Lena, who saw that Balafré was referred to, asked a question or two, and also asked once more why the men had those peculiar names? She had already asked about it, but had never learned anything worth speaking of.
"Good Lord," said the Queen, "there would have to be something like that and no one should take any notice; and any way it is all put on. For in the first place no one concerns himself about it, and even if anyone did, why, it is so all the same. And why not? What harm does it do? They have nothing to cast up at one another, and each one is just like the rest."
Lena looked straight before her and kept silence.
"And really, child, you will find it out for yourself, really all this is simply tiresome. For a while it goes well enough, and I have nothing to say against it, and I will not deny it myself. But time brings weariness. Ever since you are fifteen and not even confirmed. Truly, the sooner one gets out of all this the better. Then I shall buy me a distillery (for I get plenty of money), and I already know where; and then I shall marry a widower and I already know whom. And he is willing too. For I must tell you I like order and propriety and bringing up children decently, and whether they are his or mine, it is all the same to me.... And how is it really with you?"
Lena did not say a word.
"Heavens, child, you are changing color; perhaps something in here (she pointed to her heart) is involved and you are doing everything for the sake of love? Ah, child, that is bad, then there is sure to be some sudden smash."
Johanna followed with Margot. They purposely kept at some little distance and plucked twigs of birch, as if they meant to make a wreath of them. "How do you like her?" said Margot. "I mean Gaston's ..."
"Like her? Not at all. The very idea that such girls should take a hand in the game and come to be the fashion! Just see how her gloves fit. And her hat doesn't amount to much. He ought not to let her go like that. And she must be stupid too, for she has not a word to say."
"No," said Margot, "she isn't stupid; it is only that she has not struck her gait yet. And it is rather clever in her to make up to our stout friend so promptly."
"Oh, our stout friend. Get out with her. She thinks she is the whole show. But she is nothing at all. I don't believe in backbiting, but she is false, false as the wood of the gallows."