Mary by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson (adult books to read TXT) 📕

/> Mrs. Dawes said to her one day: "You over-estimate your own powers when you believe that you can live here alone with us."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that, tired as you may be of society in spring, when winter comes it will exercise its attraction again. You are too much accustomed to it."

Mary made no answer at the time, but some days later--the weather had long been bad, and she had not been out--she said to Mrs. Dawes: "You may be right in believing that the life we have lived all these years has taken strong hold of me."

"Stronger than you have any idea of, child."

"But what would you have me do? I cannot leave here. Nor do I wish to."

"No. But you could have a change sometimes."

"How?"

"You know quite well what I mean, child. If you married Joergen, he would live sometimes here with you, and you sometimes at Stockholm with him."

"A curious married life!"

"I don't believe you can combine the two things in any better way."

"Which two things?"

"What life demands of you and what you are accustomed to."

Mary felt that what Mrs. Dawes had just said expressed her father's wish. She knew that what gave him most anxiety was her future, and that a marriage with Joergen which ensured Uncle Klaus's protection would give him a feeling of security. It oppressed her to think how little regard to her father's wishes she had hitherto shown.

These days, with their deliberations, struck her as resembling the recitative in an opera, the part which connects two important actions. Now that the season was advancing, she felt like a captive when she looked out across the bay. When she stood on the hill, watching autumn's stern entrance in foaming breakers, she knew that it was bringing imprisonment for the winter. Her spirit stirred in rebellion; she was accustomed to something so different.

Something in her blood stirred too. Her tranquillity was gone. As a memory, Joergen was not repellent. The atmosphere which he brought with him was actually sympathetic.

That her father had been incapacitated by an apoplectic shock, that Joergen had been on the spot when this occurred, that he was her father's choice--was there not something in this that linked them together? Was there not fate in it?

To make her appearance at Joergen's side in Stockholm,[C] and afterwards to be sent farther afield--could there be a more fitting conclusion to her life of travel, a better opportunity of turning to advantage all that she had learned during the course of it?

[C] The Foreign Office of Sweden was at that time the Foreign
Office of Norway also.

Uncle Klaus should help them--help them generously. She knew her power over Uncle Klaus.

"After all, Aunt Eva dear," she said one day when she sat chatting beside Mrs. Dawes's bed; "I think you may write to Joergen."

* * * * *


Mary herself was standing on the pier when the steamer came in. It was Saturday afternoon; all that could do so were leaving town to enjoy the last days of autumn in the country. The weather was beautiful; in the south of Norway it can be so till far on in September. Mary was dressed in blue and carried a blue parasol, which she waved to Joergen and some of her girl friends who were standing beside him. All on board moved towards the gangway to watch the meeting.

Joergen felt, as soon as he reached her side, that he must be cautious. He divined that she had come to meet him here in order that their meeting might not be private.

On the way up to the house they talked of the swallows, which were now assembling for their departure--of the farm-overseer, who had just shot a huge eagle--of the writing-board which Mrs. Dawes had had constructed--of the good aftermath, of the price of fruit and turnips. In the hall she left him with a short "Excuse me!" and hurried upstairs. The boy who was carrying Joergen's portmanteau had followed them in; Joergen and he stood still, not knowing where to go. Then Mary called from above: "This way, please!" Opening the door of the visitors' room next her own, she told the boy to take the portmanteau in there. To Joergen she said: "Shall we go and see Father?" She led the way. The nurse was not in the room. Probably it was to send her away that Mary had run up first.

A light kindled in the sick man's eyes as he saw Joergen enter. As soon as the door was closed, Mary went up to her father, bent over him, and said: "Joergen and I are engaged now, Father."

All the affection and happiness that a human face can express beamed from Anders Krog's. Smiling, Mary turned towards Joergen, who, pale and agitated, was prepared to rush forward and embrace her. But he felt that though his astonishment, his gratitude, and his adoration were quite acceptable to her, she desired no such manifestation of them. This did not detract from his happiness. He met her smiling eyes with an expression of intense, perfect delight. He pressed the hand which Anders Krog could move; he looked into his tearful eyes, his own filling. But no word was spoken until Mary said: "Now we must go to Aunt Eva."

With a feeling of triumph she led the way. He followed, admiring. His heart was full of many feelings, not least among them admiration of the magnanimity with which she had forgiven. He thought: Out in the passage she will turn round, and then ... But she went straight to Mrs. Dawes's door and knocked.

