"There is one thing, Christina," said Max, "that I cannot comprehend, and of which I demand an explanation. Your name is 'Christina Jansen,' and yet you appeared in public by the name of 'Christina Carlson.' Now I refuse to marry you until this thing is explained; for I may be arrested and charged with bigamy for marrying two women at once! I am willing to wed 'Christina Jansen'--but what am I to do with 'Christina Carlson'? I could be "happy with either were t'other dear charmer away.'"
Christina laughed and blushed and said:
"If you do not behave yourself you shall not have either of the Christinas. But I will tell you, my dear friend, how that happened. You must know that in our Sweden, especially in the northern part of it, where father and mother came from, we are a very primitive people--far 'behind the age,' you will say. And there we have no family names, like Brown or Jones or Smith; but each man is simply the son of his father, and he takes his father's first name. Thus if 'Peter' has a son and he is christened 'Ole,' then he is 'Ole Peterson,' or Ole the son of Peter; and if his son is called 'John,' then he is 'John Oleson.' I think, from what I have read in the books you gave me, Frank, that the same practice prevailed, centuries ago, in England, and that is how all those English names, such as Johnson, Jackson, Williamson, etc., came about. But the females of the family, in Sweden, are called 'daughters' or 'dotters;' and hence, by the custom of my race, I am 'Christina Carl's Dotter.' And when Mr. Bingham asked me my name to print on his play bills, that is what I answered him; but he said 'Christina Carl's Dotter' was no name at all. It would never do; and so he called me 'Christina Carlson.' There you have the explanation of the whole matter."
"I declare," said Frank, "this thing grows worse and worse! Why, there are three of you. I shall have to wed not only 'Christina Jansen,' and 'Christina Carlson,' but 'Christina Carl's Dotter.' Why, that would be not only bigamy, but trigamy!"
And then Estella came to the rescue, and said that she felt sure that Max would be glad to have her even if there were a dozen of her.
And Frank, who had become riotous, said to me:
"You see, old fellow, you are about to marry a girl with a pedigree, and I another without one."
"No," said Christina, "I deny that charge; with us the very name we bear declares the pedigree. I am 'Christina Carl's Dotter,' and 'Carl' was the son of 'John,' who was the son of 'Frederick,' who was the son of 'Christian;' and so on for a hundred generations. I have a long pedigree; and I am very proud of it; and, what is more, they were all good, honest, virtuous people." And she heightened up a bit. And then Frank kissed her before us all, and she boxed his ears, and then dinner was announced.
And what a pleasant dinner it was: the vegetables, crisp and fresh, were from their own garden; and the butter and milk and cream and schmearkase from their own dairy; and the fruit from their own trees; and the mother told us that the pudding was of Christina's own making; and thereupon Frank ate more of it than was good for him; and everything was so neat and bright, and everybody so happy; and Frank vowed that there never was before such luscious, golden butter; and Mrs. Jansen told us that that was the way they made it in Sweden, and she proceeded to explain the whole process. The only unhappy person at the table, it seemed to me, was poor Carl, and he had a wretched premonition that he was certainly going to drop some of the food on that brand-new broadcloth suit of his. I feel confident that when we took our departure he hurried to take off that overwhelming grandeur, with very much the feeling with which the dying saint shuffles off the mortal coil, and soars to heaven.
But then, in the midst of it all, there came across me the dreadful thought of what was to burst upon the world in a few days; and I could have groaned aloud in anguish of spirit. I felt we were like silly sheep gamboling on the edge of the volcano. But why not? We had not brought the world to this pass. Why should we not enjoy the sunshine, and that glorious light, brighter than all sunshine--the love of woman? For God alone, who made woman--the true woman--knows the infinite capacities for good which he has inclosed within her soul. And I don't believe one bit of that orthodox story. I think Eve ate the apple to obtain knowledge, and Adam devoured the core because he was hungry.