It would have seemed more natural for Nora to remain at Christiania with her friends and relations. It was said certainly that Fru Rendalen's school was so very superior, but that could hardly be the whole explanation; all were curious about the Sheriff's daughter when she appeared. She was a fashionable young lady, tall and slender, and if not exactly elegant, still stylish in dress and manner; a little supercilious; still she did not give offence--she was too pliable for that, too quick as well, entirely taken up with the fancy of the moment. She gave an impetus to all she did, and people forgive a great deal for that.
But no one would forgive her letter-writing, or the incredible number of letters which she received weekly! Not the teachers, for she neglected the school work; not her companions, for she neglected them; nay, she had hardly looked at them! She went to sleep every night with inky fingers and a heap of letters beside her bed; either she was writing letters or reading letters, or crying over them. During every recreation time she ran upstairs to add a few lines, or to read a letter over again which she had just received. As she was worried by the pursuit of the others, she disappeared after every meal. Where was she? There was a hunt for her, and she was found up in the top attic, writing of course, this time upon a large barrel; she was blue with cold. She had left at least twenty particular friends behind her at Christiania; all the twenty wrote to her, and all received answers, long answers--one must never be shorter than the others. Happily, she had another passion, and it often chances that one thing counteracts another. She was crazy about music. She sang snatches of songs with great feeling, but, partly because at her age she could not sing much at a time, partly because she had not training enough to carry out a delicate interpretation, she could never properly render anything as a whole. But even so, she was much admired by her companions, and by none more than Tinka Hansen. For Tinka was herself musical, but in another and more unpretending fashion. Like her sister Augusta, she had developed early, especially in her powers of conversation. Katinka was even-tempered, bright, dependable; everything she played, and that was a great deal, she knew by heart. It was therefore she who obediently accompanied Nora's songs. But her execution was not worth much; Nora very soon took her in hand, and was not satisfied until she had brought her to the point she wished; Tinka was extremely grateful for all this.
One day Nora discovered Tinka's powerful contralto, and from that time there were duets and duets. Their age suggested prudence, and if Nora would not use moderation, Tinka both would and could. Nora was used to command, so there were quarrels; but Tinka was so accustomed to conquer when her conscience told her that she was right, that Nora was completely vanquished. This was the foundation of their friendship. To have a friend who at once admired and restrained her was especially safe and good for Nora. But Nora acted upon Tinka like a succession of impressions of art upon one who has seen nothing up to that time. As Nora was absolutely confidential, it seemed to the conscientious Tinka that this ought to be returned.
Every one knew it, but not to a living being would she have admitted it: Tinka was engaged. He, the man, had just gone to college; she had a letter from him once a week; for many reasons she did not wish to have them oftener. He was called Frederik--Frederik Tygesen; his father was the stipendiary judge Tygesen, here in the town. Nora was "the first person in the world" whom she had told this to.
How delighted Nora was! Really, properly engaged, with letters every week and the tacit consent of her parents. How had it come about? Well, that was the odd thing about it; they neither of them knew. They had once when she was eight years old, through an open door, heard Fru Rendalen and her mother talking about Augusta and Tomas Rendalen, about what he had said to his mother about Augusta, and what she had said to her mother about Tomas. Ever since then these children had been fond of each other, just as those other two had been; but they had never spoken about it--never. A sincere friendship was founded between Nora and Tinka upon this confidence, and Tinka's friendship brought others with it. Nora was obliged to recall some of her interests from Christiania, and by degrees to form a new circle of admirers.
She began to write less frequently to the friends in Christiania, and the letters would begin, "It is a terribly long time since," or "I really am a wretch who----," or "Procrastination is to blame."
But there was a limit to those whom she could conquer in the new senior class, and this did not please her; in fact, she principally coveted the friendship of those who withheld it, but all the same she could not pass this boundary. The fact was that a queen had reigned there before her--nay, was there still. Her ways of gaining power were different from Nora's; whether they were less or not, depended on who it was who measured them. First of all, she was the richest heiress in the town; secondly, if there were the slightest sign of rain, snow, or cold wind, a servant drove up to fetch her home, and then it was a question who should drive home with her.
She had almost always something good with her; her pocket-money was of that description that the more she spent, the more she had; the resources of her dainty little purse were incredible in this respect. She got money from her mother, from her father, from two unmarried uncles. As well as this she was pretty, discreet, attentive; no one had ever known her to use a hasty word, or be rough, even at the gymnasium; she was always very polite and a little subdued. In her eyes, to forget yourself was the worst of crimes. She had lived, so to say, wrapped up in cotton wool, and one felt this whenever one approached her. We know her already; she is Emilie Engel.
She was not specially gifted, but was industrious; she really worked hard when there was anything on foot. Every one liked her, several paid court to her, one or two absolutely raved about her.
Tinka Hansen belonged to none of these groups; if ever she devoted herself to any one it would be to her opposite; quiet, dutiful Milla was too like herself.