The family is assembled in the library; tea is just finished. Louise, at
the pressing request of Gabrielle and Petrea, lays out the cards in
order to tell the sisters their fortune. The Candidate seats himself
beside her, and seems to have made up his mind to be a little more
cheerful. But then "the object" looks more like a cathedral than ever.
The Landed Proprietor enters, bows, blows his nose, and kisses the hand
of his "gracious aunt."
_Landed Proprietor_--Very cold this evening; I think we shall have
frost.
_Elise_--It is a miserable spring; we have just read a melancholy
account of the famine in the northern provinces; these years of dearth
are truly unfortunate.
_Landed Proprietor_--Oh yes, the famine up there. No, let us talk of
something else; that is too gloomy. I have had my peas covered with
straw. Cousin Louise, are you fond of playing Patience? I am very fond
of it myself; it is so composing. At Oestanvik I have got very small
cards for Patience; I am quite sure you would like them, Cousin Louise.
The Landed Proprietor seats himself on the other side of Louise. The
Candidate is seized with a fit of curious shrugs.
_Louise_--This is not Patience, but a little conjuring by means of which
I can tell future things. Shall I tell your fortune, Cousin Thure?
_Landed Proprietor_--Oh yes! do tell my fortune; but don't tell me
anything disagreeable. If I hear anything disagreeable in the evening, I
always dream of it at night. Tell me now from the cards that I shall
have a pretty little wife;--a wife beautiful and amiable as
Cousin Louise.
_The Candidate (with an expression in his eyes as if he would send the
Landed Proprietor head-over-heels to Oestanvik)_--I don't know whether
Miss Louise likes flattery.
_Landed Proprietor (who takes no notice of his rival)_--Cousin Louise,
are you fond of blue?
_Louise_--Blue? It is a pretty color; but I almost like green better.
_Landed Proprietor_--Well, that's very droll; it suits exceedingly well.
At Oestanvik my drawing-room furniture is blue; beautiful light-blue
satin. But in my bedroom I have green moreen. Cousin Louise, I
believe really--
The Candidate coughs as though he were going to be suffocated, and
rushes out of the room. Louise looks after him and sighs, and afterwards
sees in the cards so many misfortunes for Cousin Thure that he is
quite frightened. "The peas frosted!"--"conflagration in the
drawing-room"--and at last "a basket" ["the mitten"]. The Landed
Proprietor declares still laughingly that he will not receive "a
basket." The sisters smile and make their remarks.