He looked out at the window and saw her sweep past towards the market-place. What a vision of proud beauty she was!
When, in course of time, Jörgen came to fetch Mary, or rather to stay to dinner there with her—for he was certain that they would be invited—an even more violent explosion of wrath awaited him; because now Uncle Klaus was extremely dissatisfied with himself too.
"Why the devil did you not come alone? You were afraid!—And you wanted her to sell shares now, when they are worth nothing—like the cursedly extravagant, reckless fellow you always have been!"
Uncle Klaus was wrong; but Jörgen knew him—knew that he must not answer. He slunk away and joined Mary at the house in the market-place, even more wretched than the day when she found him on the ridge, gazing down into the lost paradise. She herself had been weeping with anger and disappointment; but there was abundance of elasticity in her; now came the rebound. Their fall from the triumphant elevation of half-an-hour ago had been so precipitous that when Jörgen's misery was added as a finishing touch, the whole became ridiculous. She laughed so heartily, so exhilaratingly, that even Jörgen was cured. A quarter of an hour later the two went out to order a good dinner, with champagne. They had agreed to take a walk whilst it was being prepared. But no sooner did they feel the delicious fresh air, than Jörgen rushed upstairs again and telephoned to Krogskogen that they were coming out to dine there. It was a good two hours' walk by the new coast-road—how they would enjoy it!
They set off at a rapid pace. It was the very weather for walking, this bright, cool autumn day with the fresh breeze.
The road followed the coast line, rounding all the rocky headlands; they looked forward to the constant changes—from shore to height, from height to shore. On the sea, dark blue to-day, sailing ships and columns of smoke were to be seen, far as the eye could reach. It being Sunday, there were also pleasure-boats out, some gliding about among the islands, others venturing out to the open sea.
At their quick pace, the two young people were soon in the outskirts of the town. They passed a pretty little house in a garden.
"Who lives there?" asked Mary, admiring it.
"Miss Röy, the doctor," answered Jörgen, immediately adding: "Our annoyance and disappointment made me forget to tell you that I met Frans Röy in town."
Unconsciously Mary stood still; involuntarily she blushed. "Frans Röy?" she repeated, looking hard at him—then walked on without waiting for an answer.