"Dear Nora,
"I know beforehand that this will not be a regular letter, I have no time for one. I almost think that you had better not show it to the others, they will hardly understand my feelings. Last, but not least, there is something which divides the others from us two; I feel that instinctively. If only I could do away with some of what I--feel, I had almost written again. You must know that I have passed the greatest, the most beautiful, the most enchanting day in my life.
"Ah! now you are curious. I will not bother you, but all the same I must begin with how and why I came to do so.
"When we arrived at Copenhagen, who should meet us at the station but Niels Fürst! Of course it had been arranged between him and papa. I saw that at once, but papa is so clever at keeping a secret. Do you know where Niels Fürst came from? From Sofiero. Yes, now it is written, and you understand the whole thing. I told you that, long ago, papa had had the honour of being invited by his Majesty to come and see Sofiero the next time he went abroad. There are not many Norwegians to whom that has happened, so it was very flattering to papa.
"He had said nothing to me; he did not wish to make me nervous before the time, he said. Fürst came straight from Sofiero--fancy, he is perhaps to be made orderly officer to the prince who is a sailor--his Royal Highness Prince Oscar, that is to say. Fürst told us at what time the train would leave the next day. Good heavens! actually the next day. We were expected, then! I was not allowed to make any toilette, I was to appear just in my travelling dress, as papa was to do as well. That naughty Lieutenant Fürst--you know he is related to us--he calls me cousin, though I am not one. He said I was pretty enough as I was. Do you know him?
"It was now a question of getting some sleep after the journey--one does not look well when one has not slept. I have never struggled so hard to go to sleep before. I was terribly startled, you see. I thought about the stupidest things in the world. Do you remember chief custom-house officer Jacobsen's nose? I lay and stared at his nose, till I really fell asleep thinking of it and of the town bailiff; and I can tell you I was so tired, that when I was once asleep, I slept like a top. I was, thank goodness, none the worse when I got up. But it was awful, really awful later on. You have never been in such circumstances, so perhaps it may seem odd to you that the more I thought of the important moment, and that I had no lady to refer to (men can never tell one anything, and so they laugh), the more terrified I became. It was rather a cold morning, and one thing with the other, the cold and the fright--Fürst called it cannon fever--I was most miserably uncomfortable. It was dreadfully silly; at last I could not altogether conceal it. You understand. But I consoled myself with the thought that I was not the first girl to whom this had happened, when she was to be presented at Court. I was really quite ill at last, and therefore have hardly any impression of the journey, or what we talked about. For all that, I got into a dispute. Fürst said that all the monarchies were trying to gather the wealthy classes about themselves against the lower classes. That seems to me to be too bad. Is the monarchy meant to protect itself? I thought it was to protect the lower classes, and I said so too. Papa began to tease me about the Society and school, and Karen Lote's history lessons; you can hear him, can't you? Fürst asked who was to protect the wealthy classes in that case? They must protect themselves, I should suppose. At all events, it is wicked of them to betray the lower classes, is it not?
"Oh, how enchanting Oresund is! When we crossed (I forgot to say that we came there, that is, to Helsingör, by railway) you see what I am to-day.... No, I will pass that altogether, or I shall never be ready. Father wants me to go out with him this morning, you will soon see why. I will begin with the Palace, which can be seen from the Sound; it is magnificently situated, but is not so large as we had expected. So at last we arrived at Helsingborg. There, now you will be astonished--a royal carriage was waiting for us. Both papa and Fürst took it as a matter of course, but I am certain that they were at least as astonished as I was.
"The carriage was just like any other; it is the livery which is the important point. But I was in the most deadly terror how it would all go off. The weather had, however, become delightful. I was obliged to leave them for a moment before we got into the carriage.
"You can imagine how upset I was by it all, when I tell you that I perspired through my gloves. Of course I had another pair to put on when I got there. Papa drove me to despair by saying, 'My dear child, how wretched you look.' I really believe I had tears in my eyes, for Fürst, who was opposite to me, began to try to amuse me, but I hardly heard what he said. But still through it all I noticed that the formation was a mixture of sandstone and coal strata, and that there was a lot of iron in the rocks. I thought of Rendalen and his maps and collections. You cannot imagine how all this passed through my mind in the midst of my fright. If any one would have taken me home again, at the price of every pretty thing I possess, I would have accepted the offer, I can assure you. We drove through a little wood, and came out into a great open quadrangle--the Palace.
"When I saw the quadrangle and the grass there--how do things come into one's head?--I remembered so distinctly the lesson at school when I learned that bowling-green meant in English just such a place as this; and that Fru Rendalen came into the class at the moment and asked why it was called a bowling-green? and that Tora whispered it to me. How cleverly Tora could do such things! I have no further recollection of where we drew up. I got out of the carriage, when a very grand gentleman met us, and gave me his arm. We were shown to some rooms. A lady came with me, thank goodness. I was not myself till that moment. I looked at myself in the glass. What a fright I was! I saw that at once in papa's face when we met in a sitting-room. Fancy, I never noticed in what direction we went or where the room was. Guess where we were going to. Into the garden, where we were to lunch with their Majesties. There could not have been greater condescension to the townsfolk of a little Norwegian town, could there? Do you remember how we dressed our dolls for a Court ball? The same gentleman--Fürst does not remember his name, but I believe he was a gentleman-in-waiting--escorted me and said something to me in Swedish. I could not understand him, my wits were wool-gathering.
"No one could have been in a greater state of mind. When I saw the garden and came into it--it all whirled round me, trees, people, table, servants, chairs--the awful fright I was in almost made me drop. I used all my strength, I can assure you. The gentleman whose arm I had, must have felt my hand tremble, or have read my trouble in my face; he told me not to be frightened, their Majesties were so charming. I understood that.
"Oh dear, and how wonderfully good they were; especially the King. Oh, that smile, the shape of the hand, those eyes! It was a perfect ocean of goodness--but more than goodness. There is something, especially in the eyes, which fascinates one. I will use the word heaven rather than ocean to describe those eyes, for then you can better understand what the Swedes call tjusande.[3] There is no word in Norse for it. Yes, tjusande! Only southern people have such eyes. How cold and egotistical we are, I must say it, when we look at them. At all events, I feel it so.
