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"I have been trying to understand," she said after awhile, "how it happens that you are full of thoughts, and all the other people I know and I myself have none." "Oh," he said, "dear Mamsell, it is simply because you have not loved life warmly enough." "Not warmly enough ?" she said thoughtfully. "Yes," he said, "that's the explanation.
Now in her old age no one noticed what Mamsell Fredrika looked like. Those who saw the little, slender figure, the tiny, delicate hands and the kind, clever face, instantly longed to be able to preserve that sight in remembrance as the most beautiful of memories. In Mamsell Fredrika's big room, among many relics and souvenirs, there was a little, dry bush.
The massive plate in the house gives many a lady the boldness to teach that in which she herself might perhaps have been instructed. Many a lady, like the Mamsell from Holstebro, dresses always in silk and a long shawl, and if one asks after her profession one finds it consists at most in dress-making; perhaps she does not even possess the little accompanying talent of playing the flute.
As she thought of this, there welled up within her such an intense longing for the old times that her eyes filled with tears. Life had been beautiful in this place. They had had weeks of work broken by many holiday festivities. They had toiled hard all day, but at evening they had gathered around the lamp and read Tegner and Runeberg, "Fru" Lenngren and "Mamsell" Bremer.
Otto meantime cut out of the green melon-peel a man, and made him ride on the edge of his glass; that withdrew Sophie's attention from the Kammerjunker. The whole company found that this little cut-out figure was very pretty; and the Mamsell begged that she might have it it should lie in her work-box. Toward evening all were in preparation for the approaching tableaux. Eva must represent Hero.
The sitting-room door opened, and the wife herself, a stout, square woman, with an honest, contented countenance, stepped out and received the guests with kisses and embraces. Alas! her good Jutland pronunciation cannot be given in writing. "O, how glorious that the Mamsell comes and brings Mr. Thostrup with her! How handsome he is become! and how grown! Yes, we have his mark still on the door."
Watch for her when she goes to early mass, stern Sir Knight, watch for her on the church-road! Old Mamsell Fredrika sleeps quietly in her beloved home. No one deserves more than she the sweetness of rest. Like a Christmas angel she sat but now in a circle of children, and told them of Jesus and the shepherds, told until her eyes shone, and her withered face became transfigured.
The priest stepped down from the pulpit as they entered the church, and the closing hymn began. Never had Mamsell Fredrika heard such a beautiful song. It was as if both earth and heaven joined in, in the song; as if every bench and stone and board had sung too.
How does the leathery Frau Mama? Ha! Ha! Frau Mama! How does the Frau Mama? She makes the Papa tea! She makes the Papa tea! She makes the Papa leathery tea! Ha! Ha! Leathery tea! She makes the Papa tea! How does the Mamsell Soeur? How does the Mamsell Soeur? How does the leathery Mamsell Soeur? Ha! Ha! Mamsell Soeur! How does the Mamsell Soeur? She knits the Papa stockings!
No, Mamsell, we'll stick to the old system." So they walked along through the splendor of spring, until music sounded in their ears. "Where does it come from?" asked the engraver. "From Rödchen," said she, absent-mindedly. "Let us go there. Dance-music ... I shouldn't mind ... among the peasant-folk ... How would it be?" "These are not peasants," she said.
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