Part 7 (2/2)

It was Hermansen who had hindered his election to the Town Council, and possibly afterwards to parliament; all along he had barred his way--until now. And to-day, at last, the wind had changed, he had gained his first victory; now perhaps the banker's fortunes would begin to wane, in the town and farther afield--for he was a man of some influence in the country generally.

Holm stood at first bent slightly over the desk, but as he talked, and his enthusiasm increased, he drew himself up, a figure of such power and energy that Betty felt the banker would need to be well equipped indeed to outdo him. She grew more and more interested as he went on, following him with her eyes, until he came over to her and said: ”I don't mind telling you, Miss Betty, it's not only Banker Hermansen, but the whole pack of them in the town here, that shrugged their shoulders and laughed behind my back at everything I did.

”Yes, and I've felt it, too, you may be sure, though I didn't show it. I've been cheerful and easy-going all along, and, thanks to that, I can say I've done two things at least: I've pleased my friends and vexed my enemies!

”And then the children upstairs, they've never really understood me; just looked on me as a sort of automatic machine for laying golden eggs. Lord, but I'd like to put their nose out of joint one day, the whole lot of them--make them take off their hats and look up to see where Knut G. Holm had got to.”

He tried to take her hand, but she drew it back sharply, and with a blush retreated behind the shelter of her books.

”You think I'm a queer sort, don't you?”

”Not that, Mr. Holm. I was thinking you're a strong man. I've always longed to meet men that were not afraid to face the real hard things of life.”

”You're right in that; one doesn't often find a man who's ready to risk anything really for his own convictions. It's easy enough to get into one's sh.e.l.l and rub along comfortably in flannel and carpet slippers, to shout with the crowd and agree politely to all that's said, be generally amiable and popular accordingly--but it's too cramped and stifling for me. I must have room to breathe, if I have to get out in the cold to do it.”

He strode through into the shop, and she heard him talking to Garner about having the whole of the premises altered now, lighter and brighter, with big plate-gla.s.s windows, and the floor sunk to make it loftier.

Betty sat for a long while thinking deeply over what Holm had said.

Several times she turned to her books, but only to fall back into the same train of thought; somehow it was impossible to work to-day.

A strange man, he was, indeed, and she did not quite like his being so confidential towards her. But an honest heart, of that she felt sure, and a man one could not help liking and helping as far as one could. Holm came into the office a little while after, and found it empty. Betty had gone. He stood awhile by her desk, then picked up the gla.s.s with the yellow roses in, and smelt them.

”Women, women”--he looked at the roses--”these little trifles are the weapons that count. H'm. Now would it be so strange after all if I did marry again? There's not much comfort to be looked for upstairs as things are now--and she's a clever girl as well as pretty. The youngsters, of course, would make no end of fuss, but I'd have to put up with that.”

Just then William came in, smoking a cigarette.

”Wanted to speak to you, father.”

”Right you are, my boy! speak away!”

”Well, it's like this. Marie and I, we can't go on as we have been doing lately.”

Holm turned quickly. ”You mean to say you're going to turn over a new leaf?”

”I mean, we must get away from here. Marie's budding talent will never thrive here, and I--I shall grow stale if I don't get away soon. We want to travel.”

”I see--well, travel along with you then; don't mind me.”

”We want to go to Paris. Mrs. Rantzau, who is herself a distinguished artist, says it's the only thing for us, to go to Paris and complete our education. There is no hope of developing one's talents in a place like this--they simply wither and die.”

”Ah, that would be a pity.”

”Father, you must let us go. Don't you think yourself, you ought to make some little sacrifice for your only son?”

”You think I haven't done enough? Wasn't it for your sake I married your foster-mother? Haven't I thrown away hundreds of pounds on your miserable education as you call it, and your fantastic inventions in the engineering line that never came to anything? I could ill spare the money at the time, I can a.s.sure you.”

”Oh, now I suppose we're to have the old story over again, with the 150.”

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