That was probably the correct thing to do, for a northern bride should not be too vivacious. But there seemed to be in her nature a certain dignity, which would be a good thing in a home no doubt, but which seemed out of place here between roast and cordial.
“One certainly could not call her too affectionate,” Björn said afterward, when describing the occasion.
He sat alone and she sat alone. She ate very little; he ate enough for two. The ship’s-joiner made one speech after another, the sun shone down on the brick wall, and Björn leaned over on Stine and looked up out of the window.
Stine pulled her veil aside, smoothed her dress, and asked: “What are you looking at?”
“Fine opportunity that,” said Björn. Her eyes followed his.
“You mean that fourth story to let up there? Yes, I would rather like to live there. Then one would not have to be on the water so much.”
“A fine opportunity to sail home, I mean,” explained Björn. “The wind is strong from the south.”
Stine glanced at him uneasily, and then at the innkeeper.
“A stiff south breeze,” continued Björn. “It has been a north wind for some time, and will be to-night again. We don’t have a chance like this every day.”
At a glance from Stine the innkeeper proposed a “good, old-time Danish cheer” for Björn, in the attempt to change the train of his thoughts, and the ship’s-joiner made his fifth speech.