"Did you say she looks frightened, sir?" asked Peder.
"Yes. When does she not? Some ghost from the grave has scared her, I suppose. It is her great fault that she has so little faith. I never met with such a case; I hardly know how to conduct it. I must begin with the people about her—abolish their superstitions—and then there may be a chance for her."
"Pray, sir, who plays the violin at this moment?" said Peder.
"A fellow who looks as if he did not like this business. He is frowning with his red brows, as if he would frown out the lights."
"His red brows! Oh, then it is Hund. I was thinking it would be hard upon him, poor fellow, if he had to play to-night. Yet not so hard as if he had to dance. It is weary work dancing with the heels when the heart is too heavy to move. You may have heard, sir, for every one knows it, that Hund wanted to have young Rolf's place; and, some say, Erica herself. Is she dancing, sir, if I may ask?"
"Yes, with Rolf. What sort of a man is Rolf—with regard to these superstitions, I mean? Is he as foolish as Erica—always frightened about something?"
"No, indeed. It is to be wished that Rolf was not so light as he is, so inconsiderate about these matters. Rolf has his troubles and his faults, but they are not of that kind."
"Enough," said M. Kollsen with a voice of authority. "I rejoice to hear that he is superior to the popular delusions. As to his troubles and his faults, they may be left for me to discover, all in good time."
"With all my heart, sir. They are nobody's business but his own; and, may be, Erica's."
"How goes it, Rolf?" said his master, who, having done his duty in the dancing-room, was now making his way to the card-tables, in another apartment, to see how his guests there were entertained. Thinking that Rolf looked very absent as he stood, in the pause of the dance, in silence by Erica's side, Erlingsen clapped him on the shoulder and said, "How goes it? Make your friends merry."