"It will be several years before there is any timber to fell."
How well informed Joergen was! How carefully he had thought the whole
thing out!
They had now reached the stretch of level road which led along the shore
to the last headland before Krogskogen. At a farm here there was a surly
old Lapland dog. Mary and he were good friends. He always barked a
little as people came up; probably he did not see well; but as soon as
he scented an acquaintance his tail began to wag.
To-day he was furious.
"Dear me!" exclaimed Mary, "is it you who are making him so angry,
Joergen?"
Joergen did not answer, but stooped to pick up a small stone. When the
dog saw this, he scurried off with his tail between his legs to the
shelter of a heap of sticks, and there continued to bark.
"Don't do it!" said Mary, as she saw Joergen taking aim.
"It will be interesting to see whether or not he retreats in the exact
direction of my aim--if he does, the stone will hit him on the back." As
Joergen spoke, he pretended to throw. Off rushed the dog. Then he threw,
and the stone landed exactly where he had said. The dog howled.
"You see!" said Joergen exultingly. "There are not many who can throw
like that, I can tell you."
"Do you shoot equally well?"
"Certainly. What I do, Mary--it isn't much, I know--but I do it fairly
well."
This she was obliged to admit. The dog's distant fury also confirmed the
statement.
As they were taking the short cut up to the house, Joergen began: "Do you
think we should say anything to Mrs. Dawes or to your father about
this?"
"About Uncle Klaus?"
"Yes. It will only distress them. Can't we say that Uncle Klaus asked us
to wait till spring?"
Mary stood still. Such a line of action was not to her mind. But Joergen
continued:
"I know Uncle Klaus better than you do. He will repent soon. He will
certainly not give in to us; but he will make a proposal of his
own--probably what I am asking you to say--that we should wait till
spring."
Mary had already discovered how well informed Joergen was; so she could
not but allow that he was probably better able to judge than she. But
she was unaccustomed to roundabout methods.
"Let me manage it," Joergen said. "I'll spare the old people a
disappointment."
"But what am _I_ to say, then?" asked Mary.
"What is perfectly true. That Uncle Klaus was delighted to hear of our
engagement; but that as times are so bad just now, we shall be obliged
to wait. And this is really the case."
Mary agreed, the more willingly because she thought it considerate of
Joergen to wish to spare the old people. For this he received her best
thanks--and her hand again. He kept hold of it until they reached the
house, and even whilst they mounted the steps. He thought to himself:
"This is the pledge of a kiss in the hall. But I'll take ten!"
He opened the door and let Mary pass in first. Nodding brightly to him
as she passed, she made quickly for the stairs and disappeared up them.
He heard her go into her own room.
Carefully as Joergen chose his words in communicating the result of their
expedition, it was a sad disappointment to the old people. It was
inexplicable to them both, but especially to Mrs. Dawes, who thought the
decision arrived at cruel. Mary was to spend the long winter alone here,
and Joergen in Stockholm. They might possibly see each other for a few
days at Christmas, but that would be all. Curiously enough, the old
people's disappointment reacted upon Joergen. He sat moping like a sick
bird, had nothing to say, hardly answered Mrs. Dawes when she spoke to
him, and presently went off to prepare for his departure next morning.
His leave had expired, and he was going direct to Stockholm.
Mary alone was in good spirits. One would have supposed that she had no
concern whatever in the matter. To her the day had, to all appearance,
brought no disappointment. The triumphant mood in which she had been
ever since she graciously proclaimed their engagement in her father's
room, far from having abated, was more pronounced than ever. She went
humming about the rooms and passages, and seemed to have no end of
arrangements to make, as if it were she who was about to take an
important and long journey. At supper she joked and teased until Joergen
began to have an uncomfortable suspicion that she was making fun of him.
At last he said plainly that he could not understand her. He thought she
ought rather to be sorry for him. She was to remain here in her own
comfortable home, working for those whom she loved, whilst he----. Now
he _hated_ what he was going back to, because it took him away from her!
He repented his exchange into the diplomatic service. He loathed
Stockholm. He knew what an inferior position a young man occupied there
who had no good introductions, and who, in addition to this, was
Norwegian. He was, in short, unhappy, and grumbled freely.
"You who distinguished yourself in the confirmation class, Joergen, don't
you know that Jacob had to work seven whole years for Rachel?"
"And how many have I not worked for you, Mary?"
"Ah! the reason of that is that you began far too early. It's a bad
habit you have acquired--that of beginning too early."
"Was it possible to see you without...? You are unjust to yourself."
"You had other aims, Joergen, besides winning me."
"So had that business-man, Jacob. And he had the advantage over me, that
whilst working and waiting he could see Rachel as often as he liked."
"Well, well--he who has waited so many years, Joergen, can surely wait
half a year longer."
"It is easy for you to talk, you who have never waited--never for
anything!"
Mary was silent.
"But that you should tease me into the bargain, Mary--I who, even when I
am beside you, must exist on such meagre fare!"
"You think you have cause of complaint, Joergen?"
"Yes, I do."
"You began far too early, remember!" And Mary laughed.
This put Joergen out, but presently he repeated: "You don't understand
what it means to wait."
"So much I do understand, that it comes easier to those who live on
meagre fare." And she laughed again.
Joergen was both offended and perplexed. A woman who really cared for him
would hardly have behaved thus on the eve of parting from him for
several months, and with such poor prospects as they had of being able
to marry.
They sat for a short time beside her father, and longer beside Mrs.
Dawes. Joergen was quiet--hardly spoke. But Mary was gay. Mrs. Dawes
watched them in surprise. Turning to Joergen, she said: "Poor boy, you
must come here at Christmas!" Mary answered for him: "Aunt Eva, it is
just at Christmas that Stockholm is pleasantest."
Suddenly Mary rose and very unexpectedly said good-night, first to
Joergen, then to Mrs. Dawes.
"I am tired after the walk, and I must be up early to-morrow to see
Joergen off."
Joergen felt that this sudden departure was a piece of deliberate
mischief. She wished to escape saying good-night to him in the passage.
He vowed to revenge himself. He was skilled in the art.
Mrs. Dawes asked if there were any misunderstanding between them. He
said there was none. She did not believe it; he had to assure her again
solemnly that he knew of none. But he could not conceal that he was out
of temper; he could not even bear to sit there any longer. When he left
he found the passage, contrary to custom, dark, and had to grope his way
to his own door. Not till he had lit his lamp and listened involuntarily
for any sound from Mary's room, did it occur to him that the door-handle
had been made noiseless. In the morning it had creaked--very little; but
it certainly had creaked. Never had he been in such a well-ordered house
as this, where the very slightest thing amiss was instantly put
right--even on a Sunday. He could not imagine greater happiness than to
return here when everything should be satisfactorily arranged, to rest,
and to live as long as he chose in the manner which his ardent desire
for the pleasures of the senses pictured.
Therefore patience! He would submit to Mary's caprices now, as he had
submitted to his uncle's before--until his time came!
He was undressing, when the door opened noiselessly, and Mary entered,
in her night-dress--dazzlingly beautiful. She closed the door behind her
and went forward to the lamp. "You shall not wait, Joergen," said she, as
she extinguished the light.