Some people were incensed; some laughed; some few, including the Town Bailiff, would not give in; but how could a new school be started without Consul Engel? And when in cold blood the advantages were considered, who did not at last wish for peace? The daughter of the school's benefactress married to Niels Fürst--that was in itself victory, and that sufficed. One or two marriages of this sort, especially amongst the most advanced pupils at the school, and the good old constitution, the good old distribution of virtue and authority between the sexes, would remain unshaken. Rendalen, the Society, and Miss Hall might stick to their views if they liked. Tora was never mentioned now.
Milla was to be married on a Monday, and to leave the same night; she was to arrive the evening of the previous Friday; she would not be three days in the town! That did not imply a vast amount of courage, her quondam friends considered. Not one of them went down to the landing-place to meet her. But there was no need for them, for, notwithstanding a drenching rain, it was densely crowded. The wedding for which she was returning, even if nothing special had happened previously, would have been the most important that any one could remember. The bridegroom, aided by the unusually large fortune which he would command, would be able to enter upon a career at Court which would lead to the highest positions in the country. Every one who knew him described him as a "born politician;" not very flattering to politicians, but that I cannot help.
The bride was a beauty capable of becoming a thorough woman of the world. Besides, she was to remain so short a time at home, that every one must secure a glimpse of her.
Flags were hoisted everywhere, but they drooped along the masts in quite a shamefaced manner, mere patches of colour--the beautiful green-clad mountains at the head of the bay were shrouded in fog. Houses, gardens, sea, seemed to lie in a casket whose cover was the grey woolly mist.
The house-roofs were no longer red-brown but black; the houses not white, but ashen grey; not yellow, but a sooty colour; all the tints were subdued by several shades, the houses themselves seemed to crowd closer together, and appeared wonderfully small and crooked to the girl fresh from Paris, who stood, in the rain, on the deck of the steamer which was gliding in among the islands. Only the great building up at "The Estate" and the formal stone walls by the side of the avenue loomed out from their encircling trees; but the red bricks looked dark and ominous, the window-frames a pitchy black, the dumpy frowning tower seemed to stand on the watch; as they drew nearer a huge white flag-staff could be seen on it without a flag. "The Estate" lay hemmed in, wide and menacing. Milla's glances wandered down from it towards the Cross Church with its slender spire, from which the joyful soul of Max Kurt had ascended to heaven; not that Milla thought of this, but under that spire she would, notwithstanding ... But, good Heavens, what is that? all that moving mass of black on the landing-place up to the very walls of the houses? Umbrellas? Absolutely nothing but umbrellas! What could that mean? From all the information which had been sent to her, and perhaps even more from what had not, she was quite convinced that if things were not all that she could wish, yet still there was peace here now, and no danger. Dean Green's authority protected her, and she herself did not wish to do any one an injury. But at the sight of all these people, a remembrance rushed to her mind of the way in which poor Fru Rendalen had been received, when she had returned from her journey with Tora. Milla turned deadly white; a fearful dread seized her. Although she struggled against it with all her might, she could not help trembling; her knees trembled so that her whole body shook; she had to support herself, to sit down. In the short space of five minutes she went through more--ah! more than when her mother died, for then a comforter hovered over her; the gloom was lightened by the hope of a future meeting. Now she felt separated, cut off, plunged into an abyss!
A sound of pitiless laughter surrounded her; people were trying to grasp her hands--where could she creep to?
Her father was on board, but at the moment was down below collecting the luggage and paying the steward. He heard the vessel swing noisily in towards the quay, and then cheers from hundreds of voices, repeated again and again. He came on deck, and his daughter rushed towards him, seized him, pressed herself against him, her lips quivering, and trembling in every limb. She who was ordinarily so self-contained, was in a state of nervous excitement.
"Why, Milla? They are calling out 'Hurrah for the bride!'"
"Hold me," she whispered. "Let me collect myself, I did not know, I thought----" And she cried--ah, how she cried!
Happily there was some obstruction at the quay, and a little time elapsed before they were alongside. The captain stormed; as Milla listened, the strain relaxed; so that when she stepped on shore, leaning on her father's arm, though still pale and trembling slightly, she could smile from under her coquettish hat as she passed in her charming travelling dress. Tears were becoming to her.