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I don't know what we're to do, really! I'd like to have the place thoroughly cleaned up." So that letter was asking her to come back! I thought to myself. But then, again, it was some days since he had written, and I had been to the post several times myself, after, but no answer had come. I knew Fruen's writing. I had seen it six years before.
Ragnhild, however, had done a thing on her own responsibility which perhaps she ought not to have done she had taken the photos from the piano and thrown them in the stove. "Was it wrong, now?" "No, no, Ragnhild! No!" She told us, also, that she had been through Fruen's wardrobe and sorted out all handkerchiefs that were not hers.
Meanwhile the Captain stayed indoors all alone; it was dull enough; now and again he would touch the keys of Fruen's piano. He came out once or twice to where we were at work, and he carried no umbrella, but let himself get drenched to the skin. "Grand weather for the crops!" he would say; or again, "Looks like being an extra special harvest this year!"
Ragnhild was taking in trays of food and bottles, and waiting at table; once when she came out, she laughed to herself and said to the other girls: "I believe Fruen's drunk herself tonight." I had not slept the night before, nor had my midday rest; I was troubled and nervous after all that had happened the last two days.
Such things had happened this evening, she whispered. Shut the window! Fruen and that engineer fellow never a thought of being careful 'twas as near as ever could be but they'd have done it. He was holding on to her when Ragnhild went in with the letter. Ugh! Up in Fruen's room, with the lamp blown out. "You're mad," said I to Ragnhild. But the girl had both heard and seen well enough, it seemed.
Ragnhild came up, too, and looked at me wonderingly. I turned the lamp towards Fruen's face and said: "I beg pardon for coming up so late. I'll be going to the post first thing tomorrow; I thought if perhaps Fruen had any letters to go?" "Letters? No," she answered, shaking her head. There was an absent look in her eyes, but she did not look in the least as if she had been drinking.
He would be all the better for a pleasant little surprise, for yes, there had been something of a scene the night before he left. Some new reminder, no doubt, of the trouble that had come upon his house; a book, perhaps, still unburnt, lying about in Fruen's room. He had ended up by saying: "Anyhow, I'm cutting timber now to pay it off. And the harvest we've got in means a lot of money.
While I was telling him, he came upon Fruen's letter, and at once packing up the whole bundle together, he turned to me with a sudden intensified interest in other people's crops and the state of the roads. Keeping himself well in hand; he was not going to show feeling openly. He nodded as he walked off, and said "Thank you" once more.
There's only us here now, and we can't say more to her than we have." "And where's Grindhusen?" "Changing the horses again. And Fruen's sitting there in the carriage and won't get out. You go and speak to her." "Oh, well, there's no great harm in her driving about a bit. Don't worry about that." I went out to the carriage, my heart beating fast. How miserable and desperate she must be!
"Scowling, eh?" says the Captain, joining in, with a forced laugh. Fruen takes him up on the instant. "Ah! you managed to hear that time!" "Really, Lovise...." Fruen's eyes dimmed suddenly; she stood a moment then ran, stooping forward, round behind the frames, and sobbed. The Captain went over to her. "What is it, Lovise, tell me?" "Oh, nothing, nothing! Go away." She was sick; we could hear it.
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