“Hund!” repeated Erica, glancing around the room for Hund, and not seeing him till her lover reminded her that Hund was the musician. “Hund does seem dull enough to be sure,” said she, smiling; “I hope I do not often look like that.”
“I am more sorry for him than you are, I see,” said Rolf, brightening when he found how entirely Hund had been absent from her thoughts. “I am more sorry for Hund than you are: and with good reason, for I know what the happiness is that he has missed, poor fellow! But yet I think you might feel a little more for him. It would show that you know how to value love.”
“Indeed I am very sorry for him; but more for his disappointment about the house than any other. To-day once over, he will soon fix his love on somebody else. Perhaps we shall be dancing on his betrothment-day before the year is out.”
“Then I hope his girl will look merrier than you do to-night,” muttered Rolf, with a sigh. “O, Erica! I wish you would trust me. I could take care of you, and make you quite happy, if you would only believe it. Ah! I know what that look means. I know you love me, and all that; but you are always tormenting yourself—”
“I think I know one who is cleverer still at tormenting himself,” said Erica, with a smile. “Come, Rolf, no more tormenting of ourselves or one another! No more of that after to-day! What is to-day worth, if it is not to put an end to all doubts of one another?”
“But where is the use of that, if you still will not believe that I can keep off all trouble from you—that nothing in the universe shall touch you to your hurt, while—”
“O, hush! hush!” said Erica, turning pale and red at the presumption of this speech. “See, they are waiting for us. One more round before supper.”
And in the whirl of the waltz she tried to forget the last words Rolf had spoken; but they rang in her ears; and before her eyes were images of Nipen overhearing this defiance,—and the Water-sprite planning vengeance in its palace under the ice,—and the Mountain-Demon laughing in scorn, till the echoes shouted again,—and the Wood-Demon waiting only for summer to see how he could beguile the rash lover. Erica finished her dance; but when the company and the men of the household were seated at the supper-table, and she had to help her mistress and the young ladies to wait upon them, she trembled so that she could scarcely stand. It was so very wrong of Rolf to be always defying the spirits!
Long was the supper, and hearty was the mirth round the table. People in Norway have universally a hearty appetite,—such an appetite as we English have no idea of. Whether it is owing to the sharp climate, or to the active life led by all,—whatever may be the cause, such is the fact. This night, piles of fish disappeared first; and then joint after joint of reindeer venison. The fine game of the country was handed round, cut up; and little but the bones was left of a score of birds. Then there were preserved fruits, and berries, eaten with thick cream;—almost every dish that could be thought of made of the rich cream of the north. Erica recovered herself as the great business went on, and while her proud lover watched her, forgetting his supper, he thought to himself that no one of the fair attendants trod so lightly as Erica—no one carved so neatly—no one handed the dishes so gracefully, or was so quick at seeing to whom the most respect and attention were owing. Perhaps this last thought was suggested by Rolf’s perceiving that, either by her own hand or another’s, the hottest dishes and the nicest bits were found, all supper-time, close to his elbow. Madame Erlingsen, he decided, with all her experience, did not do the duties of the table so well; and the young ladies, kind and good-tempered as they were, would never, by any experience, become so graceful as Erica.
At last appeared the final dish of the long feast—the sweet cake, with which dinner and supper in Norway usually conclude. While this was sliced and handed round, Rolf observed that Erica looked anxiously towards him. He took no notice, hoping that she would come and speak to him, and that he should thus be the gainer of a few of her sweet words. She did come, and just said,