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And, moreover, it was Sunday. Sunday? That was it! Well, they would go for a walk. They had a lot to talk about. Of course, they had a lot to say to each other. But Ottilia was not to come with them!
They went out together, arm in arm. But they did not talk much; and what they said were words uttered for the sake of concealing their thoughts more than for the sake of exchanging ideas.
They pa.s.sed the little cholera cemetery and took the road leading to the Swiss Valley. A faint breeze rustled through the pine trees and glimpses of the blue sea flashed through the dark branches.
They sat down on a stone. He threw himself on the turf at her feet.
Now the storm is going to burst, he thought, and it did.
"Have you thought at all about our marriage?" she began.
"No," he replied, with every appearance of having fully considered the matter, "I have merely felt about it. In my opinion love is a matter of sentiment; one steers by landmarks and makes port; take compa.s.s and chart and you are sure to founder."
"Yes, but our home has been nothing but a doll's house."
"Excuse me, but this is not quite true. You have never forged a bill; you have never shown your ankles to a syphilitic doctor of whom you wanted to borrow money against security _in natura_; you have never been so romantically silly as to expect your husband to give himself up for a crime which his wife had committed from ignorance, and which was not a crime because there was no plaintiff; and you have never lied to me. I have treated you every bit as honestly as Helmer treated his wife when he took her into his full confidence and allowed her to have a voice in the banking business; tolerated her interference with the appointment of an employee. We have therefore been husband and wife according to all conceptions, old and new-fas.h.i.+oned."
"Yes, but I have been your housekeeper!"
"Pardon me, you are wrong. You have never had a meal in the kitchen, you have never received wages, you have never had to account for money spent. I have never scolded you because one thing or the other was not to my liking. And do you consider my work: to reckon and to brace, to ease off and call out 'Present arms,' count herrings and measure rum, weigh peas and examine flour, more honourable than yours: to look after the servants, cater for the house and bring up the children?"
"No, but you are paid for your work! You are your own master! You are a man!"
"My dear child, do you want me to give you wages? Do you want to be my housekeeper in real earnest? That I was born a man is an accident. I might almost say a pity, for it's very nearly a crime to be a man now-a-days, but it isn't my fault. The devil take him who has stirred up the two halves of humanity, one against the other! He has much to answer for. Am I the master? Don't we both rule? Have I ever decided any important matter without asking for your advice? What? But you--you bring up the children exactly as you like! Don't you remember that I wanted you to stop rocking them to sleep because I said it produced a sort of intoxication? But you had your own way! Another time I had mine, and then it was your turn again. There was no compromise possible, because there was no middle course to steer between rocking and not rocking. We got on very well until now. But you have thrown me over for Ottilia's sake!"
"Ottilia! always Ottilia! Didn't you yourself send her to me?"
"No, not her personally! But there can be no doubt that it is she who rules now."
"You want to separate me from all I care for!"
"Is Ottilia all you care for? It almost looks like it!"
"But I can't send her away now that I have engaged her to teach the girls pedagogics and Latin."
"Latin! Great Scott! Are the girls to be ruined?"
"They are to know everything a man knows, so that when the time comes, their marriage will be a true marriage."
"But, my love, all husbands don't know Latin! I don't know more than one single word, and that is 'ablative.' And we have been happy in spite of it. Moreover, there is a movement to strike off Latin from the plan of instruction for boys, as a superfluous accomplishment.
Doesn't this teach you a lot? Isn't it enough that the men are ruined, are the women to be ruined, too? Ottilia, Ottilia, what have I done to you, that you should treat me like this!"
"Supposing we dropped that matter.--Our love, William, has not been what it should be. It has been sensual!"
"But, my darling, how could we have had children, if it hadn't? And it has not been sensual only."
"Can a thing be both black and white? Tell me that!"
"Of course, it can. There's your sunshade for instance, it is black outside and white inside."
"Sophist!"
