Garman And Worse A Norwegian Novel by Alexander Lange Kielland (best ereader for pdf and epub txt) 📕

And Majestically,  The Magic Words Which Were To Awake Him From This

Horrible Nightmare: "Tell My Mother It Has All Come Right." But Matters

Grew Still Worse When,  A Short Time Afterwards,  He Presented Himself

Before Mrs. Worse In The Back Room; For Scarcely Had He Pronounced The

Fatal Words,  "It Has All Come Right!" Than Mrs. Worse Flew At Him And

Kissed Him Right On His Lips.

This Kiss,  In connection With The Smudge Of Ink,  Made This Day A

Memorable One For Old Svendsen,  And He Used To Reckon From It As An

Epoch Which He Could Never Forget.

The Same Post Brought,  Among Other Things,  A Note For Morten Garman. He

Opened It,  Smiled In a Singular Manner,  And Sent It Upstairs To His

Wife. Fanny Took The Two Enclosed Cards,  On One Of Which Was Written The

Name Of A Lady,  Which She Recognized As Belonging To A Wealthy Family In

Christiania,  And On The Other Was The Name Of George Delphin.

She Stood Before The Looking-Glass With His Card In Her Hand,  Observing

Narrowly The Expression On Her Face,  While The Genuine Sorrow She Had

Hitherto Felt,  Now Turned To Mortification And Bitterness. There Was

Scarce A Shadow To Be Seen On Her Brow While These Sensations Passed

Through Her Heart. She Had Accustomed Herself To These Exercises Before

The Glass; This Was A Grand Rehearsal,  And She Bore It Bravely. Only The

Delicate Wrinkles Round Her Eyes Quivered Slightly; But When She Smiled

Again They Made Her As Charming As Ever. No Emotion Should Spoil Her

Beauty; And While These Six Years Of Pain And Sorrow Seemed Again To

Burst Forth,  She Stood As Lovely And Undisturbed As Ever,  Without Losing

Anything Of Her Self-Command.

At This Moment The Doctor Entered The Room.

"Have You Spoken To My Husband,  Doctor?"

"No,  Mrs. Garman. Is There Anything The Matter With Him?"

"Has He Anything The Matter With Him! I Am Really Surprised That You

Should Ask Such A Question," Replied Fanny,  Sharply. "Can You Not See

That He Is Weary--Overworked? He Must Go To Carlsbad This Year,  Or His

Health Will Suffer Severely."

"Oh Yes!" Said The Doctor,  Good-Humouredly,  "It Might Perhaps Have A

Good Effect; But You Know Yourself That His Answer Always Is That He Has

No Time,  And So--"

"Bah!" Answered Fanny; "As If A Doctor Ought To Listen To Rubbish Of

That Sort!"

The Doctor Went Off Straight To The Office,  And Succeeded In Frightening

Morten To Such A Degree That The Journey Was Arranged For The Next Week.

Jacob Worse'S "Disappearance," As It Was Called,  Caused A Great

Sensation,  And The Astonishment Did Not Diminish When A Telegram

Arrived,  Announcing His Engagement To Rachel Garman. At The Same Time He

Begged Morten To Arrange Everything For The Wedding,  As They Intended To

Be Married Shortly After Their Return Home.

Morten,  After Consulting His Wife,  Answered That The Doctor Had Ordered

Him Off To Carlsbad At Once; But He Proposed To Meet Them Both In

Copenhagen,  Where The Wedding Might Take Place. He Received An Answer

Assenting To His Proposal,  And The Day Was Fixed. Although He Had Not

Been Consulted,  Morten Was Much Pleased With The Match.

During The Last Six Years,  He Had Often Thought Upon The Advice His

Father Had Given Him Before His Death,  When He Had Advised Him To Take

Jacob Worse Into Partnership. Morten Had Never Mentioned The Idea To Any

One. He Could Not Reconcile Himself To Such A Humiliation. Now The

Opportunity Came Of Itself,  And At A Most Fortunate Time,  When He Was On

The Point Of Starting For Abroad. Worse Would,  Therefore,  Be Able To Get

An Insight Into Everything During His Absence,  And There Were Some Weak

Places In The Business Which Were Causing Morten Much Uneasiness.

Matters Of This Nature Are More Easily Got Over When They Can Be

Explained By Letter.

The Wedding Thus Took Place In copenhagen. Gabriel Was Present At The

Ceremony. He Had Been For Some Time In an Office In england,  Whither

They Had Telegraphed To Him From Paris,  And He Joined Them At Cologne.

It Was Already More Than Half Settled,  That Gabriel Should Take Rachel'S

Place With Barnett Brothers In Paris,  A Prospect At Which He Was Quite

Overjoyed.

The Wedding-Breakfast Was Served At The Hotel D'Angleterre,  In One Of

The Large _Salons_ Looking Out On The Kongen'S Nytorv. Every One Was In

The Highest Spirits,  And Morten Made A Speech In Which He Remarked,  That

Garman And Worse Would Now Again Become A Reality.

"And My Old Enemy Aalbom?" Asked Gabriel At Dessert.

"Oh,  He Is The Same As Ever," Answered Morten. "The Other Day He Made A

Virulent Speech Somewhere About The Garman Dynasty. He Is Terribly

Bitter Since We Have Ceased Inviting Him To Sandsgaard."

