Part 7 (1/2)

”I suppose it's a family failing,” answered the fair one, with a rapid glance.

”N-n-no,” said Ola, exceedingly put out, ”my brother sings capitally.”

”Do you think so?” she said, drily.

This was the most astounding thing that had ever happened to Ola: that there could be more than one opinion about his brother's singing, and that she, his ”future wife,” did not seem to admire it! And yet it was not quite unpleasant to him to hear it.

Again there was a silence, which Ola sought in vain to break.

”Don't you care for dancing?” she asked.

”Not with every one,” he blurted out.

She laughed: ”No, no; but gentlemen have the right to choose.”

Now Ola began to lose his footing. He felt like a man who is walking, lost in thought, through the streets on a winter evening, and who suddenly discovers that he has got upon a patch of slippery ice. There was nothing for it but to keep up and go ahead; so, with the courage of despair, he said ”If I knew--or dared to hope--that one of the ladies--no--that the lady I wanted to dance with--that she would care to--hm--that she would dance with me, then--then--” he could get no further, and after saying ”then” two or three times over, he came to a stand-still.

”You could ask her,” said the fair one.

Her bracelet had come unfastened, and its clasp was so stiff that she had to bend right forward and pinch it so hard that she became quite red in the face, in order to fasten it again.

”Would you, for example, dance with me?” Ola's brain was swimming.

”Why not?” she answered. She stood pressing the point of her shoe into a crack in the floor.

”We're to have a party at the Parsonage on Friday--would you give me a dance then?”

”With pleasure; which would you like?” she answered, trying her best to a.s.sume a ”society” manner.

”A quadrille?” said Ola; thinking: ”Quadrilles are so long.”

”The second quadrille is disengaged,” answered the lady.

”And a galop?”

”Yes, thank you; the first galop,” she replied, with a little hesitation.

”And a polka?”

”No, no! no more,” cried the fair one, looking at Ola with alarm.

At the same moment, Hans came rus.h.i.+ng along at full speed. ”Oh, how lucky I am to find you!--but in what company!”

Thereupon he took possession of the fair one in his amiable fas.h.i.+on, and drew her away with him to find her wraps and join the others.

”A quadrille and a galop; but no more--so so! so so!” repeated Cousin Ola. He stood as though rooted to the spot. At last he became aware that he was alone. He hastily seized a hat, slunk out by the back way, sneaked through the garden, and clambered with great difficulty over the garden fence, not far from the gate which stood ajar.

He struck into the first foot-path through the fields, fixing his eyes upon the Parsonage chimneys. He was vaguely conscious that he was getting wet up to the knees in the long gra.s.s; but on the other hand, he was not in the least aware that the Sheriff's old uniform cap, which he had had the luck to s.n.a.t.c.h up in his haste, was waggling about upon his head, until at last it came to rest when the long peak slipped down over his ear.