"Now you shall hear something wonderful: from the time--I may say from the very second--in which his Majesty's eyes rested on me, I felt well again. Well, did I say? I felt this look fill and warm my whole being. I felt it--it is strange, is it not? but on my honour it is true--I felt it in my knees; yes, in my knees. There is only one word in our language which can fully express my state of mind; I am almost in the same state now, merely with telling you about it, the others would not understand me. I was in a state of beatitude. Perhaps it is profane, or at least wrong, to use this word in such a sense, but it is true.
"What do you think the King said? 'Welcome to my house, Fröken,' in the prettiest, sweetest Norse I ever heard.
"The Queen smiled. She asked me what town I came from. The King answered for me.
"'What is the clergyman called?' asked the Queen.
"'Karl Vangen,' I said; but that was stupid; I ought to have mentioned the Dean's name or that of one of the elder clergy. At the same time the King welcomed my father, who stood there with Fürst, and said to him, 'I think the lieutenant has excellent taste.' That is exactly what he said, word for word; I have often thought of it since, for it evidently showed that Niels Fürst had spoken about me in these high places. I did not know that they would trouble themselves about anything so insignificant.
"We then went to table, the same elegant gentleman took me. 'Well?' said he in Swedish, and I hastened to answer that I was enchanted. 'Every one is,' he assured me. We did not sit down, but walked about as we liked, and first one and then another came up and was presented to me. Only think! one of them was a Count, another a Baron, then a Countess, a Baroness, and a Master of the Horse: he in particular came and walked about, and talked continually.
"It was not exactly what they said, but their whole style and manner had something incredibly intellectual and winning. But there was something as well in the place and surroundings which helped, for I felt as though I were not on earth.
"The servants themselves made me feel uneasy and small, they gave me the impression of being so careful, so attentive, of knowing so well how everything should be.
"I did not always do things right. We Norwegians do not learn anything. No, there was a nobility, a beauty and kindness, and it was all so bright and yet so stately; none of the Princes were there, though. What we had to eat (I hardly touched anything) I can say by heart, for I wrote it down in my diary, and I will copy it for Tora; that and the furniture of the castle, and a thousand other things which you do not care about. You do not understand anything about nice dishes, but I arrange it so as to tell you all the more intellectual things, and you must not show it to any one. My word, if you do! Nora, you don't know, but I must have one confidante, or happiness would be a burden. I have never felt as I have done yesterday and to-day. I am quite upset. I will write to Tora about my dress. Of course I have a new one, which I think would have surprised you all, although there is not much to be done in black. Still I think it suits me. I got a glimpse of myself in several mirrors at the castle, for you must understand that we were shown over it. On the side where we came in first, to the left, is the great apartment where the royal entertainments are held in all their grandeur. Ah! if one could only be present. This room is decorated in white, with an arabesque on a blue ground, and great big pictures, one by Markus Larsson, full of sunlight, but I don't know what it is, it is so extraordinary; and divans and chairs in blue silk--an enormous chandelier of different coloured glass, magnificent! Near the wall two black figures, dressed in red and gold, holding lamps, real works of art. A huge marble fireplace, the shape we call 'Pies,'[4] but the word is so ugly; and a richly gilded clock and porcelain vases; a particularly noticeable flower-stand in Japanese porcelain, very curious. Also a Chinese or Japanese writing-table made of black wood, with gold ornaments. But that was in the cabinet.
"But no; I will scratch out about the cabinet. You shall read all about it in Tora's letter. I will just tell you that you look out from the great balcony over the Sound, and see all the ships and steamers, and Helsingborg and Krongborg. There is not a view like it in the North. How should there be? Do you think we did not go into the bedrooms? I don't know if that were right, but we did. I really have to restrain myself from telling you about them at once, and about their Majesties' sitting-rooms. Imagine white silk hangings over both walls and ceiling, with a light red border, in the Queen's room. And such a writing-table! The King's rooms were so nobly simple. On the pillow in the King's bedroom I saw two hairs--you know what sharp eyes I have. I lagged a little behind, and took them without any one noticing it. I put them into the case of my watch. But this reminds me of the great event. When we went into the garden again, the light fell very strongly right on the gate, and I saw something written on the railing. I went up to it; it was in French, and undoubtedly by a lady.... Yes, you see I have scratched that out again. For when one has made up one's mind not to repeat a thing, it shall not be repeated. It was horrid. I rubbed it out with my finger; but I had to be quick, and I got a splinter into my finger, through my glove, and made it bleed. So I rubbed it out with my blood. I have not said a word to any living being about it until now, nor must you tell it to any one. To papa I said I had pricked my finger while I was trying to gather a rose.
"If any one should have seen me--but they were looking at something in the garden; or if any one had seen what was written before I did? Is it not extraordinary?
"The royal party and their attendants were no longer in the garden, but the gentleman who had met us now joined us. As he did not show any intention of taking us to the others, papa asked him to convey our respectful thanks to their Majesties, and we then left the garden. The carriage came up again, and my elegant cavalier handed me a beautiful bouquet from the royal garden. What do you think of that? It is before me as I write. The flowers are of the Swedish and Norwegian colours. To be sure, Fürst says they are the commonest flowers, but I thought there was more meaning in it than that. I especially admire a lily and a rose. I put a few forget-me-nots into my letter, for I must tell you, my dear Nora, that I am not coming home again. I hope this will be nearly as great an astonishment to you as it was to me, when papa told me this morning. I am to go to Paris to learn French thoroughly.
"'Is that a determination he has only lately come to, or why did he not tell me before?' you will naturally inquire.
"You must know that we start to-morrow. What do you think of that? Papa cannot spare the time to remain away longer.
"'But why did we not go direct?' you ask again. I asked the same thing, although, Heaven knows, I would not have missed yesterday for the world.
