Rapidly one thought
followed
upon another in his mind.
Warner - World's Best Literature - v09 - Dra to Eme
5152 (#324) ###########################################
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MARIA EDGEWORTH
appeared in 1820. Her last novel, (Helen,' published in 1834, shows
no diminution of her charm and grace. With occasional visits to
Paris and London, and a memorable trip to Scotland in 1823, when
she was entertained at Abbotsford, she lived serene and happy at
Edgeworth's-town until her sudden death, May 21st 1849.
Miss Edgeworth was extremely small, not beautiful; but a brilliant
talker and a great favorite in the exclusive society to which she
everywhere had access. Her greatest success was in the new field
opened in her Irish stories, full of racy, rollicking Irish humor, and
valuable pictures of bygone conditions,— for the genial peasant of her
pages is now rarely found. Not the least we owe her is the influ-
ence which her national tales had on Sir Walter Scott, who declared
that her success led him to do the same for his own country in the
Waverley Novels. Miss Edgeworth's style is easy and animated. Her
tales show her extraordinary power of observation, her good sense,
and remarkable skill in dialogue, though they are biased by the
didactic purpose which permeates all her writings. As Madame de
Staël remarked, she was “lost in dreary utility. ” And doubtless this
is why she just missed greatness, and has been consigned to the
ranks of (standard” authors who are respectfully alluded to but sel-
dom read. The lack of tenderness and imagination was perhaps the
result of her unusual self-control, shown in her custom of writing in
the family sitting-room, and so concentrating her mind on her work
that she was deaf to all that went on about her. Surely some of the
creative power of her mind must have been lost in that strenuous
effort. Her noble character, as well as her talents, won for her the
friendship of many distinguished people of her day. With Scott she
was intimate, Byron found her charming and Macaulay was
enthusiastic admirer. In her recently edited letters are found many
interesting and valuable accounts of the people she met in the course
of her long life.
Miss Edgeworth's life has been written by Helen Zimmern and
Grace A. Oliver; her (Life and Letters,' edited by Augustus J. C.
Hare, appeared in 1895. Pen Portraits of Literary Women,' by
Helen Gray Cone and Jeannette L. Gilder, contains a sketch of her.
an
## p. 5153 (#325) ###########################################
MARIA EDGEWORTH
5153
SIR CONDY'S WAKE
From Castle Rackrent)
W**
HEN they were made sensible that Sir Condy was going to
leave Castle Rackrent for good and all, they set up a
whillaluh that could be heard to the farthest end of the
street; and one fine boy he was, that my master had given an
apple to that morning, cried the loudest; but they all were the
same sorry, for Sir Condy was greatly beloved among the child-
her, for letting them go a-nutting in the demesne without saying
a word to them, though my lady objected to them. The people
in the town, who were the most of them standing at their doors,
hearing the childher cry, would know the reason of it; and when
the report was made known the people one and all gathered in
great anger against my son Jason, and terror at the notion of
his coming to be landlord over them, and they cried, “No Jason !
no Jason! Sir Condy! Sir Condy! Sir Condy Rackrent forever! »
and the mob grew so great and so loud I was frightened, and
made my way back to the house to warn my son to make his
escape or hide himself, for fear of the consequences. Jason
would not believe me till they came all round the house and
to the windows with great shouts; then he grew quite pale, and
asked Sir Condy what had he best do? "I'll tell you what you'd
best do,” said Sir Condy, who was laughing to see his fright:
finish your glass first; then let's go to the window and show
ourselves, and I'll tell 'em, or you shall if you please, that I'm
going to the lodge for change of air for my health, and by my
own desire, for the rest of my days. " "Do so,” said Jason who
never meant it should have been so, but could not refuse him
the lodge at this unseasonable time. Accordingly Sir Condy
threw up the sash and explained matters, and thanked all his
friends, and bid 'em look in at the punch-bowl, and observe that
Jason and he had been sitting over it very good friends; so the
mob was content, and he sent 'em out some whisky to drink his
health, and that was the last time his Honor's health was ever
drunk at Castle Rackrent.
The very next day, being too proud, as he said to me, to stay
an hour longer in a house that did not belong to him, he sets
off to the lodge, and I along with him not many hours after.
