"Cousin Louise, are you fond of fish--bream for instance?" asked the
Landed Proprietor one evening, as he seated himself by the side of
Louise, who was busy working a landscape in tapestry.
"Oh, yes! bream is a very good fish," answered she, phlegmatically,
without looking up.
"Oh, with red-wine sauce, delicious! I have splendid fishing on my
estate, Oestanvik. Big fellows of bream! I fish for them myself."
"Who is the large fish there?" inquired Jacobi of Henrik, with an
impatient sneer; "and what is it to him if your sister Louise is fond of
bream or not?"
"Because then she might like him too, _mon cher_! A very fine and solid
fellow is my cousin Thure of Oestanvik. I advise you to cultivate his
acquaintance. What now, Gabrielle dear, what now, your Highness?"
"What is that which--"
"Yes, what is it? I shall lose my head over that riddle. Mamma dear,
come and help your stupid son!"
"No, no! Mamma knows it already. She must not say it!" exclaimed
Gabrielle with fear.
"What king do you place above all other kings, Magister?" asked Petrea
for the second time,--having this evening her "raptus" of questioning.
"Charles the Thirteenth," answered the Candidate, and listened for what
Louise was going to reply to the Landed Proprietor.
"Do you like birds, Cousin Louise?" asked the Landed Proprietor.
"Oh yes, particularly the throstle," answered Louise.
"Well,--I am glad of that!" said the Landed Proprietor. "On my estate,
Oestanvik, there is an immense quantity of throstles. I often go out
with my gun, and shoot them for my dinner. Piff, paff! with two shots I
have directly a whole dishful."
Petrea, who was asked by no one "Do you like birds, cousin?" and who
wished to occupy the Candidate, did not let herself be deterred by his
evident confusion, but for the second time put the following
question:--"Do you think, Magister, that people before the Flood were
really worse than they are nowadays?"
"Oh, much, much better," answered the Candidate.
"Are you fond of roasted hare, Cousin Louise?" asked the Landed
Proprietor.
"Are you fond of roasted hare, Magister?" whispered Petrea waggishly to
Jacobi.
"Brava, Petrea!" whispered her brother to her.
"Are you fond of cold meat, Cousin Louise?" asked the Landed
Proprietor, as he was handing Louise to the supper-table.
"Are you fond of Landed Proprietor?" whispered Henrik to her as she left
it.
Louise answered just as a cathedral would have answered: she looked very
solemn and was silent.
After supper Petrea was quite excited, and left nobody alone who by any
possibility could answer her. "Is reason sufficient for mankind? What is
the ground of morals? What is properly the meaning of 'revelation'? Why
is everything so badly arranged in the State? Why must there be rich and
poor?" etc., etc.
"Dear Petrea!" said Louise, "what use can there be in asking those
questions?"
It was an evening for questions; they did not end even when the company
had broken up.
"Don't you think, Elise," said the Lagman to his wife when they were
alone, "that our little Petrea begins to be disagreeable with her
continual questioning and disputing? She leaves no one in peace, and is
stirred up herself the whole time. She will make herself ridiculous if
she keeps on in this way."
"Yes, if she does keep on so. But I have a feeling that she will change.
I have observed her very particularly for some time, and do you know, I
think there is really something very uncommon in that girl."
"Yes, yes, there is certainly something uncommon in her. Her liveliness
and the many games and schemes which she invents--"
"Yes, don't you think they indicate a decided talent for the fine arts?
And then her extraordinary thirst for learning: every morning, between
three and four o'clock, she gets up in order to read or write, or to
work at her compositions. That is not at all a common thing. And may not
her uneasiness, her eagerness to question and dispute, arise from a sort
of intellectual hunger? Ah, from such hunger, which many women must
suffer throughout their lives, from want of literary food,--from such an
emptiness of the soul arise disquiet, discontent, nay, innumerable
faults."
"I believe you are right, Elise," said the Lagman, "and no condition in
life is sadder, particularly in more advanced years. But this shall not
be the lot of our Petrea--that I will promise. What do you think now
would benefit her most?"
"My opinion is that a serious and continued plan of study would assist
in regulating her mind. She is too much left to herself with her
confused tendencies, with her zeal and her inquiry. I am too ignorant
myself to lead and instruct her, you have too little time, and she has
no one here who can properly direct her young and unregulated mind.
Sometimes I almost pity her, for her sisters don't understand at all
what is going on within her, and I confess it is often painful to
myself; I wish I were more able to assist her. Petrea needs some ground
on which to take her stand. Her thoughts require more firmness; from the
want of this comes her uneasiness. She is like a flower without roots,
which is moved about by wind and waves."
"She shall take root, she shall find ground as sure as it is to be found
in the world," said the Lagman, with a serious and beaming eye, at the
same time striking his hand on the book containing the law of West
Gotha, so that it fell to the ground. "We will consider more of this,
Elise," continued he: "Petrea is still too young for us to judge with
certainty of her talents and tendencies. But if they turn out to be what
they appear, then she shall never feel any hunger as long as I live and
can procure bread for my family. You know my friend, the excellent
Bishop B----: perhaps we can at first confide our Petrea to his
guidance. After a few years we shall see; she is still only a child.
Don't you think that we ought to speak to Jacobi, in order to get him to
read and converse with her? Apropos, how is it with Jacobi? I imagine
that he begins to be too attentive to Louise."
"Well, well! you are not so far wrong; and even our cousin Thure of
Oestanvik,--have you perceived anything there?"
"Yes, I did perceive something yesterday evening; what the deuce was his
meaning with those stupid questions he put to her? 'Does cousin like
this?' or 'Is cousin fond of that?' I don't like that at all myself.
