Jacob Worse's mother was regarded as quite a character in the town. When
her husband died, he was about as insolvent as a man could be. For
several years he had only kept his business going by means of unlimited
credit, but up to the very last he managed to keep one of the gayest
houses in the town. Nothing was left but a mass of bills and liabilities
when he was gone. People shook their heads, and went one and all to the
widow to condole with her. There were both friends and enemies among
them, but all alike were creditors. Some were for selling her up at
once, and others wished to keep the business going, while one wished to
buy the horses privately. The "Boston-parti"[A] to which the deceased
belonged, agreed to give the widow a monthly allowance. For a few days
Mrs. Worse was quite bewildered and broken down by the ruin she had so
little expected. She had never had the slightest knowledge of her
husband's affairs, but she was quite convinced that he was very rich. On
the evening after the funeral she was sitting alone with her son Jacob,
who was a boy of about seven or eight, when a little wizened,
grey-haired man came into the room, who, after respectfully wishing Mrs.
Worse good evening, laid on the table some account-books and papers. The
old man was well known to Mrs. Worse: it was Mr. Peter Samuelsen,
commonly known as Pitter Nilken, the manager of the small shop in the
back premises. Worse's property had consisted of an entire building, of
which the front looked out towards the sea and the quay where the
steamers were moored, and at the back was a little dark lane, where
Pitter Nilken had his shop. Worse never liked anybody to allude to the
shop; he considered that he was far too respectable a man of business
for anything of the sort. He used to say that it was mostly for old
Samuelsen's sake, that he kept the little shop going; it could have no
importance in a concern like his.
[Footnote A: "Boston" is a game of cards, and the
"Boston-parti" is a club, the members of which meet and play
at each other's houses.]
Mrs. Worse had also believed this story; but that afternoon she learnt
to think otherwise. It was quite clear to her, after hearing Mr.
Samuelsen's figures and calculations, that the shop was not at all to be
despised, and she came at last to perceive that this was what had really
so long kept everything going.
The two sat over their figures far into the night. At first
comprehension seemed quite hopeless to Mrs. Worse. The explanations she
had heard from her husband's friends and creditors during the last few
days were so complicated, and couched in terms beyond her understanding;
but with Peter Samuelsen it was quite otherwise. He never went on until
he was quite sure that she comprehended what he said. At length it all
began to dawn upon her, and she kept on repeating, "I declare, it is all
as clear as daylight."
Next morning she ordered her carriage and drove off alone. The scandal
this excited in the town was beyond description. To think that she, who
scarcely owned the very clothes on her back, should have the audacity to
drive in a carriage and pair before the very noses of those whom her
husband had swindled! The general feeling towards her had hitherto been
favourable, and several people could not help feeling a mischievous
delight at the idea of seeing the haughty Mrs. Worse live on a monthly
allowance. But now all were as hard as stone. Mrs. Worse herself did not
seem to be so nervous as she was the day before, and when she entered
Consul Carman's office, with Pitter Nilken's papers under her arm, her
step was as firm and confident as a man's.
It was now several years since Worse had left the firm, but some
ill-feeling had long remained on both sides, and the deceased and Mr.
Garman had never got on well together. It was thus no light matter for
the widow to betake herself to Consul Garman; but Mr. Samuelsen had
assured her that it was quite out of the question to think of keeping
the business going without a guarantee from Garman and Worse.
When the Consul saw Mrs. Worse come into the room, he imagined that she
was bringing a subscription-list to raise the means for educating her
son, or something of that sort; and, as he offered her a chair on the
opposite side of the table, he turned over in his mind how much he
should subscribe. But when Mrs. Worse began to give an explanation of
her affairs, according to the calculations of Pitter Nilken, the
Consul's manner changed, and he got up, walked round the table, and
seated himself near her. He calmly and patiently examined each paper,
went through the calculations and figures, and at last read the draught
of a guarantee which Samuelsen had made, with the greatest attention.
"Who has assisted you with all this, Mrs. Worse?" he asked.
"Mr. Samuelsen," she answered, somewhat anxiously.
"Samuelsen? Samuelsen?" repeated the Consul.
"Yes, that is to say, Pitter Nilken. Perhaps you know him better by that
name."
"Ah yes! the little man in the shop. H'm! Does Mr. Samuelsen wish to go
into partnership with you?"
"No. I have asked him, but he prefers to remain in his present position,
and give me his assistance in the business."
