Oh, but it was pleasant to find oneself appreciated here in the wilds!
"Why, I'm afraid my hands aren't much good at that sort of work," said
Eleseus delicately.
"Let me look," said Barbro, and took his hand.
Axel dropped out of the conversation again, and went out, leaving the two of them alone. They were of an age, had been to school together, and played and kissed each other and raced about; and now, with a fine disdainful carelessness, they talked of old times—exchanging reminiscences—and Barbro, perhaps, was inclined to show off a little before her companion. True, this Eleseus was not like the really fine young men in offices, that wore glasses and gold watches and so on, but he could pass for a gentleman here in the wilds, there was no denying that. And she took out her photograph now and showed him—that's what she looked like then—"all different now, of course." And Barbro sighed.
"Why, what's the matter with you now?" he asked.
"Don't you think I've changed for the worse since then?"
"Changed for the worse, indeed! Well, I don't mind telling you you're ever so much prettier now," said he, "filled out all round. For the worse? Ho! That's a fine idea!"
"But it's a nice dress, don't you think? Cut open just a bit front and back. And then I had that silver chain you see there, and it cost a heap of money, too; it was a present from one of the young clerks I was with then. But I lost it. Not exactly lost it, you know, but I wanted money to come home."
Eleseus asked: "Can I have the photo to keep?"
"To keep? H'm. What'll you give me for it?"
Oh, Eleseus knew well enough what he wanted to say, but he dared not. "I'll have mine taken when I go back to town," he said instead, "and send it you."