Aarö was not at home for very long that winter. He had already spent two years at Havre, from which place he had recently returned; he was now going for a couple of years to Hull. Before this, music had been a favourite pursuit with Ella; she had especially loved and studied harmony, but from this time forward she devoted herself to melody. All music had given her pleasure and she had made some progress in it; but now it became speech to her. She herself spoke in it or another spoke to her. Now, whoever she was with, there was always one as well, she was never alone now, not in the street, not at home; of this the plait was the sacred symbol.
In the course of the spring Fru Holmbo met Ella in the street as she was coming from the pastor's house with her prayer-book in her hand.
"Are you going to be confirmed?" asked Fru Holmbo.
"Yes."
"I have a message for you; can you guess from whom?"
Now, Fru Holmbo was a friend of Aksel Aarö's sister and very intimate with the family. Ella blushed and could not answer.
"I see that you know who it is from," said Fru Holmbo, and Ella blushed more than ever.
With a rather superior smile—and the prettiest lady in the town had a superabundance of them—she said, "Aksel Aarö is not fond of writing. We have only just received his first letter since he left; but in it he writes that when we see 'the girl with the plait,' we are to remember him to her.' She cried at Möhring's song; other people might have done so too,'" he wrote.
The tears sprang to Ella's eyes.