"Papa answered that he came to the determination yesterday. Lieutenant Fürst drew his attention to the fact that all well-bred Swedish ladies speak French as well as they do Swedish, and that all Germans and Russians know it; besides which, every well-educated woman ought to speak French like her mother tongue.
"It is not disagreeable to me to travel. To be sure, it will be for at least a year that I shall be separated from you all, but we shall have all the more to tell each other when we meet again.
"There is one thing I must ask you about. Lieutenant Fürst says that---- I had got so far when father came in this morning, and I had to hide my letter. He took me out all in a hurry. We are only just home again this evening, and do you know what for? To pack up and start at once. A fresh determination! Lieutenant Fürst will give father the pleasure of coming with him. I shall put my letter just as it is into the letter-box at the station. I suspect that if I were to read it through again you would not get it.--Your loving
"Milla."
Nora and her mother had left the Baths when the letter got there. It was forwarded to Christiania, where they were staying. When Nora returned she found a telegram, dated from Hamburg, which ran: "Do not read the letter which is coming; send it me,' Hôtel Continental, Paris.'" But the letter had been already read.
Soon after the beginning of the term Miss Hall began a series of lectures for the ladies of the town; it had become the fashion to hear a little of all the objectionable things which their daughters and sisters had learned about in the past year. The lectures were held twice a week in the great laboratory, which as a rule was full. Most of those who had been in the senior class the previous year, and had now left, attended these lectures. One day late in October, when they were assembling in the lecture-hall, Tora came in, accompanied by her friends. There was general astonishment and greeting. Where had she been? Why was she so pale? And, good gracious, how thin! It was true, then, that she had been ill. Was it in the west country that she had been staying? When had she returned to the town? Would she live up here now?
The conversation ceased as Fru Rendalen and Miss Hall came in, and those who were not seated turned to find places. But it was soon seen that there were not sufficient seats; the crowd had never been so great, for Miss Hall was lecturing upon certain phenomena of the nerves which had till now been overlooked or denied, and the lectures became more interesting every time.
To gain space, the large double door leading to the entrance-hall was opened, the outer door being closed. A number of chairs were placed in the hall, and two rows as well in front of the laboratory table. Fru Rendalen's commanding voice was heard giving directions, till quiet was obtained. Tora and her friends found places at the furthest end of one of these rows of chairs.
Miss Hall took up her subject where she had broken off at the last lecture.
"The health and morality of mankind demanded that woman's nerves should be strengthened. It was not enough that she should feel physically comfortable, her will must be ripened by knowledge; she must have an aim in life which will not readily allow her to remain the mere slave of another human being." In a professional manner she ran shortly through what she had said before, for the benefit of those who had not been present.
"People with weak nerves, and especially those of an hysterical temperament, can by certain mechanical operations be brought into a 'hypnotic,' 'somnambulistic,' or 'magnetic' condition. This condition was impotence combined with consciousness; we did, while in this state, what he wished who had brought us into it. We were his prey, and that not only while we slept, but afterwards when we were awakened--we absolutely obeyed the commands we had received while we were in this condition." Miss Hall reminded her hearers of one or two examples she had given.
"In this state certain mediums could visit other places, read the thoughts of others, both near and far. Some few could even see into futurity.
"This fact could no longer be denied, nor could it be explained. At one time it was believed that this result was dependent on belief; now it is known that belief has nothing to do with it. Certain people could bring themselves into this abnormal condition, some by great exertion, others merely by wishing it. They all accomplish this--with whatever object--by fixing their minds upon some single thing, either in their thoughts or in the exterior world.
"Most of us know a little of the effect of doing this, but only those with weak nerves and in certain conditions can bring themselves by it into a state of excitement and abstraction. Many conversions have taken place by this means, especially among women. In this way we come to-day to what is the most dangerous for women. Some people have the power of bringing others, and especially women, into this condition without the ordinary mechanical means, without approaching them, without any movement, merely by a look. They can force people to look at them, and, with their eyes on theirs, command their will."
Miss Hall related a story which she had heard of a very celebrated singer. One day she was in a railway carriage; the train had just stopped, and she was looking out of the window furthest from the platform, when she felt an uncomfortable sensation, felt constrained to turn round; she met the gaze of a pair of eyes which seemed to stab her, and which looked straight into hers. She hurried out at once and changed compartments, but the man followed her; he was probably aware of his power and wished to use it. The lady found her Impresario, and begged him to free her "from those green eyes." It was done, but she felt certain that otherwise she would have been lost. "Now the Prima Donna happened to be conscious of her own weakness, but how many are so? More especially if touch is added to the power of the eyes, they are lost. A man who does not know what it is, takes it naturally for a desire for more, and acts accordingly. But this need not be so. I dare assert that many a woman who has fallen is as guiltless as an unconscious child."
A chair is overturned--something heavy and soft falls to the ground; other chairs are pushed aside, and exclamations are heard from several of the audience as they hastily rise.
Every one now got up, those behind standing on the forms. Through all the bustle they heard the words, "Stand back!" It was Fru Rendalen's voice. Those who were standing on the benches could not contrive to see anything, and questioned those before them in whispers. Only those quite near saw what it was, and they made no answer, nor did they move till Fru Rendalen and one or two others had lifted up an inanimate form which Fru Rendalen carried out in her arms--it was Tora. "Stand back!" was heard again.
Miss Hall followed her, then Nora, Tinka, and Anna Rogne, and then several others. Miss Hall hurried forward as soon as they were in the hall, and opened the door of Fru Rendalen's sitting-room; she went quickly in, and arranged a cushion on the sofa, while Fru Rendalen laid down her burden with Nora's assistance. Miss Hall turned to all those who were standing round and asked them to leave the room; as soon as Fru Rendalen could raise herself she sharply repeated the request. They all went away. Outside in the hall they encountered a stream of people coming from the laboratory--every one was curious; others came from the class-rooms, which were opening one after the other. But Nora, who had grown deadly white, took upon herself to stay. When her unhappy friend began to show signs of life she was seized with a fearful suspicion. She ran forward and fastened the doors leading to the two passages. It was hardly done when she heard Tora call out, "Yes, yes, that happened to me! Oh yes." And a fit of despairing crying followed. It sounded through the passages. Supposing any one outside should hear it? Nora flew into the inner passage, meeting the stream of people; she did not clearly know how she could hinder them from coming near the doors. She never knew how she got through the crowd of grown people and children; how she gathered voice and courage to call out that they must not go on, they must all come back again. She mounted the tribune and rapped loudly with a ruler. They came streaming in from all quarters. She rapped again, and every one was quiet. She said: "Tora Holm has had nervous fever. The air in here was too close, and what was said frightened her, and--and--and--oh yes, Miss Hall is coming directly."
