+
+"I should say, on the contrary, that it shows most admirable
+strength of character that she should bear no ill-will and feel no
+anger; for a woman's strength lies in forgiveness," said Cousin
+Hans, who grew eloquent in defence of his lady-love.
+
+Miss Betty thought that if people in general would show more
+indignation when an engagement was broken off, as so often
+happened, perhaps young people would be more cautious in these
+matters.
+
+Cousin Hans, on the other hand, was of opinion that when a _fiance_
+discovered, or even suspected, that he had made a mistake, and that
+what he had taken for love was not the real, true, and genuine
+article, he was not only bound to break off the engagement with all
+possible speed, but it was the positive duty of the other party,
+and of all friends and acquaintances, to excuse and forgive him,
+and to say as little as possible about the matter, in order that it
+might the sooner be forgotten.
+
+Miss Betty answered hastily that she did not think it at all the
+right thing that young people should enter into experimental
+engagements while they keep a look out for true love.
+
+This remark greatly irritated Cousin Hans, but he had no time to
+reply, for at that moment the captain rose from the table.
+
+There was something about Miss Schrappe that he really could not
+endure; and he was so much absorbed in this thought that, for a
+time, he almost forgot the melancholy intelligence that the beloved
+one--Miss Beck--was leaving town to-morrow.
+
+He could not but admit that the captain's daughter was pretty, very
+pretty; she seemed to be both domestic and sensible, and it was
+clear that she devoted herself to her old father with touching
+tenderness. And yet Cousin Hans said to himself: "Poor thing, who
+would want to marry her?"
+
+For she was entirely devoid of that charming helplessness which is
+so attractive in a young girl; when she spoke, it was with an
+almost odious repose and decision. She never came in with any of
+those fascinating half-finished sentences, such as "Oh, I don't
+know if you understand me--there are so few people that understand
+me--I don't know how to express what I mean; but I feel it so
+strongly." In short, there was about Miss Schrappe nothing of that
+vagueness and mystery which is woman's most exquisite charm.
+
+Furthermore, he had a suspicion that she was "learned." And
+everyone, surely, must agree with Cousin Hans that if a woman is to
+fulfil her mission in this life (that is to say, to be a man's
+wife) she ought clearly to have no other acquirements than those
+her husband wishes her to have, or himself confers upon her. Any
+other fund of knowledge must always be a dowry of exceedingly
+doubtful value.
+
+Cousin Hans was in the most miserable of moods. It was only eight
+o'clock, and he did not think it would do to take his departure
+before half-past nine. The captain had already settled himself at
+the table, prepared to begin the sham-fight. There was no chance of
+escape, and Hans took a seat at his side.
+
+Opposite to him sat Miss Betty, with her sewing, and with a book in
+front of her. He leaned forward and discovered that it was a German
+novel of the modern school.
+
+It was precisely one of those works which Hans was wont to praise
+loudly when he developed his advanced views, colored with a little
+dash of free-thought. But to find this book here, in a lady's
+hands, and, what was more, in German (Hans had read it in a
+translation), was in the last degree unpleasing to him.
+
+Accordingly, when Miss Betty asked if he liked the novel, he
+answered that it was one of the books which should only be read by
+men of ripened judgment and established principles, and that it was
+not at all suited for ladies.
+
+He saw that the girl flushed, and he felt that he had been rude.
+But he was really feeling desperate, and, besides, there was
+something positively irritating in this superior little person.
+
+He was intensely worried and bored; and, to fulfil the measure of
+his suffering, the captain began to make Battalion B advance "under
+cover of the night."
+
+Cousin Hans now watched the captain moving match-boxes, penknives,
+and other small objects about the table. He nodded now and then,
+but he did not pay the slightest attention. He thought of the
+lovely Miss Beck, whom he was, perhaps, never to see again; and now
+and then he stole a glance at Miss Schrappe, to whom he had been so
+rude.
+
+He gave a sudden start as the captain slapped him on the shoulder,
+with the words, "And it was this point that I was to occupy. What
+do you think of that?"
+
+Uncle Frederick's words flashed across Cousin Hans's mind, and,
+nodding vehemently, he said: "Of course, the only thing to be done--
+the key to the position?"
+
+The captain started back and became quite serious. But when he saw
+Cousin Hans's disconcerted expression, his good-nature got the
+upperhand, and he laughed and said:
+
+"No, my dear sir! there you're quite mistaken. However," he added,
+with a quiet smile, "it's a mistake which you share with several of
+our highest military authorities. No, now let me show you the key
+to the position."
+
+And then he began to demonstrate at large that the point which he
+had been ordered to occupy was quite without strategical importance;
+while, on the other hand, the movement which he made on his own
+responsibility placed the enemy in the direst embarrassment, and
+would have delayed the advance of Corps B by several hours.
+
+Tired and dazed as Cousin Hans was, he could not help admiring the
+judicious course adopted by the military authorities towards
+Captain Schrappe, if, indeed, there was anything in Uncle
+Frederick's story about the Order of the Sword.
+
+For if the captain's original manoeuvre was, strategically
+speaking, a stroke of genius, it was undoubtedly right that he
+should receive a decoration. But, on the other hand, it was no less
+clear that the man who could suppose that in a sham-fight it was in
+the least desirable to delay or embarass any one was quite out of
+place in an army like ours. He ought to have known that the true
+object of the manoeuvres was to let the opposing armies, with their
+baggage and commissariat wagons, meet at a given time and in a
+given place, there to have a general picnic.
