As she never for a moment imagined that he could think her deep love for him could be in any way affected by the slight surface interest which her new acquaintances afforded her, she looked upon his jealousy of them, of which she had had indications often enough before, as a weakness merely to which he ought to have been superior; and as he said nothing himself on the subject, she also let it pass without comment on her side, but determined at the same time that she would see less of them in future, at all events while he was at home.
It happened however, unluckily, some weeks afterwards, that she had just been talking to some of them when he returned from an expedition to Notterö to hire a crew for his next voyage to Amsterdam, on which she was to accompany him. "Herr Jurgensen and his wife," she said, "had just passed, and she had been talking to them; they were to start for Frederiksvoern on the following day."
"And fancy!" she went on with animation, "Fru Jurgensen knows Marie
Forstberg. So I asked her to remember me to her."
"Marie Forstberg?—who is she?" asked Salvé.
"She who was so kind to me,"—she stopped here, and the colour came and went in her face as she continued—"it was she who married—Beck's son—the lieutenant."
"You ought to have asked Fru Jurgensen to remember me to Beck then at the same time," he said, cuttingly, and went past her into the house without looking her in the face.
Elizabeth followed him, feeling very uncomfortable, and after standing for a moment in indecision, went over to him, and sitting down on his knee, put her arm round his neck, saying—
"You are not angry with me, are you? I didn't think you would mind, or I wouldn't have done it."
"Oh! it's quite immaterial to me, of course, who you send your love to."
"She was my best friend when I was—in Arendal," Elizabeth said, avoiding the mention of Beck's name again.