Loppen looked up. For a moment there was a blaze of defiance and impudence in the big, bright eyes; but all at once she broke down, and walked a few steps sobbing, while she leaned on Miss Falbe.
Elsie wore a brown shawl, and had nothing upon her head. She had grown thin and pale in the face, and as she walked along, bowed and weeping, her neck was so rough and scrawny, that no one would have suspected that she had not yet completed her twentieth year. There was nothing left of her but her eyes, the big, bright eyes which were all the larger now that her face had lost its roundness.
She could make no response; she did not even try to do so, and Miss Falbe proceeded without waiting for an answer:
“I told Christian when I came out that I should bring you home with me if I met you. I shall go home at six; I am only going down to the mill to see a sick woman. Then we will drink our tea, and eat our porridge together. You can just as well sleep there, too; I will arrange the lounge for you in the sitting-room.”
Elsie pressed her hand. They stood behind high stone steps where it was quite dark, and Miss Falbe took her about the waist.
“You must promise me sure that you will come, Elsie.”
“Yes, miss, I will come,” answered Elsie firmly, and looked up.
“Thank you; now you are a good girl,” cried Miss Falbe joyfully, “now you must start over there. It is past five o’clock; I hear the bells ringing at the churches, so I will be there soon after you. Christian is at home; it is nice and warm there; tell him I will be there right away.”
With that she hurried away. She was so happy that she almost ran.
But Loppen walked slowly toward the town, while she kept in the shadow as much as possible. To reach the Ark she had first to pass through the more aristocratic quarter, where the gaslights were more frequent, and where also the shops lit up what they could of an evening.