The Consul got up with the guarantee in his hand. It was one of his
peculiarities that he could not write the signature of the firm except
when he was sitting in his usual place. But as soon as he had seated
himself in the old wooden armchair, he wrote in a large and bold hand,
"Garman and Worse," taking care to adorn the signature with several
flourishes, which he had inherited from his predecessors.
Armed with this document, Mrs. Worse and Mr. Samuelsen set to work at
the ruins. The first thing they did was to sell everything there was to
sell; but, with the assistance of Mr. Garman, they managed to save the
whole of the valuable premises. The front of the house was let, and the
old lady moved over to the back, where she took turns in the shop with
Mr. Samuelsen. She was at her post from early in the morning till late
in the evening, gossiping with her customers, and selling tobacco,
tallow candles, salt, coffee, tar-twine, herrings, train oil, paraffin,
tarpaulins, paint, and many other commodities.
In the course of a few years Mrs. Worse quite lost her manners. People
in polite society had never forgiven her her drive, but still less were
they willing to look over the fact that she, a lady, had not more
self-respect than to sink down into the position of a common shop-woman.
The lower orders, on the other hand, had quite a fellow-feeling for Mrs.
Worse, and the dingy little shop was just to their taste; and thus,
contrary to all expectation, Mrs. Worse's business, common little retail
affair as it was, went on capitally.
The trustworthy Mr, Samuelsen did the work of three. He was a little
grey shrivelled man, with a face like a dried fig. He might be forty, or
he might be sixty, it was not easy to tell. In his monotonous life there
had only been one single event which he particularly remembered, and
that was the afternoon when he had taken his books and calculations in
to Mrs. Worse, and since that time he had, with the greatest honesty,
helped her to overcome her many difficulties. Mr. Samuelsen had also his
own private enemies to contend against, and these consisted of nearly
all the school children in the town. It had always been, and was still,
a favourite amusement for the children to "Sing for Pitter Nilken." The
game was carried on in the following manner. Boys and girls all
assembled, the more the merrier, generally in the dusk of the evening,
and sneaked quietly down into the alley at the back of the Worses'
house, and when they got under Samuelsen's shop-window, they began
singing, to a well-known air--
"Little Pitter Nilken,
Sitting on his chair!
He's always growing smaller,
The longer he sits there."
This couplet was repeated again and again, each time in a louder tone,
until the tormented man seized his iron ruler and sprang over the
counter. Then off flew the crowd, screaming and shouting along the
narrow lane, for there was an old tradition that the iron ruler had a
rusty stain of blood on it. Samuelsen would then retire quietly to his
desk. In the course of years the episode had been of constant
occurrence, and he well knew that the only way of getting a little peace
was to make this sally with the ruler.
No one could blame Mrs. Worse for making an idol of her son; he was all
she had to care for. Although Jacob was a good son, and grew up strong
and healthy, he had cost his mother many tears when he came home from
school bruised and untidy after a fight. The boy had almost too much
spirit, as the principal said, and when he was roused he did not mind
tackling the biggest and strongest boys in the school. But he got better
as time went on, and when he came home from abroad to take his place in
the business, he was, and not only in his mother's opinion, one of the
best-looking and most agreeable young men in the town.
Jacob Worse took his father's old office in the front of the house,
which looked on to the market and the quay. He carried on a business
partly on commission and partly on his own account. He did a good deal
of trade, particularly in corn, which had hitherto been almost entirely
in the hands of Garman and Worse. The old firm had established itself so
securely on every side, that he seemed to meet them whichever way he
turned.
Morten wished that Garman and Worse should at once use their strength,
and crush their tiny rival before he had had time to become dangerous,
but Consul Garman would not hear of it. He seemed to have an
extraordinary liking for Worse, and even went out of his way to help
him, and latterly "the rival" had become a constant Sunday guest at
Sandsgaard.
At first Jacob Worse did not like leaving his mother on Sunday, but Mrs.
Worse said, "Go along, you great stupid! do you suppose that Samuelsen
and I care to have you sitting and laughing at us when we are playing
draughts; and besides," said she, giving him a sly poke with her finger,
"don't you know there is somebody out there that expects you?"
"Ah, mother, do stop those insinuations of yours; you know perfectly
well nothing will ever come of it."
"Now, Jacob," said Mrs. Worse, with her arms akimbo, "you think yourself
very clever, but I tell you you are as stupid as an owl, a barn-door
owl, when it is anything to do with women. You ought to see it must all
come right some day. I dare say Miss Rachel is a little bit singular,
but she is not quite cracked. You see, it will all get straight in the
end; it will still all come right some day."
