The evening after this explanation took place, Elise was engaged with Jacobi in a lively conversation in the balcony.

“And if,” said Jacobi, “if I endeavor to win her affections, oh, tell me! would her parents, would her mother see it without displeasure?  Ah, speak openly with me; the happiness of my life depends upon it!”

“You have my approval and my good wishes,” answered Elise; “I tell you now what I have often told my husband, that I should very much like to call you my son!”

“Oh!” exclaimed Jacobi, deeply affected, falling on his knees and pressing Elise’s hand to his lips:  “oh, that every act in my life might prove my gratitude, my love—!”

At this moment Louise, who had been looking for her mother, approached the balcony; she saw Jacobi’s action and heard his words.  She withdrew quickly, as if she had been stung by a serpent.

From this time a great change was more and more perceptible in her.  Silent, shy, and very pale, she moved about like a dreaming person in the merry circle at Axelholm, and willingly agreed to her mother’s proposal to shorten her stay at this place.

Jacobi, who was as much astonished as sorry at Louise’s sudden unfriendliness towards him, began to think the place was somehow bewitched, and wished more than once to leave it.

* * * * *

A FAMILY PICTURE

From ‘The Home’

The family is assembled in the library; tea is just finished.  Louise, at the pressing request of Gabrielle and Petrea, lays out the cards in order to tell the sisters their fortune.  The Candidate seats himself beside her, and seems to have made up his mind to be a little more cheerful.  But then “the object” looks more like a cathedral than ever.  The Landed Proprietor enters, bows, blows his nose, and kisses the hand of his “gracious aunt.”

Landed Proprietor—­Very cold this evening; I think we shall have frost.

Elise—­It is a miserable spring; we have just read a melancholy account of the famine in the northern provinces; these years of dearth are truly unfortunate.

Landed Proprietor—­Oh yes, the famine up there.  No, let us talk of something else; that is too gloomy.  I have had my peas covered with straw.  Cousin Louise, are you fond of playing Patience?  I am very fond of it myself; it is so composing.  At Oestanvik I have got very small cards for Patience; I am quite sure you would like them, Cousin Louise.

The Landed Proprietor seats himself on the other side of Louise.  The Candidate is seized with a fit of curious shrugs.

Louise—­This is not Patience, but a little conjuring by means of which I can tell future things.  Shall I tell your fortune, Cousin Thure?

Landed Proprietor—­Oh yes! do tell my fortune; but don’t tell me anything disagreeable.  If I hear anything disagreeable in the evening, I always dream of it at night.  Tell me now from the cards that I shall have a pretty little wife;—­a wife beautiful and amiable as Cousin Louise.