“I think you’re on the right tack, Pelle,” answered Morten seriously. “But let the young ones light the fire underneath, and it’ll go all the quicker. That new eventualities crop up in this country is no disadvantage; the governing body may very well be made aware that there’s gunpowder under their seats. It’ll immensely strengthen their sense of responsibility! Would you like to see Johanna? She’s been wanting very much to see you. She’s ill again unfortunately.”
“Ellen sent me out to propose that she should come to stay with us in the country. She thinks the child must be a great trouble to you and cannot be properly looked after here either.”
“It’s very kind of your wife to think of it, but hasn’t she enough to do already?”
“Oh, Ellen can manage a great deal,” said Pelle heartily. “You would be giving her a pleasure.”
“Then I’ll say ‘Thank you’ for the offer,” exclaimed Morten. “It’ll be a great relief to me, if only she can stand the moving. It isn’t that she gives me any trouble now, for we get on capitally together. Johanna is good and manageable, really a splendid character in spite of her spoiling. You won’t have any difficulty with her. And I think it’ll be good for her to be away from me here, and be somewhere where there’s a woman to see to her—and children. She doesn’t get much attention here.”
They went in to her and found her asleep, her pale face covered with large drops of moisture. “It’s exhaustion,” whispered Morten. “She’s not got much strength yet.” Their presence made her sleep disturbed, and she tossed from side to side and then, suddenly opening her eyes, gazed about her with an expression of wild terror. In a moment she recognized them and smiled; and raising herself a little she held out both her hands to Pelle with a charming expression of childish coquetry.
“Tell me about the house out there and Boy Comfort,” she said, making room for him on the edge of the bed. “It’s so tiresome here, and Mr. Morten’s so serious.” And she threw a glance of defiance at him.
“Is he?” said Pelle. “That must be because he writes books.”
“No, but I must keep up a little dignity,” said Morten, assuming a funny, schoolmasterish expression. “This young lady’s beginning to be saucy!”
Johanna lay and laughed to herself, her eyes travelling from one to the other of them. “He ought to have a pair of spectacles, and then he’d be like a real one,” she said. She spoke hardly above a whisper, it was all she had strength for; but her voice was mischievous.