Dry Fish and Wet Part 37

Prois gave a furious glance at Nachmann, and struggled desperately with some sort of cake with currants in, and these he managed to spit out on the sly, hiding them in his waistcoat pocket.

At last the toddy and the cards appeared. Mrs. Rantzau sat close at hand, working at her embroidery, a large piece of canvas with a design representing Diana in the act of throwing a big spear at a retreating lion.

Nachmann, the only one who had retained his self-possession, was master of the situation.

"Now, what's that supposed to be, may I ask?"

"Oh, you can see, Mr. Nachmann. I'm sure it's plain enough."

"Well, now, honestly, my dear lady, I should say that Diana there is the very image of your charming self, and the terrified animal in the corner looks remarkably like our host. I do hope you'll be careful with that spear!"

Mrs. Rantzau was plainly offended, and gave him a sharp glance of reproof from her dark eyes.

"Ah, now you're angry, I can see. But really it was quite innocently meant."

Mrs. Rantzau rose and left the room hastily. There was an awkward pause, until Thor Smith took up the cards and began to shuffle.

"Water isn't hot," muttered Old Nick, clasping both hands about the jug.

"Only wait a little, old boy, and you'll find it hot enough, or I'm much mistaken. Ah, well, such is life without a wife.... Here, I say, where's your head to-night, Nickelsen. Bless my soul, if you haven't given them the game!"

Old Nick complained of headache that evening, and the party broke up earlier than usual. So early, indeed, that Thor Smith had scarcely finished his first gla.s.s, or the first cataract, as he called it, whereas ordinarily the third would be reached and pa.s.sed in the course of the evening's play.

The three friends walked home together, all very serious, and greatly troubled in mind as to Old Nick's future.

Prois in particular took a most gloomy view. "It's a dangerous age for that sort of thing; comes on suddenly, before you know where you are." He was thinking of his own experiences in that direction; it was only four years since he had been wild to marry that young governess at the Abrahamsens', the disaster, however, being fortunately averted by the intervention of Pedersen, the telegraphist, who cut in and won her before he, Prois, had screwed himself up to the question.

Old Nick hardly knew the place again when he came down to breakfast next morning, to find Mrs. Rantzau presiding at table in a pink morning-gown and dainty shoes. The walls were decorated with Chinese paper fans in flowery designs, and j.a.panese parasols; the sofas had been moved out at all angles about the room. A big palm waved above his writing-table, and all the papers on it were neatly arranged in two piles of equal size, one on either hand.

At sight of this his blood began to boil; his writing-table was sacred; no human hand but his own had touched it for the past forty years. Old Marthe herself, when dusting the room, had been as shy of coming near it as if it had been a red-hot stove. Nevertheless, Old Nick found himself unable to say a word; Mrs. Rantzau's smile and her dark eyes threw him into utter confusion.

One day, happening to come in for some papers, he found her in the act of taking the doc.u.ments of a case pending--"Strandvik Postal Authorities _v._ Holmestrand Town Council"--to clean the lamps with.

But here he was obliged to put his foot down and protest. If he could not trust his papers to be left in safety on his table, why, he might as well move out of the house.

Mrs. Rantzau looked at him with great imploring eyes, and was so contrite; he must forgive her, she was so dreadfully stupid; she had no idea that papers could be so important.

Old Nick could not help smiling, and peace was restored, on condition that for the future only newspapers should be used for cleaning purposes. This naturally led to Old Nick's finding the one particular journal he wanted to read after dinner had been sacrificed.

She was undeniably handsome, however, especially in that pink morning-gown as she sat at the breakfast-table, while Old Nick revived his early memories and endeavoured to play the youthful cavalier.

Friends of the house were soon thoroughly convinced that Old Nick was done for; the widow had captivated him beyond recall. Thor Smith, thinking a warning might yet be in time, sent him anonymously the following lines:

"Be careful of taking a widow to wife, She'll lighten your purse and burden your life."

Nickelsen, however, recognised the writing, and promptly sent back a reply:

"Best thanks for your advice, my friend, 'Twas really kind of you to send; But still, considering whence it came, I can manage without it all the same.

So keep your triplets, one--two--three, A widow without is enough for me!"

A grand ball was to be held at the Town Hall, in aid of the Fund for National Defence. Old Nick had no intention of going himself, but Mrs. Rantzau pointed out that it was his duty, as a loyal and patriotic citizen, to attend. Accordingly, albeit not without considerable hesitation, he decided to go. She tied his dress-bow for him, and put a red rosebud with a tip of fern in his b.u.t.tonhole. She herself, with Old Nick in attendance, sailed into the ballroom like a queen, with pearls in her hair, and her dark blue silk dress fitting like the corslet of a Valkyrie.

The company made way for her involuntarily, and she was placed at the upper end of the hall, between Mrs. Jansen and Mrs. Heidt. The last named lady, who was ceremonious and reserved by nature, besides being conscious of representing the aristocracy of the town, was chilliness itself towards this newly risen star. Mrs. Jansen, on the other hand, a kindly soul, felt obliged to show her some little attention, and introduced her to a number of those present.

