Mary, Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson [book series for 10 year olds .txt] 📗

way; he looked, and looked again.

"Won't you go in?"

"May I?"

"Certainly."

He approached the threshold and crossed it slowly, she following. Then he stood perfectly still, breathing deeply, she at his side. Was the room hung with lace? He could not collect his impressions ... the bed and the furniture, white with blue, or blue with white; Cupids on the ceiling; paintings, amongst them one of her beautiful mother, with flowers in front of it ... and a fragrance--exhaled not by the flowers alone, but by Mary herself and her belongings. She was there, beside him, in her blue dress with the elbow-sleeves. In the midst of this purity of fragrance and colour he felt ashamed of himself--so ashamed that he could have rushed out. He could not control his feeling; his breast heaved; he trembled, and was on the point of bursting into tears. Then two white arms gleamed, and he heard something said--blue and white and white and blue, the words also. The door was closed behind him--it must have been done to conceal his weakness. The two white arms gleamed again, and he heard distinctly: "Why, Joergen! Joergen!" He felt a hand on his arm, and sank on to a chair. She had really said "Joergen"--said it twice. Now she stroked his forehead and smoothed the hair back from it, with a touch soft as a flower-petal. It loosed something; everything hard and painful melted under her hand and flowed away, leaving an indescribable feeling of warmth. She who now bent over him was, in truth, the first who had helped him since he was a child. He had been so lonely! There was confidence in him in the touch of her hand. How undeserved! But how it comforted him! He dreamed that he, too, was good, was under the control of beneficent powers. The white and the blue spread a canopy over him. Underneath it these large, sympathetic eyes drew his soul into theirs. He said apologetically and very low: "I could not bear it any longer." What it was he had not been able to bear, she understood, for she immediately moved away.

"Mary!" he whispered. The word fell involuntarily from his lips; he was thinking aloud. It alarmed him, it alarmed her. She moved farther away; a confused look came into her eyes; something as it were failed her. He saw this--and before she could foresee, before he himself knew what he was doing, he was beside her, embracing her, pressing her close to him. Excited by the feeling of her body against his, he kissed, kissed, wherever his lips reached. She bent away from him, now to this side, now to that, upon which he kissed her neck, round and round. She felt that she was in danger. She had only one arm free, but with it she pushed him from her, at the same time bending her body so far back that she was on the point of falling. This brought him above her; desire awoke, he would take advantage of the situation. But he had to loosen his right arm to grasp her with. In doing so he released her left arm; she set it against his breast with all her strength, and was now able to turn sidewards and rise to her feet. Their eyes met, fierce and flaming. Neither spoke. They were breathing short and hard.

"Mary!" screamed some one outside. It was Mrs. Dawes. Mrs. Dawes, who was supposed to be unable to leave her bed, stood in the passage. "Mary!" she screamed once again, as if she were about to faint. Both rushed out. Mrs. Dawes was standing in her night-dress outside her open door, leaning against the wall. She was in the act of falling when Joergen Thiis sprang forward and caught her. One servant after the other rushed upstairs--even little Nanna came. Joergen stood supporting Mrs. Dawes until, with their united strength, they lifted her and carried her in. She was incapable of setting her foot to the ground again. Her eyes were closed; whether she was in a faint or not they did not know. She was a terrible weight. It was all they could do to get her across the threshold. Then they proceeded slowly towards the bed; but the worst was to come, the lifting her in. Every time the heavy body reached the edge of the bed, the legs refused to follow, and down the unfortunate lady slipped again. She did not help herself in the least, she only groaned; and before they could get a proper grip, she was on the floor. When they had once again raised the weighty mass, but not far enough for it to hold itself in position unsupported, they stood helpless, for they had no idea how to manoeuvre it farther. Nanna burst out laughing and ran out of the room. Joergen shot a furious glance after her. This was too much even for Mary. Three minutes ago she had been engaged in a desperate struggle--now she was seized with such an inclination to laugh that she, too, had to run away. She was standing outside with her handkerchief to her mouth, doubled up with laughter, when the nurse came out of her father's room; he wished to know what was going on. Mary went to him. She could hardly tell him for laughing--tell him, that is, about Mrs. Dawes's position, and Joergen's and the servants' struggles. Her father tried to ask why Mrs. Dawes had been in the passage. This stopped Mary's laughter. One of the maids came from the other room and said that Mrs. Dawes was now in bed, and that she wished to speak to Miss Krog.

