Garman and Worse | Page 8

the point.
"It was because--because I was alone in the boat," returned he,
stammering. He saw at once that it was a stupid remark, but it was said
and could not be mended.
"Perhaps you prefer to be alone in the boat?" she asked hastily, fixing
her eyes upon him. But when she saw the long helpless creature
standing before her in such a miserable state of confusion, strong and
handsome as he was, she sprang up, threw her arms round his neck, and
said, half laughing, half crying, "Oh, Per! Per!"
Per had not the faintest idea how he ought to behave when a lady had
her arms round his neck, and so stood perfectly still. He looked down
upon her long dark hair and slender figure, and, trembling at his own
audacity, he put his heavy arm limply round her.
They were now out on the dunes, and she sat down behind one of the
largest tussocks, on the warm sand. He ventured to place himself by her
side, and looked vacantly around him. Every now and then he cast his
eye upon her, but still doubtfully. It was clear that he did not grasp the
situation, and at length he appeared to her so absurd that she sprang up,
and cried, "Come, Per, let's have a run!"
Away they went, now running, now at a foot's pace. His heavy
sea-boots made a broad impression upon the sand, and the mark of her
shoe looked so tiny by the side of it that they could not help turning
round and laughing. They jested and laughed as if they knew not that

they were no longer children, and she made Per promise to give up
chewing tobacco.
Away along the curving shore, with the salt breath of ocean fresh upon
them, went these young hearts, rejoicing in their existence, while the
sea danced in sparkling wavelets at their feet.
The _attaché_ had just finished a letter to his brother; it was one of
these wearisome business letters, enclosing some papers he had had to
sign. He never could make out where the proper place was for him to
put his name on these tiresome, long-winded documents. But,
wonderful to relate, his brother always told him that it was perfectly
correct, and Christian Frederick was most particular in such matters.
The old gentleman had just sent off the letter, and was beginning to
breathe more easily, when he went to the window and looked out. He
discovered two forms going in a northerly direction over the sand-hills.
Half abstractedly, he went to the other window and directed the large
telestope upon them.
"Humph!" said he, "I declare, they're there again."
Suddenly he took his eye from the telescope.
"Hulloa! the girl must be mad."
He put his eye down again to the telescope, and threw away his
cigarette. There was no doubt about it--there was his own Madeleine
hanging round Per's neck. He rubbed the glass excitedly with his
pocket-handkerchief. They were now going respectably enough side by
side; now they were among the grassy knolls, and behind one of them
they disappeared from his sight. He thoughtfully directed the telescope
to the other side of the hillock and waited. "What now?" muttered he,
giving the glass another rub. They had not yet come from behind the
hillock. For a few minutes the father was quite nervous. At last he saw
one form raise itself, and immediately after another.
The telescope was perfect, and the old gentleman took in the situation

just as well as if he had himself been sitting by their side.
"Ah! it's well it's no worse," he murmured; "but it's bad enough as it is.
I shall have to send her off to the town."
When they were at dinner, he said, "You know, Madeleine, we have
long been talking about your staying a little while at Sandsgaard."
"Oh no, father," broke in Madeleine, looking beseechingly at him.
"Yes, child; it's quite time now in my opinion." He spoke in an
unusually determined tone.
Madeleine could see that he knew everything, and all at once the events
of the morning stood in their true light before her. As she sat there, in
their well-appointed room, opposite her father, who looked so refined
and stately, Per and the shore, and everything that belonged to it, bore
quite a different aspect, and instead of the joyful confession she had
pictured to herself as she went homewards, she looked down in
confusion and blushed to the very roots of her hair.
The visit was thus arranged, and Madeleine was delighted that her
father had not observed her confusion; and he was glad enough to
escape any further explanation on the subject, for it was just in such
matters that the old