Soren's complete lack of tender feeling was one of the things that often worried her. It was particularly noticeable in his letters. He would write, for instance, in this style:
"Madam Cilia Braaten,—Arrived here in London fourteen days out from the Sound. All well, and now discharging cargo. Have drawn £120 from the agents here, which please find enclosed. I await instructions as to further movements, and beg to remain—Yours very truly,
"S. Braaten."
Cilia flung the letter in a drawer and raged. Was this love? The simpleton—he should have been left to manage things for himself—and where would he have been then? This was all the thanks one got for all the toil and trouble. Why couldn't he write letters like Mrs. Pedersen got from her husband, who was skipper of the Vestalinde, commencing "My darling wife," and ending up with "Ever your loving—" That was something like affection! A very different thing from Soren's "Yours very truly." Mrs. Cilia was bursting with indignation.
She pondered the matter for some time, seeking to find a way of making Soren a little more demonstrative. And next time she wrote, she put it to him delicately, as follows:
"My dearest Husband,—I was very glad to receive your letter with the £120, but sorry you say nothing about how you are yourself. I often think affectionately of you, but there is a coolness about your letters which makes me quite unhappy to think of. You know I love you, and you know, too, how sorry I am to have to send you up into the Baltic so late in the year, but the freight was so good that I could not refuse it. Put on warm things, and see you have plenty of good food on board, and if you make a good voyage of it this time I hope to have another nice remittance from you before Christmas. And do let us agree for the future to sign our letters—'Ever your loving'
"Cilia Braaten."
The result of this appeal to Soren's tender feelings was not long delayed. It happened that Gudmunsen, skipper of the Apollo, while in Christiania with a cargo of coal, went on the spree there to such an all-obliterating extent that Mrs. Cilia received no accounts, and no freight money. She therefore wrote to Soren, who was in London, asking him to cable by return what was to be done with Gudmunsen. The reply came back as follows:
"Chuck him out.—Ever your loving