She made this last assertion because she did not know what else to say. She rushed away so as not to burst into tears while she was in the room.
Miss Hall, however, could not come, and at last Fru Rendalen had to go in and mount the tribune.
"I must beg your indulgence. Miss Hall is obliged to remain with the invalid. I must partly take the blame on myself for what has happened. Fröken Holm, being so unwell, ought never to have sat in this crowd. I ought also to have noticed her sooner, but I was entirely engrossed in the lecture. It often happens that we who are occupied in teaching allow ourselves to be too much taken up with it." Her voice trembled--she was as white as her own cap; she left without heeding those who wished to speak to her.
In Fru Rendalen's bedroom Nora stood clinging to Tinka, trembling and crying. Tinka was very dejected. Some one peeped in from the passage. As no one forbade it, she entered softly; she looked at them with wide open questioning eyes--it was Anna Rogne.
"What is it?" she whispered. Nora raised her face; they both looked at her. Anna remembered some remarks which Tora had made in the course of the summer; on these she now formed her opinion--"I suspect the worst." She folded her hands; her tears began to flow. Nora laid her head down again on Tinka's shoulder and cried bitterly. All the time they could hear Tora in the sitting-room; they could not distinguish her words, they were broken, wrung from her by bewilderment, danger, despair. Presently there was silence; the silence was almost worse, there also they were as still as death. At last they could bear it no longer, what did it mean? They exchanged looks, and were on the point of breaking in on them, when they heard heavy, rapid steps across the floor; the door was opened violently, and Fru Rendalen rushed past them with her hands above her head. What is it! in Heaven's name, what is it?
They went in. Tora was lying on the floor, Miss Hall stood over her; on the table was a cup of water. Miss Hall looked up quickly. "Help me to get her up again." They did so; they saw that Tora had not fainted, but she either would not or could not help herself. When she again lay on the sofa, looking like death--ghastly, thin, dishevelled--Miss Hall turned with a meaning look towards the others. They gazed at her terrified; Miss Hall answered their looks with two confirmatory nods.
They all three drew back a few steps. After a little while they slipped out one after the other to Fru Rendalen. She was sitting motionless in a large arm-chair. Nora came and laid her hand on her lap. There was not a word spoken.
Again they heard Tora from within. They heard her explain, cry, bemoan herself. Miss Hall came in to them. "What is it now?" asked Fru Rendalen almost grudgingly, she was quite overdone.
"Did you know," said Miss Hall, "that he came after her again?" They stared at her. "She had taken refuge out on an island with the family of a pilot. He traced her and laid wait for her there as well, the wretch! It was then that she went into the west country, where she was taken ill."
"The poor child!" cried Fru Rendalen. Her sympathy was aroused again; she got up quickly, and went back to Tora; she ought never to have left her.
"My dear, dear child," she said. But the moment Tora saw her she turned and repulsed her with her hands, crying "No, no, no! Don't come; don't say anything--no, no, no! It is not my fault, it is not my fault. Yes, great God, it is my fault!" And she broke into the wildest crying.
All the same, Fru Rendalen came up to her; so soon as she could she said, "Don't take it in this way, my child; we shall never desert you for it." This seemed to calm her, but when Fru Rendalen added that some steps must be taken, she must speak to her son about it, Tora broke out again, "No, no, no! Oh God, no!" She became almost frantic.
"But, dear Tora, you know yourself how things are. It cannot be helped, this will become known everywhere."
"I know, I know; but say nothing to him. No, I must get out of the way first. Do not say anything. There is no need." She raved on, and her voice was so heart-breaking that they all hastened to her. They wanted to quiet her by holding her, but she did not look at them. Each time she freed her hands or her head, and cried and implored, "They must, must, must be silent." In the midst of it all arrived Rendalen. He had chanced to open the bath-room door, and so heard the cries and moans. He thought that they came from the bedroom and crossed the passage to it. There he stood; Tora sprang up with a shriek, and then suddenly flung herself down, with her face in her hands. Fru Rendalen went towards her son, took him by the hand, and went with him to his room. Tora tried to rise, to go away. She would live no longer--no, not for the whole world. She struggled with the others, but for Tinka she would have fled. She was beside herself. She implored and struggled. Tinka held her till her strength began to fail; she called for help. Anna fetched Fru Rendalen, and as soon as she came Tora gave in. She allowed herself to be led by her to the sofa, and, when she was calmer, into the bedroom. There she was undressed and laid in a bed, which had been placed by the side of Fru Rendalen's. Fru Rendalen was obliged to sit by her side and hold her hand--even in her sleep she sobbed like a child and bemoaned herself.
When Fru Rendalen took her son by the hand, when she proposed to speak to him, it was by no means with pleasure that she did so, but, on the contrary, with great anxiety.
The relations between mother and son had, as we know, for some time lost their confidential character; for some time they had not been good, and at the present moment they were actually bad. On his side it almost amounted to a breach. No one could interfere, not even Karl Vangen. Tomas declined to speak on the subject, it pained him if Karl brought it up. This last phase had been produced quite by chance, by an external cause.
According to arrangement, Tora Holm was to have assisted Fru Rendalen; but when she remained ill in the west country, Nora offered to take her place. Nora's gifts lay in a different direction from Tora's--her help was therefore given in a different way; among other things, she was deputed to keep the books. One day when, for want of something to do, Nora chanced to be comparing past and present expenses, turning over the earlier pages of the books, Tomas, elegant as usual, hurried through the room on his way out. "Who is this Tomasine," Nora inquired, "who has had so much money? It is not your mother, for she always puts 'self' in the entries, and nothing more."
