“No, thank you,” she said. “But we might use it to practise on.”
“I’ll make you a present of it.”
But at that she tossed her head, and said:
“Thank you; I’d rather be excused.”
The wily Rolandsen had touched her there. And then all at once he forgot every thought of paying her out, and murmured:
“I only meant to give you the only thing I had.”
And with that he raised his hat and bowed deeply, and walked away.
He walked away to the parish clerk’s in search of Olga. The spring was come, and Rolandsen must have a lady-love; ’twas no light thing to rule such a big heart. But apart from that he was paying attention to Olga with a purpose. There was some talk about Frederik Mack, how he had an eye to Olga himself. And Rolandsen meant to cut him out, no less. Frederik was brother to Elise herself, and it would do the family good if one of them were jilted. But anyhow, Olga was attractive enough in herself. Rolandsen had seen her grow up from a slip of a child; there was little money to spare in the home, and she had to wear her clothes as far as they would go before getting new things; but she was a bright, pretty girl, and her shyness was charming.