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Updated: June 5, 2025
That's easy enough, of course!" said Madam Johnsen, laughing loudly. "Why, to be sure, in my pretty young days too the men wanted to go to the capital to make their fortunes. I was just sixteen when I came here for purposes of my own where was a pretty girl to find everything splendid, if not here?
"You say that so curiously, as if you did know something and wouldn't come out with it and I, poor woman, I don't know where to turn." The good-natured woman began to cry. "And why don't you come over to see us any more?" "Oh, I don't know I've so much on hand, Madam Johnsen," answered Pelle evasively. "If only she's not bewitched.
She sat with downcast eyes, like a lady in her boudoir, and did not look at him. But Madam Johnsen was quite ready to go the poor old woman quickly got into her best clothes. "It's a long time since we two have been out together, Pelle," she said gaily, as they walked through the city. "You've been so frightfully busy lately. They say you go about to meetings. That is all right for a young man.
'You've betrayed me with some fine gentleman' he used so often to say that. 'We poor folks couldn't bring a piece like that into the world! 'As God lives, Johnsen, I used to say, 'you and no other are the girl's father. But he used to beat us he wouldn't believe me. He used to fly into a rage when he looked at the child, and he hated us both because she was so fine.
He looked so calm that many people averred that they had never seen a young clergyman more at home in the pulpit. Johnsen had sharp eyes, and could recognize many of the faces below him; but he was conscious of Rachel's presence, as she sat opposite to him in the Garmans' pew, more by an instinctive feeling than because he actually saw her.
It was quite true that he was going to Sandsgaard, but Delphin's statement that he was there every day was an exaggeration. Since that Sunday, when the conversation had waxed so warm, he had not been at Sandsgaard; but his thoughts had been occupied ever since by the recollection of his last conversation with Rachel in the garden. Eric Johnsen came, as he often said, of a poor family.
Madam Johnsen met an acquaintance who was selling "dying pigs." She sat down beside her. "You go over there now and have a bit of a dance while I rest my tired legs," she said. The young people went across to the dancing marquee and stood among the onlookers. From time to time they had five ore worth of dancing.
"Then take my arm it's only proper with a pair of sweethearts," said Pelle, joking. The old woman took his arm and went tripping youthfully along. "Yes, if it had been in my young days, I would soon have known how to dissuade you from your silly tricks," she said gaily. "I should have been taking you to the dance." "But you didn't manage to get Johnsen to give them up," said Pelle in reply.
Then they trudged on again. Madam Johnsen was paying a rare visit to the forest and wanted to see everything. The young people raised objections, but she was not to be dissuaded. She had girlhood memories of the forest, and she wanted to renew them; let them say what they would. If they were tired of running after her they could go their own way.
They took him over to the "Ark," the old night watchman giving up his room and going up to Widow Johnsen; there he slept in the daytime, and at night went about his duties; a possible arrangement, although there was only one bed. When Lasse was put into a warm bed he lay there shivering; and he was not quite clear in his mind.
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