"Tomasine? I never heard of any Tomasine." He came up to her, put down his hat, and in his short-sighted way bent over the register, knitting his light eyebrows, staring with his sharp grey eyes. She turned over the pages and showed him the entries, month after month, which extended back for several years. She could not make much of it, but he began to do so; for her the subject had no great interest, for him it appeared all-important. While he studied the books, she observed him and the effect which his near neighbourhood had on her; it was agreeable. She looked at the freckles on his clean-shaven face. In repose the sharp lines of the mouth, the quickness of the eyes, and the power of the brow showed more distinctly; the strong jaw, the bristling red hair, pleased her. She followed the short, slightly recurved, nervous fingers as they turned over the leaves and toyed with the cover of the book. A strong, freckled hand, covered thickly with light bristles, a thick wrist--one felt the strength of the arm, she traced it involuntarily to the shoulder; how strong he must be. She heard the scraping of his necktie on his shirt-front when he drew his breath. She noticed the slight whiff of scent which, now that his head was so near her, mingled with the smell of his skin. Something of half terror, an intoxication, a feeling of increased intelligence came over her--her thoughts moved more quickly, were more highly strung. She wished it might continue--it was absolutely pleasant.
"Where is mother?"
"I don't know."
"This is very curious." He took up his hat and went out. Hardly five minutes later, Fru Rendalen came quickly in from the inner passage. "You excite yourself so, Tomas."
"Excite myself?" As soon as she saw that Nora was there she turned quickly towards him. "Hush," she said, and went towards her bedroom, he following her. Nora heard him talking quickly and without a pause; she could hear Fru Rendalen as well, parrying his words, and at last tearfully justifying herself. At length he went away; long afterwards Fru Rendalen came back, sad and sorrowful. "I have done a dreadfully foolish thing," said Nora shamefacedly.
Fru Rendalen made no reply; she continued to walk slowly up and down. It was more than she could bear alone, and Nora's evident sympathy tempted her.
"God knows, I believed it was one of the best acts of my life, and now I am told it is the worst." Tears bedewed her spectacles, and as usual she turned her attention to them as she sat down. Nora rose and came forward sympathetically. "But, dear Fru Rendalen." She knelt down beside her. The old lady wanted this friendliness, wanted some one to confide in, and so Nora learned that "Tomasine" was Tomas's sister. The girl had begun well, but from the time that she had gone to America she fell into bad ways, and was sent home again, out of her mind. Fru Rendalen had paid for her till her death. She had been entirely silent about it to her son--why need he know of it? But now he fell upon her with the most frightful accusations. The dead girl had had the same right in her father's fortune as he; the law on this subject was vile, no honourable person could abide by it. In the most violent words he had cast his sister's misfortune in Fru Rendalen's face. She was responsible for it.
Nora was dismayed. She had heard one or two things said since she had been up here, but this----!
Rendalen's manner during the time which followed frightened her, if possible, still more; she suffered almost as much as Fru Rendalen. He treated his mother distantly and coldly when he was obliged to be with her; as a rule he avoided her.
From the time he was a boy Tomas had at times felt her to be coarse-grained and wanting in refinement, as though he had no relationship with her. The feeling had always yielded to gratitude, and to the similarity in their views and purposes of life; and, whatever his feelings might be, he nourished a constant admiration for her strength and power of government. His ill-temper had always come suddenly, and passed away directly.
It was quite the contrary at a later time.
His mother did not understand all this, neither did Karl, but they realised that he was unhappy. He seemed to them to be in a growing state of self-torment, and in this they were not mistaken. He would discover, with all the ingenuity of a Kierkegaard, that if he had never existed, his sister would have lived happily. She would have had the property then, and the hereditary tendency would not have grown into insanity; or he would picture his sister brought up there with him, with Augusta, and with the other girls, in the garden, in the school; all those strangers had admittance here, she only had not--his sister, his father's daughter. That his mother could with an easy conscience buy herself free from this imperative duty, and that with a few paltry daler a month; that she had never felt that more was demanded of her!--what a crime had been committed against the unfortunate girl, and she had never once comprehended this!
In the midst of it all came the incident of Tora. His mother insisted on speaking to him. The first time, as we know, she was interrupted; but when Tora was asleep she went in and confided it all to him. He perceived at once its bearing on the school, on her friends, and on himself, and fell into such a fury against Niels Fürst, whom he had not loved before, as can be best described by his own exclamation: "If I had him here I would beat him to a jelly with my own two hands."
Although Tomas had no outward resemblance to his father, he could look so like him that it made Fru Rendalen shudder.
This very fear gave her courage. For a whole year she had seen how his impatience, irritability, and quickness of temper increased. When she herself aroused it she did no more than justify herself, or perhaps go away; he had really cowed her by degrees.
But now another was in question. Tora's despair forced her on; it had, too, an alarming resemblance to what she saw before her. When, after another overpowering outburst, he was about to rush away, she placed herself before him.
"Tomas, you frighten the life out of me with your violence. You give way to it more and more; it will grow beyond you at last, my son."
He shuddered, and grew deadly white.
"Yes, excess is excess in whatever way it shows itself, and I think you ought to be on your guard."
Her voice trembled; their eyes met and measured each other; an unhappiness and bitterness had risen into his, which wounded her.
"What, Tomas, may I not so much as warn you--I, your own mother? No, do not look at me like that. It is not my fault. I have combated it as well as I could--yes, before you were born, Tomas, and I intend to combat it still. For the last year you have not struggled against your temper, and it is especially on me that you vent it."
He stood near the window, looking out. He turned now with a melancholy expression.
"What is it, Tomas? Tell me, in God's name, what it is."
But he turned away again, and laid his head on his arm.
"I do not understand you, Tomas, you are so supercilious to me. You say there is something naturally blind about me, and I know it. Yes, you often humiliate me--often when I am alone, and that I can bear; but often before others as well, and that you should not do. At all events, you ought to be able to bear having your faults pointed out to you by me."