When Mrs. Dawes saw Joergen, she clapped her fat hands, tugged at her cap, and tried to sit up, but could not for excitement. She fell back again, wept, blessed them, and stretched out her arms. Joergen allowed himself to be embraced, but would not kiss her.

As soon as sensible conversation became possible, Mary said: "Don't you think too, Aunt Eva, that we ought to go and call on Uncle Klaus to-morrow?"

"Most certainly I do, my child! most certainly! Why should there be any delay?"

Joergen was radiant. Mary retired, that the two might have a confidential talk.

When Joergen and she met again, he understood that the watchword was: "Look, but do not touch!" This was hard; but he acknowledged it to be only just that one who had presumed as he had should be compelled to control himself. Mary intended to be her own mistress.

In her triumphant mood she was more beautiful than ever. It seemed to Joergen an act of grace when she addressed him as "thou." And she condescended no further. He went on hoping, but she gave no more--not the whole of that day. He betook himself to the piano and there poured forth his lament. Mary opened the doors, so that Mrs. Dawes might hear the music. "Poor boy!" said Mrs. Dawes.

Next day Mary did not come downstairs until it was time to set off on their expedition to Uncle Klaus's.

"You are _la grande dame_ to-day, and no mistake!" said Joergen, inspecting her admiringly. She was in her most elegant Parisian walking costume. "Is it to make an impression on Uncle Klaus?"

"Partly. But it is Sunday, you know.--Tell me," and she suddenly became serious; "does Uncle Klaus know about father's misfortune?"

"He knows about his illness, if you mean that."

"No; I mean the cause of it?"

"That I can't say. I came straight from home. I have told nothing--even at home."

Of this Mary approved. Consequently they were on the pleasantest, most confidential terms, both during the walk down to the steamer and on board. There they sat talking in whispers of their wedding, of furlough for the first month after it, of life in Stockholm, of her visits to him there, of his visit to Krogskogen at Christmas, of a trip to Christiania now--in short, there was not a cloud in their sky.

They found Uncle Klaus in his smoke-filled den, where they rather imagined than saw him. He himself was quite startled when Mary in all her glory appeared before him. He led them hurriedly into the large, stiff drawing-room. Even before they were seated, Joergen said: "We have come, Uncle, to tell you--"

He got no farther, for Uncle Klaus saw in their radiant faces the news which they brought.

"My heartiest congratulations!" The tall man bowed, offering a hand to each. "Yes--every one says that you are the handsomest couple ever seen in this town. For," he added, "we engaged you to each other long ago."

Hardly were they seated before his face became gloomy. He looked compassionately at Mary. "But your father, my poor child!"

"Father is much better now," she answered evasively. Uncle Klaus looked searchingly at her. "But he can never...." He stopped; he was not capable of putting his thought into words; neither was Mary. They sat silent.

When they began to speak again, it was of the unusually bad times. It seemed as if there were to be no end to them. Investments were yielding no interest, the shipping trade was in a bad way, there were no new undertakings, money was not forthcoming. Whilst they were talking, Uncle Klaus looked several times at Joergen as if he would put more questions but for his presence. Mary understood, and made a sign to Joergen, who rose and asked permission to go, as he had an appointment with some friends in town. It was, thus, tacitly agreed upon between Mary and him that she should have a private interview with Uncle Klaus. But what was it Uncle Klaus wished to speak to her about? She was most curious.

As soon as the door closed behind Joergen, the old man, with an anxious look, began: "Is it true, my poor child, that your father has had great losses in America?"

"He has lost everything," Mary replied.

Klaus jumped up, pale with the shock.

"Lost everything?"

He stared at her, open-mouthed and turning purple. Then exclaiming: "Good Lord! This is a simple enough explanation of the shock!" began to march up and down the room as if no one else were present. The wide trousers twisted themselves round his legs; he waved his long arms.

"He has always been a confiding simpleton! an absolute fool! Fancy having a fortune like that invested in another man's business and never looking after it! What a damned--" Here he stopped suddenly and asked in astonishment: "What do you mean to marry upon--?"

Mary had felt herself mortally insulted long before this question came. To behave thus in her presence--to speak thus of her father in her hearing! Nevertheless she answered archly and with her sweetest smile: "On our expectations from you, Uncle Klaus!"

Klaus's astonishment was beyond all measure. She tried to moderate it before it found vent; she joked--said in English that she felt dreadfully sorry for him, as she knew what a poor man he was! But he paid no more attention to her than a bear to the twitter of birds.

Out it came at last. "It is like that scoundrel Joergen to speculate upon me!" Marching up and down again, faster than before,