THE PLAN
Greta and her mother sat together in one of the downstairs sitting rooms. A fire burned in a fine old porcelain stove. Bright-colored, woven mats covered the wooden floor, which shone with a good scrubbing. Morning light filtered through the high windows.
Fru Hansson's white brows were drawn together in worried lines. She was deeply troubled. For though Fru Hansson lived in a castle, she was really poor. She was finding it more and more difficult to run her large estate.
Many of her neighbors had been forced to give up their lands because they could not afford to keep them. But Fru Hansson could not bear to think of giving up Hanssonborg.
That was why she hoped Baron Karl would ask Greta to marry him. Baron Karl was wealthy, and his money could save Hanssonborg.
It was not so much for her sake that she wished to keep it as for the sake of the tenants who lived on the land. They depended upon it for their living.
Greta was gazing out of the window. The oak trees in the courtyard were covered with snow. Their bare, black arms stuck out like chopsticks in a bowl of rice.
A knock sounded on the door. Fru Hansson said, "Come in," and the Baron came in. He wore heavy, warm clothing and had a muffler wrapped about his throat. He looked peevish.
"Good morning," said Fru Hansson. "I hope Baron Karl rested well."
The Baron frowned. "I did not rest at all," he replied. "Is breakfast ready?"