“Take the lass with you,” said Stolpe. “You go the same way, don’t you, Ellen? Then you’ll have company. There’s no danger going with her, for she’s a saint.” It sounded as though he wanted to make up for his scolding. “Come again soon; you will always be welcome here.”
They did not speak much on the way home. Pelle was embarrassed, and he had a feeling that she was considering him and thinking him over as they walked, wondering what sort of a fellow he might be. When he ventured to say something, she answered briefly and looked at him searchingly. And yet he found it was an interesting walk. He would gladly have prolonged it.
“Many thanks for your company,” he said, when they stood at her house- door. “I should be very glad to see you again.”
“You will if we meet,” she said taciturnly; but she gave him her hand for a moment.
“We are sure to meet again! Be sure of that!” cried Pelle jovially. “But you are forgetting to reward me for my escort?” He bent over her.
She gazed at him in astonishment—with eyes that were turning him to stone, he thought. Then she slowly turned and went indoors.
X
One day, after his working hours, Pelle was taking some freshly completed work to the Court shoemaker’s. The foreman took it and paid for it, and proceeded to give out work to the others, leaving Pelle standing. Pelle waited impatiently, but did no more than clear his throat now and again. This was the way of these people; one had to put up with it if one wanted work. “Have you forgotten me?” he said at last, a little impatiently.
“You can go,” said the foreman. “You’ve finished here.”
“What does that mean?” asked Pelle, startled.