She said the last words almost humbly; they worked strongly upon him. He did not speak, but he turned and began to walk quickly up and down in visible agitation.
"If I could only understand what it is you are vexed with me for. It is not only what you rebuked me for---- Yes, Tomas, you cannot bear to hear that word; but I have had to endure more than words. It is not that alone; there is something more under all this. What is it? Why do you never talk, now, Tomas, either to me or Karl? You are unhappy; do you think we have not noticed it? I would so joyfully do anything for you. Even if I am inferior to you----"
"I cannot endure to hear that word," he cried.
"No, no, but you never will condescend to speak to me, so I am compelled to think--no, I will not say that, but you see yourself what you are; one must not so much as make use of a word before you, and you---- But I will be silent, I see that you are suffering, my son; if only you would remember that I suffer as well. Great heavens! must I ask permission before I remind you that this has been going on for a year? I have not the slightest idea what is the matter--not the slightest, Tomas, beyond what results from my want of ability. If there is anything that I can set right, only tell me--tell me, whatever it is. Can you not trust me?"
"Cannot you trust me?" he burst out, and threw himself down on the sofa, with his face in his hands.
And then it transpired that he thirsted for sympathy.
His was a warm, impulsive nature, which must have trust and affection if he were not to waste his whole life. The independence to which he had accustomed himself, and which had increased during his violent studies, his continual journeys, and by his different plans, had changed into a sense of deprivation--had been succeeded by the most terrible hunger when he was here in the midst of a daily recurring life, full of heartiness and devotion--devotion to one another, while he was always outside it. All his being yearned for what he saw. "Not the cursed littlenesses," as he expressed himself; "no, only to have trust as the groundwork of everything--trust, and nothing but trust."
They must just bear with him and take him as he was, because they believed in him. Otherwise, he should go to destruction.
Fru Rendalen sat there, she had taken his head on her lap; she listened and listened, her heart swelled, and she laid her spectacles aside, for they were no longer any use to her.
"He is right," she thought; "oh, how right he is!" One image rose up in her mind after another; above all, the incident with the teachers. She had believed them at once, and to humour them had taken the school away from him, and from that time forward had in a manner controlled it. Till this moment she had lived in the blessed delusion that he was indifferent to this--nay, that it was a relief to him. And thus things began to dawn upon her which she might otherwise never have discovered. She did not understand this delicate, sensitive nature. If his repressed powers did not recover their strength, the fault would be hers.
"You mean about the teachers, Tomas?" she asked, and she could hardly control her voice. He took her hands and held them while he enumerated his grievances.
There were, oh, such a string of them, both great and small--some so small that she had never been conscious of them. An answer, a word of advice in passing, a remark to some one else, even a silent look in response to something he had said. In her distress, the worthy Fru Rendalen asked his pardon with voice and gesture and tender embraces, declaring that hereafter if he said he wished to go to the moon, she would believe him. She had never worked herself up before to such decided exaggeration, so that Tomas was forced to smile. Her memory was awakened. She remembered clearly how it had all happened, and how she had first lost confidence in him. It had been after his famous lecture; he had taken her much farther with him on to "slippery ice" than she had really the courage to go, and she had only discovered this afterwards. That was the foundation of it all. His power of persuasion, his gift for talking people over, and something indescribable added to this, carried one away; that was undoubtedly what the teachers had felt. Now unfortunately it is the way with mankind, that as soon as we discover that any one has carried us farther than it suits us to go, we not only try to fight against it--that would be right enough--but we look ever afterwards with mistrust at what that person says. Fru Rendalen knew that at times she had done this, and had tried to correct it; but she had had no idea how often she had done so, and still less how often he had noticed it. She knew that she hurt herself when she did so, but till now it had never occurred to her that she had hurt him--he seemed so superior and so distant.
There was a real reconciliation. It was broken off, and taken up again during the next few days, whenever it was possible.
The immediate fate of the unfortunate Tora was decided at the same time, but this was but a small settlement compared to the great one which had been accomplished. A confidence was now opened between them which on his side poured out with overwhelming wealth. The long privation of a year satisfied itself in two days; he was so spontaneous, so tender, and so loyal in the smallest things, that she more than admired him, she adored him. If when she was wrapt in her own thoughts, he came unexpectedly upon her, she coloured; you could see by her face when she heard his step--she guessed everything he wanted, and everything he wished for was remarkable. If she saw that he was in a good humour, she sang--the worst thing she could have done, for no one ever yet discovered what it was she believed herself to be singing.
Nora would have felt unhappy if she had not as well been drawn into this great feast of reconciliation, which lasted from morning till evening, and from morning till evening again.
In the midst of all their joy, Tora's affairs, as has been said, were arranged. Tomas had soon come to a clear understanding of what should be done. The newspapers announced that Fürst had been ordered to Stockholm, and he offered to take Tora there at once. Fürst should be forced to marry her--not, of course, that she should live with such a scoundrel, but in order to give his name to her child and support to herself, so that she might learn to do something, and be able to care for her child. If Rendalen had to go to Fürst's superior officers--nay, to the King himself--he would answer for it that the wretch should do her justice. None of those in the secret, least of all Fru Rendalen, doubted for a moment. They were surrounded by an atmosphere of confidence and hope.
The unfortunate Tora had from the first felt the deepest aversion to Rendalen's plan; the ground on which she consented to yield was consideration for the school and her friends, that as little shame as possible might fall on them. They had forborne to mention this, but it forced itself upon them.
Only in one particular was Rendalen's plan altered--Fru Rendalen would go instead of her son; his presence might have produced the very opposite of what they wished.
Two days after this plan had been conceived--three days after the violent interruption to the lecture--Fru Rendalen and Tora set off.
