He was not angry now at her old-fashioned, foreign ways. Indeed, they pleased him.
“Well, I’ll ask your uncle,” he said.
He went down into the basement, but before he got to the kitchen he passed the open door of Ingeborg’s dark little room, and in there he saw her hat and coat lying on the bed.
“He might say no, that old squarehead,” thought Gunnar; so he took the hat and coat, and ran upstairs again. “It’s all right,” he assured the girl.
If there was a row when they got home, he didn’t care. By that time he would have told Ingeborg that they were going to be married, and Oscar could say what he liked.
Ingeborg did not doubt his assurance. She put on her hat and coat, there in the hall.
“I don’t look so very nice,” she said.
“You’ll do,” replied Gunnar.
He could have caught her in his arms that moment, she was so dear and so funny in that hat and coat!
“When we get married,” he thought, “I’ll buy new clothes for her—stylish clothes. She’s pretty—prettier than any one else.”