"Poor Aalbom!" Said Gabriel,  Thoughtfully. He Was So Happy Himself,  And

In Such A Forgiving Mood,  That He Sat Down At A Table By The Window,  And

Began Sketching,  With The Greatest Care And Attention,  The Equestrian

Statue On The Kongen'S Nytorv. The Sketch Was Intended As A Present For

Mr. Aalbom.

A Few Days After Each Went To His Own Place; Morten And Fanny To

Carlsbad,  Gabriel To England To Arrange His Change Of Quarters,  And The

Newly Married Couple Home To Norway.

On The Quay Where The Steamers Landed Their Passengers Was To Be Seen A

Shining New Carriage,  With A New Coachman And A New Pair Of Horses. In

The Carriage Sat Mrs. Worse,  Wearing A New Silk Mantle And A New Bonnet.

She Had Telegraphed For The Whole Set-Out To Worse'S Agent In

Copenhagen,  With Whom The Money Had For Some Time Been Lying Ready.

On The Box Of The Carriage,  Huddled Up In a Heap,  Sat Mr. Samuelsen.

Mrs. Worse'S Efforts To Make Him Take His Place By Her Side Had Been

Unavailing; He Thought It Was Quite Bad Enough As It Was.

A Group Of Small Boys Were Naturally Standing Round The Carriage,  Partly

To See The Horses,  And Partly To Have A Good Look At The Dreaded Pitter

Nilken. Suddenly One Of The Young Rascals Took It Into His Head To

Repeat The Well-Known Irritating Verse--Not Exactly Singing Out Loud,

But Only Barely Moving His Lips. The Idea Was Soon Caught Up By His

Comrades,  And Wherever The Unhappy Mr. Samuelsen Turned His Head He

Could Read The Couplet On The Busy Lips,  And Follow The Song--

     "Little Pitter Nilken,

     Sitting On His Chair"--

It Was Enough To Drive One Mad.

     "He'S Always Growing Smaller

     The Longer He Sits There."

The Newly Married Couple Got In,  And The Carriage Rolled Off Through The

Town. Mrs. Worse Laughed Boisterously With Tears In Her Eyes The Whole

Way; She Kept Bowing In all Directions,  And Her Face Was Radiant With

Smiles. As They Turned Into The Yard,  The New Bonnet Had Slipped So Far

Over To One Side That It Fell Off When The Carriage Stopped At The Door;

And As The Worthy Mr. Samuelsen Jumped Down,  In His Great Anxiety To

Help The Ladies To Alight,  He Came With Both Feet Right On Top Of The

Bonnet,  Notwithstanding That He Had Seen The Danger When He Was Making

His Spring.

It Was Quite A Business To Get Mrs. Worse "Balanced" Upstairs,  She

Laughed So Immoderately. They All Laughed; The Coachman Laughed; The

Maids Laughed; The Newly Married Couple Laughed; Every One Laughed

Except The Unfortunate Mr. Samuelsen,  Who Followed The Others Upstairs,

Carrying,  With Averted Eyes,  His Mistress'S Bonnet By One String,  And

Dragging The Other After Him Up The Staircase. The Lovely New Bonnet,

Which Was Scarcely Recognizable As A Bonnet Any Longer!

They Had Dinner In The Young People'S Apartments,  Where Mrs. Worse Did

The Fine Lady To Her Own Intense Satisfaction,  And Persisted In Talking

Something Which She Called French. In The Evening,  When Rachel And Her

Husband Returned From A Visit From Sandsgaard,  The Whole Party Moved

Over To Mrs. Worse'S Room At The Back Of The House.

And There,  There Was Laughing,  Story-Telling,  Drinking Of Healths,  And

Rejoicing,  Until Pitter Nilken Was Quite Overcome,  And Offered Of His

Own Accord To Sing "The Knife-Grinder'S Courtship"--A Song Which Had

Been A Great Favourite In The Days Of His Youth. He Sang Amidst Rounds

Of Applause,  In a Curious Thin Voice,  Which Sounded As If He Had All At

Once Recovered His Boy'S Treble,  And Which Was High,  Squeaky,  And

Cracked. He,  However,  Rendered The Air With A Great Deal Of Feeling,  And

His Eye Rested On Mrs. Worse As He Sang--

     "Maiden,  Oh List! With Those Sweet Winning Glances,

     Thy Looks Nought But Goodness And Kindness Betide!

     Oh,  Couldst Thou But Smile On My Timid Advances!

     Say,  Wilt Thou Be Thine Own Knife-Grinder'S Bride?"

Mrs. Worse Beat Time With Her Knitting As She Joined In The Chorus--

     "Whirr! Whirr!

     Blithely We Go. Never Say No!

     My Foot'S On The Treadle,

     Which Rocks To And Fro!"

In The Bright Sunshine The Yellow Sand,  Dotted Here And There With

Patches Of Bent Grass,  Stretched Away To The Northward As Far As The Eye

Could Reach. The Coast-Line,  With Its Succession Of Bays And

Promontories,  Was Here And There Enlivened By A Cluster Of Boats,  Or A

Flock Of Gulls,  Or Wild Geese,  Busily At Work On The Shore,  While The

Sea Came Curling In With Its Small Crested Ripples,  Which Sparkled In

The Clear Sunshine. Over The Heather-Covered Heights,  Which Rolled Away

Far Inland,  Came A Carriage,  In Which Were Sitting A Lady And A

Gentleman. They Had Left The Post-Road,  And Were Making Their Way Along

The Narrow Sandy Track Which Led