“No; she is not proud,” he said softly to himself; but to make sure he looked at his jacket.
Then the boys were called up. The brothers Erdmann came first. Without asking, they had already placed themselves comfortably on the first seats, and then his own name was called out. At this moment Elsbeth Douglas did exactly as he had done before. She raised her head quickly and scrutinized the ranks of the boys.
When he had seated himself in his place he also looked down on the ground, for he wanted to imitate her humility; and when he looked up again he saw her eyes on him, full of curiosity. He blushed and picked a little feather from the sleeve of his jacket.
And then the lesson began. The vicar explained passages from the Bible and heard verses of hymns. It was Elsbeth’s turn first. She raised her head a little, and repeated her verses quietly and modestly.
“Oh golly! the hussy has courage,” mumbled the younger Erdmann, who was at his left side.
Paul felt sudden anger rise within him. He could have cudgelled him in open church. “If he calls her ‘hussy’ again I shall thrash him afterwards.” He promised this solemnly to himself. But the younger Erdmann no longer thought of her; he was busy sticking pins into the calves of the boys sitting behind him.
When the lesson was over, the girls left the church first, marching in couples. Only when the last were outside, the boys were allowed to follow. Just outside the church he met Elsbeth, who was walking towards her carriage. Both looked a little askance at each other and passed on. An old lady, with little gray curls and a Persian shawl, stood near her carriage; she probably had waited for her at the vicarage. She kissed Elsbeth’s forehead, and both seated themselves on the back seat. The carriage was the finest one in the whole row. The coachman wore a beautiful fur cap with a red tassel; he had also smart braid on his collar and cuffs.
Just as the carriage had started, Paul was attacked by the two Erdmanns, who thrashed him a little.
“You ought to be ashamed, two against one,” he said, and they let him go.
He went home very contentedly. The midday sun glittered on the open heath, and in misty distance the carriage rolled before him; it grew smaller and smaller, and at last disappeared as a black spot in the fir-wood.