A Woman-Hater [203]
"Few strangers come here--are you not English?"
"Yes, madam."
"It is Mr. Vizard--is it not?"
"Yes, madam."
"Ah, sir, my daughter will welcome you, but not more heartily than I do. My child has told me all she owes to you"--then in Danish, "God bless the hour you come under this roof."
Vizard's heart beat tumultuously, wondering how Ina Klosking would receive him. The servant had told her a tall stranger was come. She knew in a moment who it was; so she had the advantage of being prepared.
She came to him, her cheeks dyed with blushes, and gave him both hands. "You here!" said she; "oh, happy day! Mother, he must have the south chamber. I will go and prepare it for him. Tecla!--Tecla!"--and she was all hostess. She committed him to her mother, while she and the servant went upstairs.
He felt discomfited a little. He wanted to know, all in a moment, whether she would love him.
However, Danish hospitality has its good side. He soon found out he might live the rest of his days there if he chose.
He soon got her alone, and said, "You knew I should find you, cruel one."
"How could I dream of such a thing?" said she, blushing.
"Oh, Love is a detective. You said to yourself, 'If he loves me as I ought to be loved, he will search Europe for me; but he will find me.'"
"Oh, then it was not to be at peace and rest on my mother's bosom I came here; it was to give you the trouble of running after me. Oh, fie!"
"You are right. I am a vain fool."
"No, that you are not. After all, how do I know all that was in my heart? (Ahem!) Be sure of this, you are very welcome. I must go and see about your dinner."
In that Danish farmhouse life was very primitive. Eva Klosking, and both her daughters, helped the two female servants, or directed them, in every department. So Ina, who was on her defense, had many excuses for escaping Vizard, when he pressed her too hotly. But at last she was obliged to say, "Oh, pray, my friend--we are in Denmark: here widows are expected to be discreet."
"But that is no reason why the English fellows who adore them should be discreet."
"Perhaps not: but then the Danish lady runs away."
Which she did.
But, after the bustle of the first day, he had so many opportunities. He walked with her, sat with her while she worked, and hung over her, entranced, while she sung. He produced the book from Vizard Court without warning, and she screamed with delight at sight of it, and caught his hand in both hers and kissed it. She reveled in those sweet strains which had comforted her in affliction: and oh, the eyes she turned on him after singing any song in this particular book! Those tender glances thrilled him to the very marrow.
To tell the honest truth, his arrival was a godsend to Ina Klosking. When she first came home to her native place, and laid her head on her mother's bosom, she was in Elysium. The house, the wood fires, the cooing doves, the bleating calves, the primitive life, the recollections of childhood--all were balm to her, and she felt like ending her days there. But, as the days rolled on, came a sense of monotony and excessive tranquillity. She was on the verge of _ennui_ when Vizard broke in upon her.
From that moment there was no stagnation. He made life very pleasant to her; only her delicacy took the alarm at his open declarations; she thought them so premature.
At last he said to her, one day, "I begin to fear you will never love me as I love you."
"Who knows?" said she. "Time works wonders."
"I wonder," said he, "whether you will ever marry any other man?"
Ina was shocked at that. "Oh, my friend, how could I--unless," said she, with a sly side-glance, "you consented."
"Consent? I'd massacre him."
Ina turned toward him. "You asked my hand at a time when you thought me--I don't know what you thought--that is a thing no woman could forget. And now you have come all this way for me. I am yours, if you can wait for me."
He caught her in his arms. She disengaged herself, gently, and her hand rested an unnecessary moment on his
"Yes, madam."
"It is Mr. Vizard--is it not?"
"Yes, madam."
"Ah, sir, my daughter will welcome you, but not more heartily than I do. My child has told me all she owes to you"--then in Danish, "God bless the hour you come under this roof."
Vizard's heart beat tumultuously, wondering how Ina Klosking would receive him. The servant had told her a tall stranger was come. She knew in a moment who it was; so she had the advantage of being prepared.
She came to him, her cheeks dyed with blushes, and gave him both hands. "You here!" said she; "oh, happy day! Mother, he must have the south chamber. I will go and prepare it for him. Tecla!--Tecla!"--and she was all hostess. She committed him to her mother, while she and the servant went upstairs.
He felt discomfited a little. He wanted to know, all in a moment, whether she would love him.
However, Danish hospitality has its good side. He soon found out he might live the rest of his days there if he chose.
He soon got her alone, and said, "You knew I should find you, cruel one."
"How could I dream of such a thing?" said she, blushing.
"Oh, Love is a detective. You said to yourself, 'If he loves me as I ought to be loved, he will search Europe for me; but he will find me.'"
"Oh, then it was not to be at peace and rest on my mother's bosom I came here; it was to give you the trouble of running after me. Oh, fie!"
"You are right. I am a vain fool."
"No, that you are not. After all, how do I know all that was in my heart? (Ahem!) Be sure of this, you are very welcome. I must go and see about your dinner."
In that Danish farmhouse life was very primitive. Eva Klosking, and both her daughters, helped the two female servants, or directed them, in every department. So Ina, who was on her defense, had many excuses for escaping Vizard, when he pressed her too hotly. But at last she was obliged to say, "Oh, pray, my friend--we are in Denmark: here widows are expected to be discreet."
"But that is no reason why the English fellows who adore them should be discreet."
"Perhaps not: but then the Danish lady runs away."
Which she did.
But, after the bustle of the first day, he had so many opportunities. He walked with her, sat with her while she worked, and hung over her, entranced, while she sung. He produced the book from Vizard Court without warning, and she screamed with delight at sight of it, and caught his hand in both hers and kissed it. She reveled in those sweet strains which had comforted her in affliction: and oh, the eyes she turned on him after singing any song in this particular book! Those tender glances thrilled him to the very marrow.
To tell the honest truth, his arrival was a godsend to Ina Klosking. When she first came home to her native place, and laid her head on her mother's bosom, she was in Elysium. The house, the wood fires, the cooing doves, the bleating calves, the primitive life, the recollections of childhood--all were balm to her, and she felt like ending her days there. But, as the days rolled on, came a sense of monotony and excessive tranquillity. She was on the verge of _ennui_ when Vizard broke in upon her.
From that moment there was no stagnation. He made life very pleasant to her; only her delicacy took the alarm at his open declarations; she thought them so premature.
At last he said to her, one day, "I begin to fear you will never love me as I love you."
"Who knows?" said she. "Time works wonders."
"I wonder," said he, "whether you will ever marry any other man?"
Ina was shocked at that. "Oh, my friend, how could I--unless," said she, with a sly side-glance, "you consented."
"Consent? I'd massacre him."
Ina turned toward him. "You asked my hand at a time when you thought me--I don't know what you thought--that is a thing no woman could forget. And now you have come all this way for me. I am yours, if you can wait for me."
He caught her in his arms. She disengaged herself, gently, and her hand rested an unnecessary moment on his