On the afternoon of the last day Fru Rendalen had become suddenly very despondent. It was known that there had been some worry about money, but that was always happening; and, indeed, it had been set right, but, notwithstanding, the gloom did not disappear. Rendalen went to her and tried to find out what it was. She put him off with excuses once or twice, but when he held her fast she was obliged to blurt out that she could not tell him; it was another person's secret--"not Tora's," she hastened to add. "Use your own eyes, and then you will not need to tempt me." He did use them, both on man and beast, but found it quite impossible to discover the cause of his mother's low spirits. She carried the secret away with her. He went round and asked everybody, but they were all equally obtuse.
It made some stir in the town that Fru Rendalen, at this time of the year, and in the midst of the school work, should go to Stockholm; and that if she needed a companion she should have chosen Tora Holm, who was ill.
Tora Holm's mother announced with some pride that probably her daughter would not return, for if Stockholm seemed to be the best place, she would continue her studies there. Every one had heard that Tora's talents were more than ordinary, so this seemed quite reasonable.
Fru Rendalen had been up to speak to Sheriff Tue and his wife about Nora. According to her ideas, Nora was cut out for teaching and directing. She became less self-assertive, too, the more responsibility she had, and she had ceased to be capricious.
Fru Rendalen asked if Nora might not move over to "The Estate," and during her absence overlook the house and school, and take charge of the money and books. Afterwards she might help with them, and perhaps perfect herself in school subjects. Both parents gave their unqualified consent to this at once, they had precisely the same opinion of their daughter as Fru Rendalen. Her father added, smiling, that she seemed to have no notion of falling in love. "No," her mother observed gladly; "she has no inclination for marriage."
At the house and in the school, all thought it strange that the youngest teacher, a pupil a year ago, should be put over them; but it was certainly true that Nora displayed her best qualities--she was clear-headed, ready, and marvellously helpful.
She got on well with Rendalen, he seemed to find pleasure in conversing with her. "Conversing with" is not the right expression--he talked and she listened, but then he never did otherwise; he always went away when others joined in.
Although he was not quite thirty, he had by degrees acquired a number of curious ways, but each one was the result of something in the development of his character. Had not his fashion of running away from any discussion had its origin in a series of sorrowful experiences?
He was making a noble struggle with the bursts of passion which certain things, certain names, always aroused. The result was that whenever he restrained himself, he choked as though he had swallowed something the wrong way; and if it was very violent, he spat quickly two or three times through his closed lips--not actual spitting, at the most a sort of fine spray.
Tinka mimicked him incomparably. She made a face over little things as though she had taken too much mustard, for greater ones as though she had swallowed soft soap; she would turn her head and give a cough like a cat, or if she pretended to spit, it was with an air of disdainful superiority. Very soon all the pupils followed her example--there was nothing they did better.
At the school, Tomas Rendalen was just what he had been when he first came home--all brightness and life, wonderfully careful in making all his explanations clear, and often quite fascinating in his manner.
It must be confessed that he proved a rod in pickle for the teachers, but there was no longer any misunderstanding him, though they were often on pins and needles when he began to interfere; but it was only necessary to speak to him about it, and he became at once irresistibly charming; this, however, did not prevent a recurrence.
His uneven treatment of the children, his way of treating any subject according to the temper of the moment, remained unfortunately the same, but it was done unconsciously; and this fact, the absolute justice of his mind, and more than all the frankness with which he begged pardon when he had once been convinced that he was to blame, set things for the most part right again.
Miss Hall was obliged to confess that she had looked too hardly on this his incorrigible failing, as well as on several others; for even his admirers had to allow that he was not perfect. For instance, in the face of several classes assembled for a lecture on physics, he would begin to carve a face on the laboratory table, which some chance had begun there, and shortly afterwards would rave like a Turk because a little girl had cut a tiny little name on her desk! "Did she think that was what she came to school for? did she suppose her desk was made to be cut to pieces?"
Fru Rendalen sent word from Stockholm that Fürst was away, but was to return in a few days, they must therefore wait. She would employ the time in establishing Tora in some respectable family, and in collecting some requisites for the school. They had made the journey slowly, and notwithstanding the time of year it had done them both good, as did their stay in Stockholm. The letter was very hopeful, Tora improved every day. Rendalen was enchanted; any one who did not know him would have thought that he looked upon Tora's misfortunes as the greatest good luck. "Now you see," he called out cheerfully whenever he met any of those in the secret. What he meant by it was not very easy to understand.
But his certainty of victory and that of the others received a serious blow when the report spread about that Niels Fürst was engaged! and to whom? To "Your affectionate friend, your ever grateful Milla Engel."
The report came from Anton Dösen, Niels Fürst's greatest friend; he did not give it as more than a rumour, but he believed that it was certain. The families on both sides were diplomatic; they knew nothing about it.
The members of the Society were a sight to see when they met during this time! Above all, Tinka Hansen, when she solemnly opened the register and pointed to Milla's name! She could take her oath that every one looked upon Niels Fürst as thoroughly immoral. No one had been more severe than Milla; her mother's legacy made this only natural. No, this engagement was impossible! One could not think so badly of her. Such a thing would be disloyal, both to the living and to the dead. Milla's different letters to Nora from Paris were now read aloud again.
She and an American lady were living in a French family, who had had great losses, but who had aristocratic relations and acquaintances; she lived in a legitimist atmosphere, but it was not too severe. She had both the opportunity and the inclination to admire everything "fine," independent of religion and politics--everything fashionable, everything where talent and beauty were to be found. And she used her opportunity; "with my enthusiastic temperament, you know," wrote Milla.
She had begun as a loyal member of the Society, the obedient pupil of the school, and therefore gibed at the French spirit. But almost without warning she turned round: paintings, novels, and theatrical representations enchanted her; life, even when viewed from a distance, stimulated her.
It was evident that this was no real change of opinion; one heard the American's voice, though the writing was Milla's; but for this very reason it had not received the attention which it deserved.
Milla wrote that what they believed when they were together at school would not really do: her father had been right. In every letter she related something or another which was to prove this--not in the slightest degree in doubtful taste; on the contrary, with a delicacy which was not without its talent. "One must have no illusions," she wrote; "one will thus be least unhappy." Nora had replied, giving her her opinion of it.