This was the refrain of all Mrs. Worse's observations on this head, and
her son saw plainly it was of no use to contradict her. It was of no use
either to advise her to give up her shop, or, at any rate, to give up
the management to somebody else.
"Why, I should die of dropsy," said she, "and Samuelsen would dry up to
nothing in about a fortnight, if we had not got the shop to attend to."
"Yes," suggested Jacob, "but still you need not work any longer: you
have earned some rest for your old days; besides, your legs are not so
young as they were."
"As to my legs," cried Mrs. Worse, with a gesture of impatience, "my
legs are quite good enough for a shop-woman."
"Well, why not get a horse and carriage? You have every right to have
one."
"I took a drive once that made stir enough," answered his mother; "I
hope to take another some day, but that won't be before everything comes
right."
It was no use trying to persuade her, and so she and Samuelsen remained
in the back premises they were so fond of, and Jacob set up his
establishment in the front.
When Mrs. Worse was in her son's rooms, she used to play the fine lady
to her own great edification; but when she got him into her own
apartments, her behaviour entirely changed, and her laughter was coarse
and noisy. Her manners had really quite gone.
One Saturday afternoon Delphin came into Jacob Worse's office with some
books he had borrowed.
"Have you heard that I have bought a horse?" asked he, in a merry tone.
"No," answered Worse. "What new folly now?"
"Well, you see, I have got an idea that it will make a favourable
impression on Miss Madeleine if she sees me on horseback. Just fancy me
on a horse with a long mane and tail, like the picture of General Prim;
there!" and he went cantering round the room, and pulled up suddenly
before Worse--"there, like that: a good fierce expression. Is not that
it? I believe that will do the business."
Worse could not help laughing, although he did not think much of the
frivolous way Delphin had of paying his addresses to Madeleine.
"You are not going to ride up to Sandsgaard this morning?"
"No, not exactly; it would not do. I can't very well go up there dressed
for riding, and if I were to ride in these clothes I should look absurd.
But I thought of riding out there this evening, somewhere about seven
o'clock. Just fancy me coming in over the garden wall with a flying
salute, and lighted by the last rays of the evening sun! Why, it would
be irresistible."
"Well, I am afraid, or perhaps I ought rather to say I hope, that Miss
Madeleine will not fully appreciate your novel way of paying her your
addresses," said Worse, half-seriously.
"Ah, my most respected friend, you know very little of woman's heart;
and how should you, when your ideal is a woman who goes in for her
rights? a tall bony creature with a moustache under her nose, and
'Woman's wrongs' under her arm."
"Leave off, will you?" cried Worse. "You are just in your most
disagreeable vein. You had better go off to young Mrs. Garman. She will
find you most amusing to-day."
"A good idea, which I was already thinking of," answered Delphin, as he
took his hat; "and at the same time I will take a place for myself in
her carriage for to-morrow."
"Won't you drive with me?" cried Worse after him.
"No, thanks; I would rather go with Mrs. Garman, if for nothing else
than to have the pleasure of seeing her worthy husband on the box," said
he, as he went out of the door.
Jacob Worse stood watching him. At first he had been very glad to make
Delphin's acquaintance. There were not many young men in the town with
whom he could associate. Delphin was intelligent, well read on different
subjects, and when alone was good company enough. But by-and-by he
showed more of the frivolous side of his character, and Worse began to
get a little tired of his friend.
Fanny was sitting all this time in a state of absolute boredom. Little
Christian Frederick had gone out with his nurse, and the street was
uninteresting, dusty, hot, and thronged by country people making their
Saturday purchases. She did not care to look out of the window, but sat
leaning back in her most comfortable armchair, yawning in front of the
glass. Would it be better to send for Madeleine? it was several days
since she had paid her a visit. But then she would have to play the part
of go-between again. Or should she begin on her own account? Yes; why
not? But then he never came except when Madeleine was there. It really
was too tiresome.
When he now came unexpectedly into the room it gave her quite a start,
but she still remained leaning back in her armchair, and gave him her
left hand, which was the nearest, as she said, "I am glad to see you. I
was just thinking of you as I was sitting here all alone."
"It was very kind of you, I am sure," answered he, as he sat down in a
chair in front of her.
"Yes; all sorts of foolish things come into one's head when one is
sitting alone."
"I hope I was not the most foolish thing that could come into your
thoughts," answered Delphin, jestingly. "But it is quite true; you have
been left a great deal alone lately."
"Yes; but perhaps I have my own reasons for it."
"May I venture to ask what these reasons are?"