Dr. Stromberg, a middle-aged bachelor, had the reputation of falling in love with every new specimen of the fair s.e.x he encountered. True to his character, he at once attached himself to Mrs. Rantzau, whose conquest of Strandvik was thus begun.

Old Nick sat in a corner talking to Winter, the Customs Officer, his eyes incessantly following the blue silk gown as it pa.s.sed. His old heart was so restless and unruly, he began to wonder seriously if something had gone wrong with the internal mechanism. Cards, drinks, old friends, all were forgotten that evening he had no thought but for that figure in the blue silk dress that was ever before his eyes.

He had experienced hallucinations before, when things seemed to dance round and round, but to-night, with nothing stronger than soda water--neat--it was past all comprehension.

In a circle of men, old and young, stood Emilie Rantzau, smiling and alert. She was sought after at every dance, until Mrs. Thor Smith, nee Tulla Prois, observed indignantly that one might think the men had never seen a woman from another town before--and Heaven only knew what sort of a creature this one was. Mrs. Jansen herself began to be rather uneasy, when she saw her husband lead out the widow as his partner for the lancers--or "lunchers" as Cilia Braaten called it.

And matters were not improved when the Consul started talking French with Mrs. Rantzau at supper, of which his wife did not understand a word.

"She's charming, my dear, a most interesting woman, and speaks French like an educated Parisienne," said Jansen to his wife.

Poor Mrs. Jansen was beginning to experience the pangs of jealousy, and determined to purchase a _French made Easy_ the very next day.

"Bless my soul, if there isn't Justice Heidt asking the angelic widow for a dance," exclaimed Thor Smith, pulling Nachmann by the sleeve.

"Angelic widow's good," said Nachmann. "But there's angels and angels, you know. And they'd have to be a bit on the dusky side to pair off with Old Nick, what?"

Mrs. Heidt got up and went into an adjoining room, sending her husband a glance as she pa.s.sed which sobered him considerably for the moment. It was not long, however, before the brilliant dark eyes had made him forget both his dignity and his domestic obligations.

Old Nick was very taciturn that evening as he walked home with Mrs.

Rantzau. She, however, laughed and joked, and told stories of "all those silly old men" with such wit and good humour that he was forced to admit it would have been a pity not to have gone to the ball.

"Yes, a very jolly evening; very nice indeed, yes."

On the following day the "angelic widow" and her conquests at the ball were the general topic of conversation. The ladies, old and young, married and the reverse, agreed that she was detestable, and were sure there must be something "queer" about her. Mrs. Heidt and Mrs. Knap had a two hours' consultation together, at the end of which it was decided that no effort should be spared to check "that woman's" further encroachment upon local society.

All the men, with exception of Thor Smith and Nachmann, were enthusiastic in praise of the new arrival, and her popularity on that side was a.s.sured.

Emilie Rantzau, however, had her own plans, and let people talk as they pleased.

One day she astonished Mrs. Jansen by calling on her with a proposal that the ladies of the town should get up a bazaar in aid of the Seamen's Families Relief Fund. On another occasion she went to Mrs.

Heidt, and begged her to support the National Women's Movement; she also invited Governor Abrahamsen to help start a society for helping ex-convicts to turn over a new leaf. Even Klementsen was urged to help her in getting up a subscription for a new altar-piece.

In addition to these more or less philanthropic movements, she arranged excursions to the country round, the beauties of which, she declared, were not appreciated as they should be, and further, obtained the a.s.sistance of Consul Jansen in forming a Society for the Furtherance of the Tourist Traffic in Strandvik and Neighbourhood.

The Consul was delighted with the idea, and vowed he must have been blind not to have discovered earlier the natural beauties of the neighbourhood. He gave a grand champagne supper and proposed Mrs.

Rantzau's health in a speech, concluding by comparing that lady to "a breath of ocean fresh and free." The toast was received with acclamation.

Altogether, the upper circles of Strandvik society were thrown into a state of unprecedented excitement and activity.

Mrs. Heidt, Mrs. Knap and Mrs. Abrahamsen vied with one another in their efforts to outdo Mrs. Rantzau; they would show her at least that they were as good as she.

It was a fight to the bitter end.

Societies were started, with "evenings" after, where Emilie Rantzau's plans were discussed.

Mrs. Heidt thought and thought till she grew giddy and had to have hot fomentations of an evening; the unusual mental effort had brought on insomnia. Sukkerstad hoped to find in Mrs. Rantzau an ally to the cause of temperance, and paid her a ceremonial call, in company with Watchmaker Rordam, who, a short while back, had suddenly joined the Temperance a.s.sociation, "Strandvik's Pride." And the pair of them explained to her, with all the eloquence at their command, how greatly her patronage would be appreciated by all.