“But I can’t do that! I can’t strike the bread out of other folks’ hands.”
“Then your whole future is at stake. Think a moment, man! I am sorry for you, for you might have done something here; but I can’t save you from the results of your own obstinacy. We require absolute obedience here.”
The engineer stood waiting for his answer, but Pelle had nothing to say.
“Now, I’ll go so far as to give you till to-morrow to think over it— although that’s against the rules of the factory. Now think it over well, and don’t hang on to this stupid sentimentality of yours. The first thing is to stand by those you belong to, through thick and thin. Well, till to-morrow.”
Pelle went. He did not want to go home before the usual time, only to be met with a string of unseasonable questions. They would come soon enough in any case. So he strolled through the mercantile quarter and gazed at the shipping. Well, now his dream of success was shattered—and it had been a short one. He could see Ellen’s look of disappointment, and an utter mental depression came over him. He was chiefly sorry for her; as for him, there was nothing to be said—it was fate! It never occurred to him for a moment to choose between his comrades and the future; he had quite forgotten that the engineer had given him time for reflection.
At the usual time he strolled homeward. Ellen welcomed him cheerfully and light-heartedly; she was living in a continual thrill of delight; and it was quite touching to see what trouble she was taking to fit herself for a different stratum of society. Her movements were delightful to watch, and her mouth had assumed an expression which was intended to betoken refinement. It suited her delightfully, and Pelle was always seized by a desire to kiss her lips and so disarrange the expression; but to-day he sat down to his supper in silence. Ellen was accustomed to put aside his share of the midday dinner, and to warm it up for him when he came home in the evening; at midday he ate bread-and- butter in the office.
“When we have once got properly settled we’ll all have dinner at six o’clock; that is much more comfortable.”
“That’s what the fine folks do, I’ve been told,” said Lasse. “That will be pleasant, to give it a try.”
Lasse was sitting with Young Lasse on his knee, telling him funny stories. Little Lasse laughed, and every time he laughed his sister screeched with delight in her cradle, as though she understood it all. “What is it to be now, then—the story of the old wife? Then you must listen carefully, or your ears won’t grow! Well, then, the old wife.”
“Wife!” said Young Lasse, with the very accent of the old man.