At home at Selambshof Laura sank into ever deeper and deeper reflections. Herman no longer came up the avenue. And Stellan was also away most of the time. Our young lady felt lonely and very bored. Whenever she did get hold of Stellan he only shrugged his shoulders and looked contemptuous. And he always managed to get away without her discovering where he went.
But one fine day when she was sitting on the landing stage, there came a smart, white sailing boat gliding past. At the foresail-sheet sat Herman. But astern Stellan was lounging like a prince, his head against the tiller and his feet up against the gunwale. When he caught sight of Laura on the landing stage he put about so that Herman should not notice her. And Laura was so dumbfounded and furious that she did not call out to them. She roamed about on the shore and felt deserted, cheated of her fun. To crown all she saw Stellan try on an absolutely new, black suit with long trousers which had been sent from town.
“What are you getting a new suit for?”
“I’m giving a dinner,” said Stellan carelessly.
“Where? Here?”
“No! At Herman’s. My birthday’s coming.”
“I suppose I am to come too?”
“No, it’s a men’s dinner, you see, ta-ta!” With that he pushed Laura out of the room. The new suit was the logical result of Stellan’s diplomacy. Hang it all, you can’t very well appear in anything when you have such smart guests.
But Laura threw herself down on her bed and stared at the ceiling. She did not cry—but she wanted to tear her face. “How stupid I have been,” she thought, “goodness, how stupid I have been!”
Next morning she got up early. It was not yet nine o’clock when she came dancing into her guardian’s room at Ekbacken as he sat shaving with deliberate and methodical dignity. She shone like a little sunbeam, and had a bunch of the brightest wild flowers in her hand. Then she ran about for a vase and placed it between the washbasin and the soap dish, so that nobody could mistake the object of her attention.