Part 8 (2/2)
Soon he could not help seeing that the girl was going about with half-shut eyes, dreaming dreams of which she would never speak to him. And as the days went on her hands grew whiter, and she moved more lightly, as if to the rhythm of unheard music. Always as she went about the room on her household tasks she was crooning some song; it seemed that there was some joy in her soul that must find an outlet.
One Sat.u.r.day in the late spring she had just come home, and was getting the supper, when Peer came tramping in, dressed in his best and carrying a parcel.
”Hi, girl! Here you are! We're going to have a rare old feast to-night.”
”Why--what is it all about?”
”I've pa.s.sed my entrance exam for the Technical--hurrah! Next autumn--next autumn--I'll be a student!”
”Oh, splendid! I AM so glad!” And she dried her hand and grasped his.
”Here you are--sausages, anchovies--and here's a bottle of brandy--the first I ever bought in my life. Klaus is coming up later on to have a gla.s.s of toddy. And here's cheese. We'll make things hum to-night.”
Klaus came, and the two youths drank toddy and smoked and made speeches, and Louise played patriotic songs on her violin, and Klaus gazed at her and asked for ”more--more.”
When he left, Peer went with him, and as the two walked down the street, Klaus took his friend's arm, and pointed to the pale moon riding high above the fjord, and vowed never to give him up, till he stood at the very top of the tree--never, never! Besides, he was a Socialist now, he said, and meant to raise a revolt against all cla.s.s distinctions. And Louise--Louise was the most glorious girl in all the world--and now--and now--Peer might just as well know it sooner as later--they were as good as engaged to be married, he and Louise.
Peer pushed him away, and stood staring at him. ”Go home now, and go to bed,” he said.
”Ha! You think I'm not man enough to defy my people--to defy the whole world!”
”Good-night,” said Peer.
Next morning, as Louise lay in bed--she had asked to have her breakfast there for once in a way--she suddenly began to laugh. ”What ARE you about now?” she asked teasingly.
”Shaving,” said Peer, beginning operations.
”Shaving! Are you so desperate to be grand to-day that you must sc.r.a.pe all your skin off? You know there's nothing else to shave.”
”You hold your tongue. Little do you know what I've got in front of me to-day.”
”What can it be? You're not going courting an old widow with twelve children, are you?”
”If you want to know, I'm going to that schoolmaster fellow, and going to wring my savings-bank book out of him.”
Louise sat up at this. ”My great goodness!” she said.
Yes; he had been working himself up to this for a year or more, and now he was going to do it. To-day he would show what he was made of--whether he was a snivelling child, or a man that could stand up to any dressing-gown in the world. He was shaving for the first time--quite true. And the reason was that it was no ordinary day, but a great occasion.
His toilet over, he put on his best hat with a flourish, and set out.
Louise stayed at home all the morning, waiting for his return. And at last she heard him on the stairs.
”Puh!” he said, and stood still in the middle of the room.
”Well? Did you get it?”
He laughed, wiped his forehead, and drew a green-covered book from his coat-pocket. ”Here we are, my girl--there's fifty crowns a month for three years. It's going to be a bit of a pinch, with fees and books, and living and clothes into the bargain. But we'll do it. Father was one of the right sort, I don't care what they say.”
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