+
+While Hans was buried in these thoughts, the captain finished the
+sham-fight. He was by no means so pleased with his listener as he
+had been upon the esplanade; he seemed, somehow, to have become
+absent-minded.
+
+It was now nine o'clock; but, as Cousin Hans had made up his mind
+that he would hold out till half-past nine, he dragged through one
+of the longest half-hours that had ever come within his experience.
+The captain grew sleepy, Miss Betty gave short and dry answers;
+Hans had himself to provide the conversation--weary, out of temper,
+unhappy and love-sick as he was.
+
+At last the clock was close upon half-past nine; he rose,
+explaining that he was accustomed to go early to bed, because he
+could read best when he got up at six o'clock.
+
+"Well, well," said the captain, "do you call this going early to
+bed? I assure you I always turn in at nine o'clock."
+
+Vexation on vexation! Hans said good-night hastily, and rushed
+down-stairs.
+
+The captain accompanied him to the landing, candle in hand, and
+called after him cordially, "Good-night--happy to see you again."
+
+"Thanks!" shouted Hans from below; but he vowed in his inmost soul
+that he would never set foot in that house again.--
+
+--When the old man returned to the parlor, he found his daughter
+busy opening the windows.
+
+"What are you doing that for?" asked the captain.
+
+"I'm airing the room after him," answered Miss Betty.
+
+"Come, come, Betty, you are really too hard upon him. But I must
+admit that the young gentleman did not improve upon closer
+acquaintance. I don't understand young people nowadays."
+
+Thereupon the captain retired to his bedroom, after giving his
+daughter the usual evening exhortation, "Now don't sit up too
+long."
+
+When she was left alone, Miss Betty put out the lamp, moved the
+flowers away from the corner window, and seated herself on the
+window-sill with her feet upon a chair.
+
+On clear moonlight evenings she could descry a little strip of
+the fiord between two high houses. It was not much; but it was a
+glimpse of the great highway that leads to the south, and to
+foreign lands.
+
+And her desires and longings flew away, following the same course
+which has wearied the wings of so many a longing--down the narrow
+fiord to the south, where the horizon is wide, where the heart
+expands, and the thoughts grow great and daring.
+
+And Miss Betty sighed as she gazed at the little strip of the fiord
+which she could see between the two high houses.
+
+--She gave no thought, as she sat there, to Cousin Hans; but he
+thought of Miss Schrappe as he passed with hasty steps up the
+street.
+
+Never had he met a young lady who was less to his taste. The fact
+that he had been rude to her did not make him like her better. We
+are not inclined to find those people amiable who have been the
+occasion of misbehavior on our own part. It was a sort of comfort
+to him to repeat to himself, "Who would want to marry her?"
+
+Then his thoughts wandered to the charmer who was to leave town
+to-morrow. He realized his fate in all its bitterness, and he felt
+a great longing to pour forth the sorrow of his soul to a friend
+who could understand him.
+
+But it was not easy to find a sympathetic friend at that time of
+night.
+
+After all, Uncle Frederick was his confidant in many matters; he
+would look him up.
+
+As he knew that Uncle Frederick was at Aunt Maren's, he betook
+himself towards the Palace in order to meet him on his way back
+from Homan's Town. He chose one of the narrow avenues on the right,
+which he knew to be his uncle's favorite route; and a little way up
+the hill he seated himself on a bench to wait.
+
+It must be unusually lively at Aunt Maren's to make Uncle Frederick
+stop there until after ten. At last he seemed to discern a small
+white object far up the avenue; it was Uncle Frederick's white
+waistcoat approaching.
+
+Hans rose from the bench and said very seriously, "Good-evening!"
+
+Uncle Frederick was not at all fond of meeting solitary men in dark
+avenues; so it was a great relief to him to recognize his nephew.
+
+"Oh, is it only you, Hans old fellow?" he said, cordially. "What
+are you lying in ambush here for?"
+
+"I was waiting for you," answered Hans, in a sombre tone of voice.
+
+"Indeed? Is there anything wrong with you? Are you ill?"
+
+"Don't ask me," answered Cousin Hans.
+
+This would at any other time have been enough to call forth a
+hail-storm of questions from Uncle Frederick.
+
+But this evening he was so much taken up with his own experiences
+that for the moment he put his nephew's affairs aside.
+
+"I can tell you, you were very foolish," he said, "not to go with
+me to Aunt Maren's. We have had such a jolly evening, I'm sure you
+would have enjoyed it. The fact is, it was a sort of farewell party
+in honor of a young lady who's leaving town to-morrow."
+
+A horrible foreboding seized Cousin Hans.
+
+"What washer name?" he shrieked, gripping his uncle by the arm.
+
+"Ow!" cried his uncle, "Miss Beck."
+
+Then Hans collapsed upon the bench.
+
+But scarcely had he sunk down before he sprang up again, with a
+loud cry, and drew out of his coat-tail pocket a knubbly little
+object, which he hurled away far down the avenue.
+
+"What's the matter with the boy?" cried Uncle Frederick, "What was
+that you threw away?"
+
+"Oh, it was that confounded Bluecher," answered Cousin Hans, almost
+in tears.
+
+--Uncle Frederick scarcely found time to say, "Didn't I tell you to
+beware of Bluecher?" when he burst into an alarming fit of laughter,
+which lasted from the Palace Hill far along Upper Fort Street.
+
+
+
+THE END.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Tales of Two Countries, by Alexander Kielland
+
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