Joergen was standing at the foot of the bed. Mrs. Dawes lay groaning and weeping and calling for Mary. No sooner did Mary appear at the door than she began:

"What was happening to you, child? Sudden terror seized me. What was going on?"

Mary went up to the bed without looking at Joergen. She knelt down and put her arm round her old friend's neck.

"Oh, Aunt Eva!" she said, and laid her head on the old lady's breast. Presently she began to cry.

"What is it? What is it? What is making you so unhappy?" moaned Mrs. Dawes, stroking the beautiful hair.

At last Mary looked up. Joergen Thiis had gone; but she still kept silence.

"I have never felt like that," began Mrs. Dawes again, "except when something dreadful was happening."

Mary kept silence.

"Had Joergen Thiis anything to do with it?"

Mary gave her a look.

"Ah! that is what I feared. But remember, my child, that he has loved you since the first time he saw you--you, and no one else. That means a great deal. And never once so much as hinted it to you--has he?"

Mary shook her head.

"It's no small thing, that either. It shows strength of character. He has served you and he has honoured you--don't be too hard on him. Not till now, when you are poor, does he dare--but what was it?"

Mary waited a little; then she said:

"First I thought he was ill. Then he suddenly lost his senses."

"Oh, I could tell you something. I too.... Yes, yes, yes!" She seemed lost in thought. Then she murmured: "Those who go for years...."

But Mary cut her short. "Don't let us talk any more about it," she said, rising.

"No. Only it is...."

"No more on that subject, please!" repeated Mary, walking to the window. Standing there she heard Mrs. Dawes say: "You must let me tell you that he has spoken to me--asked me if he dared offer himself to you. He can imagine no greater happiness than to help you when we are no longer able. But he thinks that you are too unapproachable."

Mary made an involuntary movement. Mrs. Dawes saw it.

"Don't be too hard on him, Mary. Do you know, child, that your father and I think ..."

"Now, Aunt Eva!" Mary turned sharply towards her--not as if she were angry, but yet in such a manner as to check the words on the old lady's lips.

Mary remained in the room. She would not risk meeting Joergen Thiis. When she was doing some small service for Mrs. Dawes, the latter said: "You know, child, that Joergen is to have Uncle Klaus's money?" As Mary did not answer, she ventured to go on. "And he believes that Uncle Klaus will help him if he marries." This, too, Mary allowed to pass unnoticed.

When there was no longer any danger, she went to her own room. There she recalled the scene from beginning to end. Her cheeks burned, but she was astonished that, dreadful though it had been, she was not really angry.

Just as she was thinking: What will happen next? there was a gentle knock at the door. Now she felt angry, and inclined to jump up and turn the key. Presently, however, she said: "Come in!" The door was opened and closed, but she did not look round from where she sat in her big chair. Gently, humbly, Joergen came forward and knelt down on one knee in front of her, hiding his face with his hands. There was nothing in the action that offended her. He was strongly agitated. She looked down upon the handsome head with the soft hair, and her eyes fell on the long, true musician's fingers. Something refined about him conciliated her. But a mournful: "Shall I go!" was all that came from him. She waited a little, then in a low voice answered: "Yes." He let his hands drop, seized one of hers and pressed his lips to it--long, but reverently; then rose and left the room.

During the kiss, reverential as it was, a feeling of excitement passed through Mary, of the same nature as that which, when he kissed and kissed again, had made her almost faint away. She sat still, long after he had gone, wondering at this. She once more recalled every particular of their struggle, and shuddered. "Why am I not angry with him?"

Another knock was heard. It was the maid with a request from Mrs. Dawes that Mary would come to her.

"You have let him go, child?"

Mrs. Dawes was in real distress. In her agitation she sat up, supporting herself on one arm. Her cap was awry upon her grey, short hair; the fat neck was redder than usual, as if she were too hot.

"Why did you let him go?" she repeated.

"It was his own wish."

"How can you say such a thing, child? He has been here complaining. He would give his life to stay! You don't understand in the least. You do nothing but reject his advances, and torture him."

She lay down again, in exhaustion and despair. The word "torture" produced a momentary comic impression on Mary; but she herself had the feeling that she ought to have spoken to Joergen before she let him go. That he was to go, she was quite determined.

On these events followed rather a hard time for them all. A change in the weather affected Anders Krog unfavourably; he was unable to take sufficient nourishment, and had more difficulty in speaking. Mary was much with him; and at these times his eyes rested on her and followed her so persistently that she almost felt afraid.

Mrs. Dawes sent small notes in to him. She could not give up her writing, even in bed. He looked long at Mary each time one of these notes came; so she guessed what they were about.