“I must really, gentlemen,” said Mrs. Garman, “beg you to excuse my daughter.  Rachel’s conduct is sometimes so very extraordinary; in fact, I don’t understand it at all.”

“The behaviour of youth, my dear Mrs. Garman,” said the dean, blandly, “is undoubtedly somewhat strange in these days; but we ought to consider how times have changed.”  And the pressure of his soft persuasive hand was so soothing, that when they were gone, Mrs. Garman felt almost as much edified as if she had been listening to a sermon.

That the dean, in the course of three or four days, had been able to bring about this entire change in the inspector, was for Martens a new source of wonder and admiration; and every one could not but feel greatly relieved when they saw the two going about and paying their visits together.

The whole of that memorable Sunday Johnsen had spent in pacing up and down his room, repeating to himself different parts of his sermon.  Some of his thoughts he had managed to express clearly enough, while others might have been a little more incisive; but on the whole he was satisfied.  He was not satisfied in the sense that he thought he had accomplished a great work, but he was so far satisfied that he now felt that he had room to breathe.  Wind in one’s sails, even if it is a storm, is preferable to a dead calm.  What emotions he must have stirred in many a careless soul!  How many of his hearers might not now be struggling with the mighty thoughts which he had thrown amongst them?  In the mean time he looked out upon the street, and he felt almost inclined to wonder that the town showed its usual Sunday calm.  In the afternoon he expected the dean; he felt certain he would come, and he had a speech ready with which to receive him.  Give way he would not, rather resign his position; and besides, he knew of one who had promised him her friendship, if all others should turn their backs on him.  And now as the day went on, and the shadows of evening began to fall, and no dean appeared, she came more and more into the foreground of his thoughts.  He imagined her by his side, battling with him against the whole world, and full of hope and courage he laid down to rest.

When he awoke the next morning, he heard the wind whistling, and the rain pattering on the window-panes.  Empty drays were driving at a trot down the street under his windows, and the busy Monday was again alive, on that dingy autumn morning.  He had to be in the school before eight o’clock, and begin the work of the day with a prayer and a hymn.  Yesterday his ordinary duties had scarcely entered his thoughts; but when the faint odour of the children’s clothes as they came wet to school, their inharmonious singing, and that flagging indifference with which the school week opens after Saturday and Sunday’s holiday, rose in his imagination, his everyday work appeared more than he could bear.