Part 15 (2/2)
”Do you know that mother dreamed of you before you came?”
”Of me?” Peer's eyes opened wide. ”What did she dream about me?”
A sudden flush came to the girl's face, and she shook her head. ”It's foolish of me to sit here and tell you all this. But you see that was why we wanted so much to find out about you when you came. And it gives me a sort of feeling of our having known each other a long time.”
”You appear to have a very constant flow of high spirits, Froken Uthoug!”
”I? Why do you think--? Oh, well, yes. One can come by most things, you know, if one has to have them.”
”Even high spirits?”
She turned her head and looked towards the sh.o.r.e. ”Some day perhaps--if we should come to be friends--I'll tell you more about it.”
Peer bent to his oars and rowed on. The stillness of the night drew them nearer and nearer together, and made them silent; only now and then they would look at each other and smile.
”What mysterious creature is this I have come upon?” thought Peer. She might be about one-or two-and-twenty. She sat there with bowed head, and in this soft glow the oval face had a strange light of dreams upon it.
But suddenly her glance came back and rested on him again, and then she smiled, and he saw that her mouth was large and her lips full and red.
”I wish I had been all over the world, like you,” she said.
”Have you never been abroad, Froken Uthoug?” he asked.
”I spent a winter in Berlin, once, and a few months in South Germany. I played the violin a little, you see; and I hoped to take it up seriously abroad and make something of it--but--”
”Well, why shouldn't you?”
She was silent for a little, then at last she said: ”I suppose you are sure to know about it some day, so I may just as well tell you now.
Mother has been out of her mind.”
”My dear Froken--”
”And when she's at home my--high spirits are needed to help her to be more or less herself.”
He felt an impulse to rise and go to the girl, and take her head between his hands. But she looked up, with a melancholy smile; their eyes met in a long look, and she forgot to withdraw her glance.
”I must go ash.o.r.e now,” she said at last.
”Oh, so soon! Why, we have hardly begun our talk!”
”I must go ash.o.r.e now,” she repeated; and her voice, though still gentle, was not to be gainsaid.
At last Peer was alone, rowing back to his saeter. As he rowed he watched the girl going slowly up towards the cottage. When she reached the door she turned for the first time and waved to him. Then she stood for a moment looking after him, and then opened the door and disappeared. He gazed at the door some time longer, as if expecting to see it open again, but no sign of life was to be seen.
The sun's rim was showing now above the distant ranges in the east, and the white peaks in the north and west kindled in the morning glow. Peer laid in his oars again, and rested, with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. What could this thing be that had befallen him today?
How could those peaks stand round so aloof and indifferent, and leave him here disconsolate and alone?
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