And there was great bemoaning through all O'Shaughlin's Town,
IX-323
## p. 5154 (#326) ###########################################
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MARIA EDGEWORTH
which I stayed to witness, and gave my poor master a full account
of when I got to the lodge. He was very low and in his bed
when I got there, and complained of a great pain about his
heart; but I guessed it was only trouble, and all the business,
let alone vexation, he had gone through of late; and knowing
the nature of him from a boy, I took my pipe, and while smok-
ing it by the chimney, began telling him how he was beloved
and regretted in the county, and it did him a deal of good to
hear it. “Your Honor has a great many friends yet, that you
don't know of, rich and poor in the country,” says I; "for as I
was coming along the road, I met two gentlemen in their own
carriages, who asked after you, knowing me, and wanted to
know where you was, and all about you, and even how old I
was: think of that! ” Then he wakened out of his doze, and be-
gan questioning me who the gentlemen were. And the next
morning it came into my head to go, unknown to anybody, with
my master's compliments, round to many of the gentlemen's
houses where he and my lady used to visit, and people that I
knew were his great friends, and would go to Cork to serve him
any day in the year, and I made bold to try to borrow a trifle
of cash from them. They all treated me very civil for the most
part, and asked a great many questions very kind about my
lady and Sir Condy and all the family, and were greatly sur-
prised to learn from me Castle Rackrent was sold, and my mas-
ter at the lodge for health; and they all pitied him greatly, and
he had their good wishes, if that would do, but money was a
thing they unfortunately had not any of them at this time to
spare. I had my journey for my pains, and I, not used to walk-
ing, nor supple as formerly, was greatly tired, but had the satis-
faction of telling my master, when I got to the lodge, all the
civil things said by high and low.
« Thady,” says he, "all you've been telling me brings a
strange thought into my head: I've a notion I shall not be long
for this world anyhow, and I've a great fancy to see my own
funeral afore I die. ” I was greatly shocked at the first speak-
ing, to hear him speak so light about his funeral, and he to all
appearances in good health, but recollecting myself answered: -
To be sure it would be as fine a sight as one could see, I
dared to say, and one I should be proud to witness; and I did
not doubt his Honor's would be as great a funeral as ever Sir
Patrick O'Shaughlin's was, and such a as that had never
## p. 5155 (#327) ###########################################
MARIA EDGEWORTH
5155
been known in the county before or since. ” But I never thought
he was in earnest about seeing his own funeral himself, till the
next day he returns to it again. « Thady,” says he, “as far as
the wake goes, sure I might without any great trouble have the
satisfaction of seeing a bit of my own funeral. ” “Well, since
your Honor's Honor's so bent upon it,” says I, not willing to
cross him, and he in trouble, we must see what we can do. "
So he fell into a sort of a sham disorder, which was easy done,
as he kept his bed and no one to see him; and I got my shister,
who was an old woman very handy about the sick, and
very
skillful, to come up to the lodge to nurse him; and we gave out,
she knowing no better, that he was just at his latter end, and it
answered beyond anything; and there was a great throng of peo-
ple, men, women, and children, and there being only two rooms
at the lodge, except what was locked up full of Jason's furniture
and things, the house was soon as full and fuller than it could
hold, and the heat and smoke and noise wonderful great; and
standing among them that were near the bed, but not thinking
at all of the dead, I was startled by the sound of my master's
voice from under the greatcoats that had been thrown all at
top, and I went close up, no one noticing. “Thady,” says he,
"I've had enough of this; I'm smothering, and can't hear a word
of all they're saying of the deceased. ” “God bless you, and lie
still and quiet,” says I, “a bit longer; for my shister's afraid of
ghosts and would die on the spot with fright, was she to see
you come to life all on a sudden this way without the least
preparation. " So he lays him still, though well-nigh stifled, and
I made all haste to tell the secret of the joke, whispering to one
and t’other, and there was a great surprise, but not so great as
we had laid out it would. And aren't we to have the pipes
and tobacco, after coming so far to-night? ” said some; but they
were all well enough pleased when his Honor got up to drink
with them, and sent for more spirits from a shebean-house,
where they very civilly let him have it upon credit. So the
night passed off very merrily, but to my mind Sir Condy was
rather upon the sad order in the midst of it all, not finding there
had been such a great talk about himself after his death as he
had always expected to hear.
## p. 5156 (#328) ###########################################
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MARIA EDGEWORTH
SIR MURTAGH RACKRENT AND HIS LADY
From Castle Rackrent)
N°
ow it was that the world was to see what was in Sir Patrick.
