Justice Heidt retired quietly, inwardly congratulating himself with the thought that it was just as well he had escaped closer connection with so plebeian a family!
When the guests had left, Soren sat down beside his wife and took her hand, endeavouring to comfort her as well as he could. Cilia still wept, however; as if all the tears she might have shed in her life, but never had, were bursting forth at once. So copious indeed was the flow, that Soren privately reckoned out it would have sufficed to water half the carrot patch at least.
It was with strange thoughts that Cilia retired to rest. She was beginning to realise that she had been dethroned; her power within-doors and abroad was gone for ever; she had made a fool of herself with a vengeance. It was a bitter thing to feel. She went over in her mind the events of the summer: Soren's journey to Sandefjord, her own expedition to Christiania with Lt. Heidt, the party, and the new furniture—how could she ever have been so foolish, so insane!
Towards morning she grew calmer; she had decided what to do, and was herself again.
She rose before the others were stirring, and lit a big fire in the kitchen. Her sharp features showed firm and decided as she stood before the stove, stiffly upright, one hand fiercely clenching a crumpled roll of something white. This she presently threw into the flames with a deep sigh—but a sigh of relief, as if in casting off a burden. It was her dainty indoor cap, with the auriculas, that was sacrificed; the thing hissed and spluttered, vanishing at last in sooty fragments up the chimney.
When Soren and Malvina came down, they found her on all fours in the parlour, hard at work packing up carpets and curtains, knick-knacks and chandeliers. They stood watching her for a while, but Cilia sharply ordered them to help—and willingly they did! Not a word was exchanged between the three; they simply went on packing and packing, closing up the cases and packing more, till they were ready to be carried out into the yard.
In the course of the morning Abrahamsen turned up, and lent a hand with the packing-cases. It was almost as if it were a question of getting some evil influence out of the house as quickly as possible. All four worked together with perfect understanding, and not a word was said either of the engagement or of the party.
"What are we to do with that fellow there?" said Abrahamsen, pointing to the Cupid.
Soren scratched his chin thoughtfully for a while, and, as a result of his cogitations, suggested "making a fountain." He had seen dozens of suchlike figures in the course of his travels. You set them up in gardens, with a hole bored through and a tube let in. Why not stick it up on the pump outside; it would look fine then! But Malvina insisted on getting rid of the thing altogether; it had caused mischief enough as it was. Thus Abrahamsen had an inspiration. "Let's make Lawyer Nickelsen a present of it; he's got a couple of things much the same to look at. I dare say he'd be glad to have one more." The proposal was received with acclamation, Cilia herself offering no objection, but declaring they might do what they pleased with the thing.
Abrahamsen accordingly took the unfortunate Cupid, stuffed it into a sack, and marched off with it. Nickelsen was not a little surprised to receive a visit from the mischievous god, but on learning what was taking place in its former home, he consented to shelter the poor outcast. He also shook hands with Abrahamsen, and said: