Half an hour afterwards Hede came in; the tea was on the table, and the chandelier was lighted. He had dressed; every trace of the peasant had disappeared. Ingrid and her ladyship pressed each other's hands.
They had been sitting trying to imagine how he would look when he came in. It was impossible to say what he might say or do, said her ladyship. One never had known what he might do. But in any case they would both be quite calm. A feeling of great happiness had come over her, and that had quieted her. She was resting, free from all sorrow, in the arms of angels carrying her upwards, upwards.
But when Hede came in, there was no sign of confusion about him.
'I have only come to tell you,' he said, 'that I have got such a headache, that I shall have to go to bed at once. I felt it already when I was on the ice.'
Her ladyship made no reply. Everything was so simple; she had never thought it would be like that. It took her a few moments to realize that he did not know anything about his illness, that he was living somewhere in the past.
'But perhaps I can first drink a cup of tea,' he said, looking a little surprised at their silence.
Her ladyship went to the tea-tray. He looked at her.
'Have you been crying, mother? You are so quiet.'
'We have been sitting talking about a sad story, I and my young friend here,' said her ladyship, pointing to Ingrid.
'I beg your pardon,' he said. 'I did not see you had visitors.'