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She gave no thought, as she sat there, to Cousin Hans; but he thought of Miss Schrappe as he passed with hasty steps up the street. Never had he met a young lady who was less to his taste. The fact that he had been rude to her did not make him like her better. We are not inclined to find those people amiable who have been the occasion of misbehavior on our own part.
While they were thus seated, Cousin Hans examined the captain more closely, and he could not but admit that in spite of his sixty years, Captain Schrappe was still a handsome man. He wore his short, iron-gray mustaches a little turned up at the ends, which gave him a certain air of youthfulness. On the whole, he bore a strong resemblance to King Oscar the First on the old sixpenny-pieces.
There was something about Miss Schrappe that he really could not endure; and he was so much absorbed in this thought that, for a time, he almost forgot the melancholy intelligence that the beloved one Miss Beck was leaving town to-morrow.
After his first paralysis, Cousin Hans's blood began to boil; a violent anguish seized him: he raged against the captain, against Miss Schrappe, against Uncle Frederick and Wellington, and the whole world.
And then his interest in old Schrappe! Can he be in love with Miss Betty? Oh, no," thought Uncle Frederick, shaking his head, as he, too, continued on his way, "I don't believe he has sense enough for that." Cousin Hans did not eat much dinner that day. People in love never eat much, and, besides, he did not care for rissoles. At last five o'clock struck.
It was with difficulty that Cousin Hans could even give short and commonplace answers; it seemed as though all that had interested him in Captain Schrappe had entirely evaporated. And now Hans remembered that on the way home from the esplanade he had promised to give him the whole sham fight in Sweden after supper.
He nodded now and then, but he did not pay the slightest attention. He thought of the lovely Miss Beck, whom he was, perhaps, never to see again; and now and then he stole a glance at Miss Schrappe, to whom he had been so rude. He gave a sudden start as the captain slapped him on the shoulder, with the words, "And it was this point that I was to occupy. What do you think of that?"
"Why so?" answered Cousin Hans, a little sharply; for, on the whole, he did not like the way in which the young lady made her remarks. "Would you have had her mope and pine away?" "No, not at all," answered Miss Schrappe; "but, in my opinion, it would have shown more strength of character if she had felt more indignant at her fiancé's conduct."
He supported himself with both hands against an old, high-backed easy-chair; he neither heard, saw, nor thought; but half mechanically he repeated to himself: "It was not she it was not she!" No, it was not she. The lady whom he had just seen, and who must consequently be Miss Schrappe, had not a trace of blonde hair curling over her brow.
In short, there was about Miss Schrappe nothing of that vagueness and mystery which is woman's most exquisite charm. Furthermore, he had a suspicion that she was "learned." Any other fund of knowledge must always be a dowry of exceedingly doubtful value. Cousin Hans was in the most miserable of moods.
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