Louise is not yet full-grown, and already people come and ask her, 'Does
cousin like--?' Well, it may signify very little after all, which would
perhaps please me best. What a pity, however, that our cousin is not a
little more manly; for he has certainly got a most beautiful estate, and
so near us."
"Yes, a pity; because, as he is at present, I am almost sure Louise
would find it impossible to give him her hand."
"You do not believe that her inclination is toward Jacobi?"
"To tell the truth, I fancy that this is the case."
"Nay, that would be very unpleasant and very unwise: I am very fond of
Jacobi, but he has nothing and is nothing."
"But, my dear, he may get something and become something; I confess,
dear Ernst, that I believe he would suit Louise better for a husband
than any one else we know, and I would with pleasure call him my son."
"Would you, Elise? then I must also prepare myself to do the same. You
have had most trouble and most labor with the children, it is therefore
right that you should decide in their affairs."
"Ernst, you are so kind!"
"Say just, Elise; not more than just. Besides, it is my opinion that our
thoughts and inclinations will not differ much. I confess that Louise
appears to me to be a great treasure, and I know of nobody I could give
her to with all my heart; but if Jacobi obtains her affections, I feel
that I could not oppose their union, although it would be painful to me
on account of his uncertain prospects. He is really dear to me, and we
are under great obligations to him on account of Henrik; his excellent
heart, his honesty, and his good qualities, will make him as good a
citizen as a husband and father, and I consider him to be one of the
most agreeable men to associate with daily. But, God bless me! I speak
as if I wished the union, but that is far from my desire: I would much
rather keep my daughters at home, so long as they find themselves happy
with me; but when girls grow up, there is never any peace to depend on.
I wish all lovers and questioners a long way off. Here we could live
altogether as in a kingdom of heaven, now that we have got everything in
such order. Some small improvements may still be wanted, but this will
be all right if we are only left in peace. I have been thinking that we
could so easily make a wardrobe here: do you see on this side of the
wall--don't you think if we were to open--What! are you asleep
already, my dear?"
* * * * *
Louise was often teased about Cousin Thure; Cousin Thure was often
teased about Cousin Louise. He liked very much to be teased about his
Cousin Louise, and it gave him great pleasure to be told that Oestanvik
wanted a mistress, that he himself wanted a good wife, and that Louise
Frank was decidedly one of the wisest and most amiable girls in the
whole neighborhood, and of the most respectable family. The Landed
Proprietor was half ready to receive congratulations on his betrothal.
What the supposed bride thought about the matter, however, is difficult
to divine. Louise was certainly always polite to her "Cousin Thure," but
more indifference than attachment seemed to be expressed in this
politeness; and she declined, with a decision astonishing to many a
person, his constantly repeated invitations to make a tour to Oestanvik
in his new landau drawn by "my chestnut horses," four-in-hand. It was
said by many that the agreeable and friendly Jacobi was much nearer to
Louise's heart than the rich Landed Proprietor. But even towards Jacobi
her behavior was so uniform, so quiet, and so unconstrained that nobody
knew what to think. Very few knew so well as we do that Louise
considered it in accordance with the dignity of a woman to show perfect
indifference to the attentions or _doux propos_ of men, until they had
openly and fully explained themselves. She despised coquetry to that
degree that she feared everything which had the least appearance of it.
Her young friends used to joke with her upon her strong notions in this
respect, and often told her that she would remain unmarried.
"That may be!" answered Louise calmly.
One day she was told that a gentleman had said, "I will not stand up for
any girl who is not a little coquettish!"
"Then he may remain sitting!" answered Louise, with a great deal of
dignity.
Louise's views with regard to the dignity of woman, her serious and
decided principles, and her manner of expressing them, amused her young
friends, at the same time that they inspired them with great regard for
her, and caused many little contentions and discussions in which Louise
fearlessly, though not without some excess, defended what was right.
These contentions, which began in merriment, sometimes ended quite
differently.
A young and somewhat coquettish married lady felt herself one day
wounded by the severity with which Louise judged the coquetry of her
sex, particularly of married ladies, and in revenge she made use of some
words which awakened Louise's astonishment and anger at the same time.
An explanation followed between the two, the consequence of which was a
complete rupture between Louise and the young lady, together with an
altered disposition of mind in the former, which she in vain attempted
to conceal. She had been unusually joyous and lively during the first
days of her stay at Axelholm; but she now became silent and thoughtful,
often absent; and some people thought that she seemed less friendly than
formerly towards the Candidate, but somewhat more attentive to the
Landed Proprietor, although she constantly declined his invitation "to
take a tour to Oestanvik."
The evening after this explanation took place, Elise was engaged with
Jacobi in a lively conversation in the balcony.
"And if," said Jacobi, "if I endeavor to win her affections, oh, tell
me! would her parents, would her mother see it without displeasure? Ah,
speak openly with me; the happiness of my life depends upon it!"
"You have my approval and my good wishes," answered Elise; "I tell you
now what I have often told my husband, that I should very much like to
call you my son!"
"Oh!" exclaimed Jacobi, deeply affected, falling on his knees and
pressing Elise's hand to his lips: "oh, that every act in my life might
prove my gratitude, my love--!"
At this moment Louise, who had been looking for her mother, approached
the balcony; she saw Jacobi's action and heard his words. She withdrew
quickly, as if she had been stung by a serpent.
From this time a great change was more and more perceptible in her.
Silent, shy, and very pale, she moved about like a dreaming person in
the merry circle at Axelholm, and willingly agreed to her mother's
proposal to shorten her stay at this place.
Jacobi, who was as much astonished as sorry at Louise's sudden
unfriendliness towards him, began to think the place was somehow
bewitched, and wished more than once to leave it.
* * * * *