The contents of the parcel exceeded the botanists' wildest expectations.
They were radiantly happy over it, and delighted with Katharine. She had
stamped herself on their minds as a woman of sense, who had understood
that the parcel had been the entity and herself the non-entity.
"Obviously a person of discernment," Ejnar remarked several times to
Tante, who laughed secretly when she observed that the impersonal
botanist was beginning to show distinct signs of human appreciation as
well. He even left his study once or twice, and came to sit with the
ladies on the balcony, bringing his long pipe with him. He did not speak
much, of course, and when he did he never touched on human affairs. But
Katharine had seen these flowers, and in an unscientific but vivid way
she could tell him a little about them, and a great deal about the
botanists who had sent the precious gift. Gerda and he listened with
rapt attention while she described to them the Colorado botanists'
herbarium. She told them that they were rich, but that they did not care
for a grand house. They lived in a small 'frame house,' and had built a
princely herbarium, which, together with their wonderful botanic garden,
was the chief feature of their property.
"They do not care about human grandeur," Katharine said, in conclusion.
"That is as it ought to be," exclaimed Ejnar and Gerda approvingly.
"All the same," remarked Tante, "I would prefer to inhabit that
herbarium, and put the stupid dried plants in the cottage. But then I
know I have a base human soul. Always have had--isn't it so, dear ones?"
"Yes, yes," said Ejnar and Gerda. "And you've always liked comfort."
"Yes," replied Tante--"good English comfort. Give me good English
comfort and mange tak![F] Let me be base and comfortable, like my
darling, much-abused English people."
"Are you really so fond of them, Fröken Knudsgaard?" Katharine said
warmly; for every one feels a glow of pleasure at hearing one's country
praised in a foreign land.
"Ja, I love them," Knutty replied, smiling at her; "and I spend half my
time in fighting their battles. Even here I have several deadly
conflicts every day with a Norwegian magistrate and a fur-merchant from
the north. But now you've come, you can defend your own country much
better than I can. But I shall always be delighted to help."
"Ja, she loves them," said Gerda. "And that Englishman of hers is the
only person for whom she cares in the whole world. Ejnar and I have been
jealous of that Englishman ever since I can remember."
"I have told you hundreds of times that it is absurd to be jealous of an
iceberg," Knutty said, with a twinkle in her eye.--"You know, Miss
Frensham, they are speaking of my dear Clifford Thornton, whom I've
known and loved ever since he was seven years old. There is no one like
him on earth----"
"Ak," said Gerda, "if she begins to talk to you about her Englishman,
all is lost. Don't encourage her, Fröken. Take my advice. Tell us
something more about the Colorado botanists and their garden. Moreover,
the Englishman is soon coming himself. That will make her happy."
"_He is coming_," Katharine said eagerly, turning to Tante; "_he is
coming here_?"
"Yes," said Tante, nodding at her.
And the quick old Dane glanced at her and saw how the light of a great
happiness had come into her eyes.
"Yes," Tante said; "he has given up the journey to Japan, and I suppose
he and his boy will be here in a week or so."
"In a week or so?" Katharine repeated, as though she could scarcely
believe it.
Then, with a gaiety which delighted them all, she turned impulsively to
the botanists and continued telling them all the details she could
remember of that wonderful garden and the interesting collection of
cactuses, and the different kinds of pepper-trees. And Gerda and Ejnar,
entranced, kept on saying:
"Ja, and what more?" And Tante kept on thinking:
"Surely I see daylight! But, good heavens, what can we do to get rid of
these botanists? Wretched creatures! Why don't they go back to their
study provided so thoughtfully by me? And what a darling she is, and how
delightful to look upon, and with a fine temperament. Simple and easy as
a child. Built on a big scale, mind and body. Like the Gaard itself.
Ja, ja. And then to think of that Marianne! Ak, what a brute I am! Never
mind. Let me remain a brute! Oh, those botanists! If only they would go
to their study and quarrel about the Mariposa lily, or cactuses, or
salix, or something. And just look at Ejnar! He is becoming human. He is
leaving the vegetable and entering the animal kingdom. By St Olaf, he
has picked up her handkerchief! Ah, and here is Ragnhild coming to the
Stabur to ring the bell for dinner. Nã, after dinner, we can have a
talk about my Clifford."
So after dinner Tante took entire possession of Katharine, but much
against the botanists' wishes. And Gerda said privately:
"Well, at least, don't bore her by talking about your Englishman all the
time. You yourself saw how glad she was to get away from a subject which
could not possibly interest her, and to continue to talk to us about
Arizona and Colorado."
