There he was already in the avenue!
Yes, there was Herman Hermansson coming up, with his schoolcap on the back of his head and swinging a stick. He tried to look quite unconcerned and indifferent. But he did not succeed, because secretly he stole anxious glances on all sides, and even his whistle sounded somehow shy, humble and supplicating.
Laura’s little woman’s heart beat happily and she felt a gay and mischievous wish to play a little with old Hermansson’s tall, fine boy. So she hurried into the kitchen before he had caught sight of her.
There sat Miss Isaksson, the new housekeeper. She was tall, pale, and thin, and she held the coffee grinder in one hand and a fat novel in the other. And she ground and read and nodded her head sadly to herself.
Laura peeped out of the window.
“Do they get married?” she giggled.
“I won’t look at the end,” sighed Miss Isaksson, “but it is a sad book, so they will probably both die.”
Now Herman was on the terrace. He glanced shyly round him and had a guilty look. Laura was enjoying herself and did not hurry. She had a vague feeling of superiority over both Herman and poor, thin Miss Isaksson. At last she was pleased to emerge on the steps with an air of marked indifference and boredom.
Herman jumped up as if someone had commanded “attention!” He certainly did not dare to make any comment on Laura’s having put her hair up, for that only increased his shyness and diffidence.
“Will you come fishing with me for a bit, Laura?”