On coming into the estate he gave the finest entertainment
ever was heard of in the country; not a man could stand
after supper but Sir Patrick himself, who could sit out the best
man in Ireland, let alone the three kingdoms itself. He had his
house, from one year's end to another, as full of company as
ever it could hold, and fuller; for rather than be left out of the
parties at Castle Rackrent, many gentlemen, and those men of the
first consequence and landed estates in the country,- such as the
O'Neils of Ballynagrotty, and the Moneygawls of Mount Juliet's
Town, and O'Shannons of New Town Tullyhog, - made it their
choice often and often, when there was no moon to be had for
love nor money, in long winter nights, to sleep in the chicken-
house, which Sir Patrick had fitted up for the purpose of ac-
commodating his friends and the public in general, who honored
him with their company unexpectedly at Castle Rackrent; and
this went on I can't tell you how long: the whole country rang
with his praises - long life to him! I'm sure I love to look upon
his picture, now opposite to me; though I never saw him, he
must have been a portly gentleman - his neck something short,
and remarkable for the largest pimple on his nose, which by his
particular desire is still extant in his picture, said to be a strik-
ing likeness though taken when young: He is said also to be
the inventor of raspberry whisky; which is very likely, as nobody
has ever appeared to dispute it with him, and as there still ex-
ists a broken punch-bowl at Castle Rackrent in the garret, with
an inscription to that effect - a great curiosity. A few days be-
fore his death he was very merry; it being his Honor's birthday,
he called my grandfather in, God bless him! to drink the com-
pany's health, and filled a bumper himself, but could not carry
it to his head on account of the great shake in his hand; on this
he cast his joke, saying: -“What would my poor father say to me
if he was to pop out of the grave and see me now? I remem-
ber when I was a little boy, the first bumper of claret he gave
me after dinner, how he praised me for carrying it so steady to
my mouth. Here's my thanks to him a bumper toast. ” Then
ne fell to singing the favorite song he learned from his father -
## p. 5157 (#329) ###########################################
MARIA EDGEWORTH
5157
for the last time, poor gentleman; he sung it that night as loud
and as hearty as ever, with a chorus:
«He that goes to bed, and goes to bed sober,
Falls as the leaves do,
Falls as the leaves do, and dies in October;
But he that goes to bed, and goes to bed mellow,
Lives as he ought to do,
Lives as he ought to do, and dies an honest fellow. ”
Sir Patrick died that night: just as the company rose to drink
his health with three cheers, he fell down in a sort of fit, and was
carried off; they sat it out, and were surprised, on inquiry in the
morning, to find that it was all over with poor Sir Patrick. Never
did any gentleman live and die more beloved in the country by
rich and poor.
His funeral was such a one as was never known
before or since in the county! All the gentlemen in the three
counties were at it; far and near, how they flocked! My great-
grandfather said that to see all the women even in their red
cloaks, you would have taken them for the army drawn out.
Then such a fine whillaluh! you might have heard it to the
farthest end of the county, and happy the man who could get but
a sight of the hearse! But who'd have thought it ? just as all was
going on right, through his own town they were passing, when
the body was seized for debt: a rescue was apprehended from the
mob, but the heir, who attended the funeral, was against that
for fear of consequences, seeing that those villains who came to
serve acted under the disguise of the law; so, to be sure, the
law must take its course, and little gain had the creditors for
their pains. First and foremost, they had the curses of the coun-
try; and Sir Murtagh Rackrent, the new heir, in the next place,
on account of this affront to the body, refused to pay a shilling
of the debts, in which he was countenanced by all the best gen-
tlemen of property, and others of his acquaintance. Sir Murtagh
alleging in all companies, that he all along meant to pay his
father's debts of honor, but the moment the law was taken of
him there was an end of honor to be sure. It was whispered
(but none but the enemies of the family believed it) that this
was all a sham seizure to get quit of the debts, which he had
bound himself to pay in honor.
It's a long time ago, there's no saying how it was, but this
for certain: the new man did not take at all after the old
## p. 5158 (#330) ###########################################
5158
MARIA EDGEWORTH
1
1
1
gentleman; the cellars were never filled after his death, and no
open house or anything as it used to be; the tenants even were
sent away without their whisky. I was ashamed myself, and
knew not what to say for the honor of the family; but I made the
best of a bad case, and laid it all at my lady's door, for I did not
like her anyhow, nor anybody else; she was of the family of the
Skinflints, and a widow; it was a strange match for Sir Murtagh;
the people in the country thought he demeaned himself greatly,
but I said nothing: I knew how it was; Sir Murtagh was a great
lawyer, and looked to the great Skinflint estate; there however
he overshot himself; for though one of the co-heiresses, he was
never the better for her, for she outlived him many's the long
day — he could not see that, to be sure, when he married her. I
must say for her, she made him the best of wives, being a very
notable stirring woman, and looking close to everything. But I
always suspected she had Scotch blood in her veins; anything
else I could have looked over in her from a regard to the fam-
ily. She was a strict observer for self and servants of Lent, and
all fast days, but not holy days. One of the maids having fainted
three time the last day of Lent, to keep soul and body together
we put a morsel of roast beef in her mouth, which came from
Sir Murtagh's dinner,— who never fasted, not he; but somehow or
other it unfortunately reached my lady's ears, and the priest of
the parish had a complaint made of it the next day, and the poor
girl was forced as soon as she could walk to do penance for it,
before she could get any peace or absolution, in the house or out
of it. However, my lady was very charitable in her own way.