"Perhaps it would be better if I were to tell you," said she, regarding
attentively the point of her shoe, which projected from her dress as she
lay back in her chair. She had tiny pointed French shoes with straps
across the instep, through which appeared a blue silk stocking.
"I assure you I shall be very thankful, and at the same time most
discreet."
"Well, then, Madeleine is so young," said Fanny, as if following the
train of her own thoughts, "that I feel it to a certain extent my duty
to look after her, and--"
"I scarcely see that it is absolutely necessary," answered he.
"Yes; but when a girl so inexperienced as Madeleine is brought into
contact with gentlemen who are--well, who are so clever as, for
instance, yourself, Mr. Delphin, you see--" She looked at him as she
paused in her sentence.
"You are paying me too great a compliment," said he, laughing; "and
besides, you can never imagine that I would take advantage--"
"Nonsense!" rejoined Fanny; "I know all about that. You are just like
all the rest. You would never hesitate to take advantage of even the
slightest opportunity; would you, now? Tell me frankly."
"Well," answered he, rising, "if you really wish for an honest answer, I
must confess that when I see a strawberry that nobody else seems to
notice, I generally pick it."
"Yes; it is just that greediness that all men have, and which I find, at
the same time, so dangerous and incomprehensible."
"Yes; but, Mrs. Garman, strawberries are really so delicious."
"Yes, when they are ripe," answered Fanny.
The words fell from her lips as smoothly as butter. Delphin had taken a
few paces across the room, and just turned in time to see the last
glimpse of a look which must have been resting on him while she spoke.
It was not very often that he lost his self-possession in a conversation
of this kind, but the discovery he had made, or thought that he had
made, with all its uncertainty, and the feeling of pleased vanity it
brought with it, confused him, and he stood stammering and blushing
before her. She still lay stretched in the armchair, a position which
displayed to the best advantage the lines of her lovely form. Her beauty
was fully matured, and showed freedom and elegance in every movement.
She could see that she had said enough for the present, and she got up
without apparently taking any notice of his confusion.
"You must think," said she quickly, with a smile, "that it is absurd for
me to preach you a sermon. We all have to attend to our own affairs; and
if you will excuse me, I have to go and try on a dress. Good-bye, Mr.
Delphin; I hope you will find your strawberries to your taste."
Delphin was quite confounded; but before he had had time to get his hat
she put her head in at the door, still smiling, and cried, "You will
drive over with me to-morrow?" and, without waiting for an answer, she
nodded her head and disappeared.
Delphin had hardly recovered himself when he went for his ride to
Sandsgaard, and he quite forgot about the flying salute over the garden
wall, for there was no one to be seen either at the window or in front
of the house. The fact was, his adventure had made such an impression on
him that he did not take very much notice.
Fanny at first repelled his advances haughtily; but he accepted his fate
with resignation. George Delphin was not the man to lose his time or his
temper, in a hopeless pursuit. There are many respectable prizes in a
lottery without aiming at the first. But now here was the chance of
winning the great prize, the charming Fanny, the admiration of all. His
heart swelled with pride, and if Jacob Worse could have seen the look
with which he regarded the passers-by, it would certainly have reminded
him of General Prim.
The next day at Sandsgaard, Fanny and Madeleine were together during the
whole afternoon. Delphin could not manage to get an opportunity of
talking to either separately. Just once he came upon Fanny in the
morning-room at the piano, but she got up and went out hurriedly as he
entered. As they drove home that evening scarcely a word passed between
them. Fanny kept gazing the whole time over the fjord, of which they
caught glimpses from time to time through the trees of the avenue. It
was a still, peaceful autumn evening, and Delphin was in an excited
mood. Each time he moved he felt the rustle of her silk dress, the folds
of which nearly filled the carriage. Both sat quite silent to the end of
the drive.
During the next few days Madeleine was again staying with her cousin,
whom she found more gracious than ever. Delphin came even more
frequently than before; but she did not meet him during her walks, a
fact which she related to Fanny. Fanny said with a smile that Delphin
was perfectly right, and his conduct was only proper, now that people
had begun to talk about their frequent walks together.
Madeleine thought with regret upon how much there is to be careful of in
this world; but a short time afterwards she met Mr. Delphin, and during
the pleasant walk they had together he was most attentive, and in the
best of spirits.
Fanny was now more beaming than ever. Whenever she saw her own and
Madeleine's reflection in the glass, which, to tell the truth, was very
often the case, a smile of satisfaction would pass over her features.
Without Madeleine having a suspicion, the _rôles_ had been changed, and
the play was ready to begin, now that Fanny had made up her mind that
the parts were in the right hands.