A thought came suddenly, like a meteor in the dark:  advertise.  What family in Copenhagen did not the Address Paper reach?  He would put in an advertisement,—­but how?  “Fritz Bagger is not married.”—­No:  that was too plain.—­“F.  B. is not married.”—­No:  that was not plain enough.  As he could find no successful use for his own name, it flashed into his mind to use hers,—­geb—­; and although it was painful to him to publish this, to him, almost sacred syllable for profane eyes to gaze upon, yet it comforted him, that only one, she herself, would understand it.  Yet he hesitated.  But one cannot make an omelet without breaking eggs; and although the heart’s finest fibres ache at the thought of sending a message to a fairy through the Address Paper, yet one yields to this rather than lose the fairy.

At last, after numerous efforts he stopped at this:  “—­geb—!  It is a mistake:  he waits only for—­geb—.”  It appeared to him to contain the approach to a happy result, and tired out by emotion he fell asleep on his sofa.

Some days after came a new letter with the dear handwriting:  its contents were: 

“Well! appear eight days from to-day at Mrs. Canuteson’s, to congratulate her upon her birthday.”

This was sunshine after thunder; this was hope’s rainbow which arched itself up to heaven from the earth, yet wet with tears.

“And so she belongs to good society,” said the Counsellor of Justice, without noticing how by these words he discovered to himself that a doubt or suspicion had lain until now behind his ecstasy.  “But,” he added, “consequently, it is my own friends who have spread the rumor of my marriage.  Friends indeed!  A wife is a man’s only friend.  It is hard, suicidal, to remain a bachelor.”

On the appointed day he went too early.  Mrs. Canuteson was yet alone.  She was surprised at his congratulatory visit; but, however, as it was a courtesy, the surprise was mingled with delight, and Bagger was not the man whose visit a lady would not receive with pleasure.  With that ingenuity of wit one can sometimes have, just when the heart is full and taken possession of, he did wonders, and entertained the lady in so lively a manner that she did not perceive how long a time he was passing with her.  As the door at length opened, the lady exclaimed: 

“Oh, that is charming!  Heartily welcome!  Thank you for last time, [Footnote:  In Sweden and Norway when the guest meets the host or hostess for the first time after an entertainment, the first greeting on the part of the former is always, “Thank you for the last time.”] and for all the good in your house!  How does your mother do?  This amiable young lady’s acquaintance I made last summer when we were in the country, and at last she is so good as to keep her promise and visit me.  Counsellor Bagger—­Miss Hjelm.”