"Listen to me, sweetheart, tell me in your own way the thoughts which are in your heart; don't talk like Ottilia's books. Don't let your head run away with you; be yourself again, my sweet, darling little wife."
"Yours, your property, bought with your labour."
"Just as I am your property, your husband, at whom no other woman is allowed to look if she wants to keep her eyes in her head; your husband, who made a present of himself to you, or rather, gave himself to you in exchange. Are we not quits?"
"But we have trifled away our lives! Have we ever had any higher interests, William?"
"Yes, the very highest, Gurli; we have not always been playing, we have had grave hours, too. Have we not called into being generations to come? Have we not both bravely worked and striven for the little ones, who are to grow up into men and women? Have you not faced death four times for their sakes? Have you not robbed yourself of your nights' rest in order to rock their cradle, and of your days'
pleasures, in order to attend to them? Couldn't we now have a large six-roomed flat in the main street, and a footman to open the door, if it were not for the children? Wouldn't you be able to wear silk dresses and pearls? And I, your old Pal, wouldn't have _crows' nests_ in my knees, if it hadn't been for the kiddies. Are we really no better than dolls? Are we as selfish as old maids say? Old maids, rejected by men as no good. Why are so many girls unmarried? They all boast of proposals and yet they pose as martyrs! Higher interests!
Latin! To dress in low neck dresses for charitable purposes and leave the children at home, neglected! I believe that my interests are higher than Ottilia's, when I want strong and healthy children, who will succeed where we have failed. But Latin won't help them! Goodbye, Gurli! I have to go back on board. Are you coming?"
But she remained sitting on the stone and made no answer. He went with heavy footsteps, very heavy footsteps. And the blue sea grew dark and the sun ceased s.h.i.+ning.
"Pal, Pal, where is this to lead to?" he sighed, as he stepped over the fence of the cemetery. "I wish I lay there, with a wooden cross to mark my place, among the roots of the trees. But I am sure I couldn't rest, if I were there without her! Oh! Gurli! Gurli!
"Everything has gone wrong, now, mother," said the captain on a chilly autumn day to his mother-in-law, to whom he was paying a visit.
"What's the matter, w.i.l.l.y, dear?"
"Yesterday they met at our house. On the day before yesterday at the Princess's. Little Alice was suddenly taken ill. It was unfortunate, of course, but I didn't dare to send for Gurli, for fear she might think that it was done on purpose to annoy her! Oh! when once one has lost faith.... I asked a friend at the Admiralty yesterday whether it was legal in Sweden to kill one's wife's friends with tobacco smoke. I was told it wasn't, and that even if it were it was better not to do it, for fear of doing more harm than good. If only it happened to be an admirer! I should take him by the neck and throw him out of the window. What am I to do?"
"It's a difficult matter, w.i.l.l.y, dear, but we shall be able to think of a way out of it. You can't go on living like a bachelor."
"No, of course, I can't."
"I spoke very plainly to her, a day or two ago. I told her that she would lose you if she didn't mend her ways."
"And what did she say?"
"She said you had a right to do as you liked with your body."
"Indeed! And she, too? A fine theory! My hair is fast turning grey, mother!"
"It's a good old scheme to make a wife jealous. It's generally kill or cure, for if there is any love left, it brings it out."
"There is, I know, there is!"
"Of course, there is. Love doesn't die suddenly; it gets used up in the course of the years, perhaps. Have a flirtation with Ottilia, and we shall see!"
"Flirt with Ottilia? With Ottilia?"
"Try it. Aren't you up in any of the subjects which interest her?"
"Well, yes! They are deep in statistics, now. Fallen women, infectious diseases. If I could lead the conversation to mathematics! I am well up in that!"
"There you are! Begin with mathematics--by and by put her shawl round her shoulders and b.u.t.ton her overshoes. Take her home in the evening.
Drink her health and kiss her when Gurli is sure to see it. If necessary, be a little officious. She won't be angry, believe me. And give her a big dose of mathematics, so big that Gurli has no option but to sit and listen to it quietly. Come again in a week's time and tell me the result."