They were up-stairs in the afternoon, standing by the piano singing, when they heard Skarlie come home and go into the sitting-room below. Without making any remarks about this, they went on singing. They sang at last by candle-light, with the windows still open.
When Magnhild came down-stairs Skarlie too had his windows open; he was sitting in the arm-chair in the corner. He rose now and closed the windows; Magnhild drew down the curtains, and in the mean time Skarlie struck a light. While they were still in the dark, he began to express his admiration of the singing to which he had been listening. He praised Magnhild's voice as well as the lady's alto, and of his wife's soprano he repeated his praise. "It is as pure—as you are yourself, my child," said he. He was holding a match to the candle as he spoke, and he appeared almost good-looking, so calm and serious was his shrewd countenance. But ere long there came the play of other thoughts. This indicated a change of mood.
"While you were singing her husband, the captain of engineers, arrived." Magnhild thought he was jesting, but Skarlie added: "He sat in the window opposite listening." Here he laughed.
This so alarmed Magnhild that she was unable to sleep until late that night. For the first time it occurred to her that Fru Bang's husband might be repulsive to her, and she considered the lady's conduct from this point of view. What if those two people really loved each other? Suppose it were her own case? She found herself blushing furiously; for at once Tande's image rose distinctly before her.
When she awoke the next morning she involuntarily listened. Had the tempest already broken loose? Hurriedly putting on her clothes she went into the sitting-room, where Skarlie was preparing to start off again. A portion of the articles he was to have taken with him had not yet arrived; he was obliged to go with what he had and come again in a few days. He took a friendly leave of Magnhild.
She accompanied him as far as the school.
Scarcely had she returned home than she saw a man with red beard and light hair come out of the house opposite, holding little Magda by the hand. This must be Magda's papa. The little girl had his light hair and something of his expression of countenance; but neither his features, nor his form; he was of a heavy build. They crossed the street, entered the house, and went up-stairs. Surely there could be no quarrel when the child was along? Magnhild heard Tande go dress himself, and she heard an audible, "Good-day! Are you here?" in Tande's voice.
Then nothing more, for now the door was softly closed. So filled with anxiety was she that she listened for the least unusual sound overhead; but she heard only the steps now of one, now of both. Soon the door opened, she heard voices, but no contention. All three came down-stairs and went out into the street where the lady stood waiting for them, in her most brilliant toilet, and with the smile of her holiday mood. Tande greeted her, she cordially held out her hand. Then the whole four walked past the house-door, and turned into the garden way to take the usual path across the fields to the wood and the mountains. At first, they sauntered slowly along in a group; later, the father went on in advance with the child, who seemed desirous to lead the way, and the lady and Tande followed, very slowly, very confidentially. Magnhild was left behind alone, overwhelmed with astonishment.
In the afternoon Magda came over with her papa. He greeted Magnhild with a smile and apologized for coming; his little daughter had insisted on his paying his compliments to her friend, he said.
Magnhild asked him to take a seat, but he did not do so at once. He looked at her flowers, talked about them with an air of understanding such as she had never heard before, and begged to be allowed to send her some new plants upon whose proper care he enlarged.