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Updated: June 11, 2025


"Why, but there's nothing to cry about!" said Mason Stolpe, as he led her indoors. "Go to bed now I'll soon sing the Vanishing Man to sleep! Thank God for to-day, mother!" Pelle had placed his work-bench against the wall-space between the two windows of the living-room. There was just room to squeeze past between the edge of the bench and the round table which stood in the middle of the room.

Pelle rose in consternation; he had quite forgotten the time. "Take the lass with you," said Stolpe. "You go the same way, don't you, Ellen? Then you'll have company. There's no danger going with her, for she's a saint." It sounded as though he wanted to make up for his scolding. "Come again soon; you will always be welcome here." They did not speak much on the way home.

"Now you see how father can speak," said Madam Stolpe. "When nothing depends on it then he can speak!" "What's that you say, mother?" cried Stolpe, astonished. He was not accustomed to criticism from that source. "Just listen to that now one's own wife is beginning to pull away the scaffolding-poles from under one!" "Well, that's what I say!" she rejoined, looking at him boldly.

Stolpe found Pelle was cooling down, and used to tease him a little, in order to make him answer the helm; but that angered Ellen, and resulted in explosions she would tolerate no criticism of Pelle. She went to see them only when Pelle proposed it; she herself seemed to feel no desire to see her family, but preferred staying at home.

Madam Stolpe came in and drew Pelle into the bedroom, where Ellen stood like a snow-white revelation, with a long veil and a myrtle-wreath in her hair. "Really you two are supposed not to see one another, but I think that's wrong," she said, and with a loving glance she pushed them into each other's arms.

He looked half a dreamy adventurer, half a soldier. "That's the grand master," said Stolpe proudly, standing at Pelle's side. "There was always a crowd of women at his heels. But they kept themselves politely in the background, for a fire went out of him at such times do you understand? Then it was Men to the front! And even the laziest fellow pricked up his ears."

After a while Stolpe returned with some old newspapers, which he wanted to show Pelle. Ellen stood behind his chair, looking down at them; she rested her arm on his shoulders and idly ruffled his hair. The mother pulled at her skirt. The papers were illustrated, and went back to the stirring times. The clock struck the half-hour; it was half-past eleven.

In the living room sat Stolpe, a mason, reading The Working Man. He was in shirt sleeves, and was resting his heavy arms on the table. He read whispering to himself, he had not noticed that a guest was in the room. "Here's some one who would like to say how-d'ye-do to father," said Otto, laying his hand on his father's arm. Stolpe raised his head and looked at Pelle.

"Let me tell you, father, that it's not me that sent for you, but Pelle; and if you don't give him your hand and say you've done him an injustice, we shall never be good friends again!" "Upon my word, she's the same confounded way of taking the bull by the horns that she always had!" said Stolpe, without looking at her.

No, you take my word, he knows what he wants. She's really found her master there!" said Stolpe triumphantly. In the two brothers Pelle found a pair of loyal comrades, who could not but look up to him. With the embargo matters were going so-so.

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