This all now received fresh importance. Was Milla's way of writing something more than the reflection of the life around her? Was it really a well-considered introduction to her engagement to Niels Fürst? Impossible! Nora was above thinking so ill of friends. She had given Tora her solemn promise not to tell anything to Milla; she now considered herself released from it, and wrote out of the fulness of her heart. Tinka wrote as well; she was full of the offence against Tora, and the report that it was to such a person that Tora's greatest friend had engaged herself--she whose name stood in the register!
Five days passed before they again received a letter from Fru Rendalen, and it was short and dry. Fürst had not yet returned. A short time afterwards they received a long and touching letter from Tora, and then several days passed without anything further from either of them. Ten days had gone by since Nora and Tinka had written to Milla--they would have sworn that she would have answered at once. She ought to have done so after such a piece of information and such a charge.
They became very nervous, especially when some one, who had taken no part in the affair, now remarked that, as soon as she had heard that Milla and Fürst were travelling together, she had thought "that would be a suitable match."
Of course, this was Anna Rogne: why had she not said anything? "Because the others would have mistrusted it; and," she added, smiling, "it would have been wrong." At last one afternoon, when Nora came in from the singing lesson, she found a sealed envelope on the table in the sitting-room. "Here it is," was written at the bottom in Rendalen's large handwriting. Nora suspected bad news, as he had not brought it to her at once. She had promised the others not to read it before they came, but one cannot keep those sort of promises.
Fru Rendalen had had her great conversation with Fürst. He had listened to all she told him with a cool politeness, as if he had been prepared for it, and when at last he had to answer, he began by saying that this was difficult, as their views differed so much as to the person in question. In his eyes Tora Holm was, in no small degree, a sensual woman, who could hardly restrain herself in the neighbourhood of a man. To the question if he were aware of the power which he possessed, he answered "Yes." It only, however, affected a certain description of woman, and Tora was precisely one of these. He was under no more obligation to marry her than any other with whom he had had an intrigue. He would provide for the child, and for her as well, with pleasure--that is to say, he would make a reasonable annual allowance.
Fru Rendalen threatened to bring the whole thing before his superiors, or even, if necessary, before the King.
"Pray do; I can reach as far as you can, Frue."
She said to him that this would be a hard fight; to which he answered that he knew how it should be conducted--he was not going to have his career spoilt by a lot of schemers. The lady in question was stamped in good society as a femme entretenue--it was shocking to wish to force her upon him as his wife.
He understood what it all meant: he was to offer himself up for the school, but he was not inclined to be so amiable. He knew what kind of lectures were given both in the girls' "Society" and elsewhere--what sort of conversations and readings they had had; it was natural enough that sensual natures should be aroused by such things. He therefore considered that the school should bear the blame; it would have a good deal of that sort of thing.
Fru Rendalen had a decided impression that something had happened to annoy him, and that, before he came to her, he knew for what he would be called in question. The conversation had so agitated her that she became ill, which was the reason for her not writing sooner. She had not wished to mention her illness until she could say, at the same time, that she was starting the next day. This she could now do. She had not the courage to undertake anything more in this strange place, nor did she think it would be wise. As far as she could understand, publicity and open war were just what he wished for.
He was a dreadful man; they must all be on their guard. She had no doubt that this would bring their school into danger, and remain a great grief to Tora and her innocent friends. Tora was quite overcome. They both looked forward with dread to the parting to-morrow.
The letter closed with a lament that this warfare, which had arisen out of the school work, should never have an end. "Our enemies have gained a dangerous ally; we shall soon see if we have gained any as well."
Late that evening--Miss Hall, Tinka, and Anna Rogne had all read the letter, and were in the sitting-room with Nora--there arrived a telegram. They supposed that it was from Fru Rendalen to Tomas, and Nora had got up to ask one of the servants to take it to him, when Tinka called out that it was not for Rendalen, but for Nora herself. "For me?" asked Nora, and came forward. It was true, it was for her, from Milla. It ran: "Frightful: report untrue."
A fortnight had passed since Nora and Tinka had written. Milla had therefore had the letters for ten days, and then sent--a telegram! What did it mean? While the others soon forgot it in Fru Rendalen's news, compared to which this last event was comparatively indifferent, Anna Rogne remained sitting with the telegram in her hand. She pondered over it.
The others began to ask themselves whether they also would now be mixed up in the Tora scandal. "War" might already be declared. If Niels Fürst had written to any one in the town and given his version, what would happen? A time might come when they would hardly dare, any one of them, to show themselves in the streets.
Anna Rogne interrupted them. "This telegram; ought it not to be taken in to Rendalen?" Yes, of course, and it was done at once. They all expected that Rendalen would come to them directly, but they waited in vain; on the contrary, they heard him a little time afterwards at the piano.
"Well, as Rendalen does not seem to pay any attention to this telegram either, perhaps I may be allowed to suggest what may have happened?" asked Anna, rather ceremoniously. The state of things she thought must be that Fürst and Milla really had been engaged, but that on the receipt of Nora's letter she had at once broken it off, with such an intimation as to make him understand the reason; that was why he had been prepared to meet Fru Rendalen, that was why he wished for publicity and war. He can never win the day without it, and he must win; a marriage with the richest girl in any of the coast towns is the condition for the success of his career. Just because Milla had been engaged to him she had been ashamed to write. She had reflected--tried as well, perhaps--until she had found a way out of the difficulty by telegraphing.
Anna ended by saying, "I suspect that Lieutenant Fürst is at this moment in Paris."
It may as well be said at once that Anna's position in regard to Milla was fateful for the latter. It influenced firstly those whom she was constantly among, later Fru Rendalen. Neils Fürst really was on the way to Paris, but if Milla's friends had sent on Fru Rendalen's letter to her she would hardly have received him; and if they had asked Tora to write to Milla--as she at a later time, when it was necessary, wrote to them--he would never have been able to approach her either personally or by letter. Indeed, even as it was he did not do so. He had first to obtain help from home; but he had taken that into consideration, he had not wasted his time.