In answer Tante had a mysterious attack of laughter, and gave Gerda a
specially affectionate hug; and, having assured her that she would use
moderation, walked off with Katharine to show her, so she said, the
principal sights of the Gaard, and to introduce her to some of her
intimate friends, all of whom were interested in the arrival of the
Englishwoman, the first English person they had ever seen. Knutty was
proud that Katharine had such a fine appearance and such a charming way
with every one. The Sollis, Johann himself, and Mor Inga, in their
grave, reserved fashion, were kindly to her; and Karl, a most
unemotional creature, was quite excited when she spoke some German to
him. Bedstemor arrived on the scene, having heard that an English guest
had come to the Gaard; and when Katharine was presented to her, she
greeted her with great dignity, and said to Tante:
"She is nice looking, this Englishwoman. But thou shouldst have seen
_me_ when I was young."
This was translated to Katharine, who said to Tante:
"Tell her that I can see her in my mind's eye as a beautiful young girl;
but she has not forgotten how to be beautiful in her old age."
Bedstemor was gratified, patted her on the back, and told her that she
might come one day and drink coffee with her and see her wedding-cap.
Then she was introduced to old Kari, whom they passed on their way to
Tante's favourite resting-place, an old black barn near a group of
mountain-ashes. Kari was standing outside the great cowhouse; she looked
at Katharine critically, seemed to approve of her, and said:
"She is nice looking, and strong too. She could do a good day's work in
the fields. And how many children has she got?"
"Well, I _suppose_ she has not any," laughed wicked old Tante. "She is
not married."
"Perhaps she will find a husband here," said Kari reflectively.
"Perhaps she will," laughed Tante; and she was passing on when Kari came
a little nearer to her and said mysteriously:
"If thou wilt come into the cowhouse to-morrow, I think I can tell thee
something thou wilt like to hear--about the Huldre,[G] the beautiful
long-tailed one--but thou must come alone. And I will sing to thee again
very willingly, for thou art a kind one. And to-morrow Mette makes
Fladbröd.[H] If thou dost wish to see her make the Fladbröd, thou shalt
most certainly. Ja, and Mette can sing too. Thou shalt hear her also."
Then she nodded and disappeared into the cowhouse. Tante and Katharine
paused for a moment to look at the picturesque winter-house of the
seventy cows, and its long, grass-grown roof, its two bridges leading up
to the top floor, where some of the hay was stored, and its most curious
gap in the centre of the upper floor, through which one could see
enclosed in a great oblong frame the valley below, the rivers, and the
distant mountains. Tante pointed out this beautiful picture to Katharine
and said:
"You know, I really enjoy Nature very much, although I pretend not to do
so just to tease Ejnar and Gerda. Ah, they are dears, both of them. It
was good of you to come and bring them their parcel. You do not know how
eagerly you have been looked for--by them and by me. Of course they
wanted their parcel; but I had another reason for being eager to receive
you. May a wicked old woman tell you something some day?"
"Tell me now," Katharine said, turning to her.
"Well," said Tante recklessly, "it may be only an old woman's fancy; but
he said in his letter that you did not really need a letter of
introduction to me, since you were coming to see Ejnar and Gerda, and
therefore me. But he felt that he could not be left out in the cold
where you were concerned."
"Did he say that?" asked Katharine, with a tremor in her voice.
"Yes," answered Tante; and they strolled on together in silence until
they came to the hay-barn on the hillside, near the mountain-ashes,
Tante's terminus. There they sat, still in silence, but with their
hearts and thoughts charged with the remembrance of Clifford Thornton.
It was a long silence, probably the longest which Knutty had ever
endured without impatience; for an instinctive comradeship had sprung up
between her and this Englishwoman in whose eyes the light of love had
come when Clifford Thornton's name was spoken. They were both glad to be
together, and they knew it. At last Knutty said:
"My dear, since we are both thinking of him all the time, shall we not
speak of him?"
And Katharine looked up and answered simply:
"Yes, let us speak of him."
So they spoke of him: Knutty with warm affection and pity; Katharine
with sympathetic interest. That was all. She spoke of him as one
traveller might speak of another traveller, both of them having met on
some mountain-path in a distant land, spoken some words of greeting, and
then passed on. That was all the personal part she thought she put into
it.
But Knutty listened, and heard distinct unspoken words.
[Footnote F: _Mange tak_, many thanks.]
[Footnote G: The general name for the legendary "mountain people."]
[Footnote H: A thin kind of bread, like Passover cake.]