They now drew near to a long building with two wings; the whole built of wood. In the courtyard a number of sledges were standing. There were a great many people here then! A stableman took their horses; the waiter who was to attend to them, a German, was quickly at hand, and a bareheaded jovial man joined them as well—it was Peter Klausson. He seemed to have been expecting them, and wished to relieve Ella of her wraps, but he smelt of cognac or something of the sort, and to get rid of him she inquired for the room in which they were to lunch. They were shown into a warm cosy apartment where the table was laid. Aarö helped her off with her things.
"I could not endure Peter Klausson's breath," she said, at which Aarö smiled.
"In America we have a remedy for that."
"What do you mean?"
"One takes something which scents the breath."
A moment later he asked her to excuse him. He had to arrange a few things. She was thus alone until some one knocked at the door. It was Peter Klausson again. He saw her astonishment and smiled.
"We are to lunch together," he said.
"Are we?" she replied.
She looked at the table; it was laid for five.