She had a charity school for poor children, where they were
taught to read and write gratis, and where they were kept well
to spinning gratis for my lady in return; for she had always
heaps of duty yarn from the tenants, and got all her household
linen out of the estate from first to last; for after the spinning,
the weavers on the estate took it in hand for nothing, because of
the looms my lady's interest could get from the linen board to
distribute gratis. Then there was a bleach-yard near us, and the
tenant dare refuse my lady nothing, for fear of a law suit Sir
Murtagh kept hanging over him about the water-course.
With these ways of managing, 'tis surprising how cheap my
lady got things done, and how proud she was of it. Her table,
the same way, kept for next to nothing,-duty fowls, and duty
turkeys, and duty geese came as fast as we could eat 'em, for
## p. 5159 (#331) ###########################################
MARIA EDGEWORTH
5159
sure.
SO
my lady kept a sharp lookout, and knew to a tub of butter
everything the tenants had, all round. They knew her way, and
what with fear of driving for rent and Sir Murtagh's lawsuits,
they were kept in such good order, they never thought of com-
ing near Castle Rackrent without a present of something or
other — nothing too much or too little for my lady: eggs, honey,
butter, meal, fish, game, grouse, and herrings, fresh or salt, all
went for something. As for their young pigs, we had them, and
the best bacon and hams they could make up, with all young
chickens in spring; but they were a set of poor wretches, and
we had nothing but misfortunes with them, always breaking and
running away. This, Sir Murtagh and my lady said, was all
their former landlord Sir Patrick's fault, who let 'em all get the
half-year's rent into arrear; there was something in that, to be
But Sir Murtagh was as much the contrary way; for let
alone making English tenants of them, every soul, he was always
driving and driving and pounding and pounding, and canting
and canting and replevying and replevying, and he made a good
living of trespassing cattle; there was always some tenant's pig,
or horse, or cow, or calf, or goose trespassing, which was
great a gain to Sir Murtagh that he did not like to hear me
talk of repairing fences. Then his heriots and duty work brought
him in something; his turf was cut, his potatoes set and dug,
his hay brought home, and in short, all the work about his house
done for nothing; for in all our leases there were strict clauses
heavy with penalties, which Sir Murtagh knew well how to en-
force: so many days' duty work of man and horse from every
tenant he was to have, and had, every year; and when a man
vexed him, why, the finest day he could pitch on, when the
cratur was getting in his own harvest, or thatching his cabin, Sir
Murtagh made it a principle to call upon him and his horse; so
he taught 'em all, as he said, to know the law of landlord and
tenant.
As for law, I believe no man, dead or alive, ever loved it so
well as Sir Murtagh. He had once sixteen suits pending at a
time, and I never saw him so much himself; roads, lanes, bogs,
wells, ponds, eel weirs, orchards, trees, tithes, vagrants, gravel
pits, sand pits, dung-hills, and nuisances,-everything upon the
face of the earth furnished him good matter for a suit. He used
to boast that he had a law suit for every letter in the alphabet.
How I used to wonder to see Sir Murtagh in the midst of the
## p. 5160 (#332) ###########################################
5160
MARIA EDGEWORTH
papers in his office! Why, he could hardly turn about for them.
I made bold to shrug my shoulders once in his presence, and
thank my stars I was not born a gentleman to so much toil and
trouble; but Sir Murtagh took me up short with his old proverb,
“Learning is better than house or land. ” Out of forty-nine suits
which he had, he never lost one but seventeen; the rest he
gained with costs, double costs, treble costs sometimes; but even
that did not pay. He was a very learned man in the law, and
had the character of it; but how it was I can't tell, these suits
that he carried cost him a power of money: in the end he sold
some hundreds a year of the family estate: but he was a very
learned man in the law, and I know nothing of the matter, ex-
cept having a great regard for the family; and I could not help
grieving when he sent me to post up notices of the sale of the
fee-simple of the lands and appurtenances of Timoleague. "I
know, honest Thady,” says he to comfort me, “what I'm about
better than you do; I'm only selling to get the ready money
wanting to carry on my suit with spirit with the Nugents of
Carrickashaughlin. ”
He was very sanguine about that suit with the Nugents of
Carrickashaughlin. He could have gained it, they say, for cer-
tain, had it pleased Heaven to have spared him to us, and it
would have been at the least a plump two thousand a year in
his way; but things were ordered otherwise, — for the best, to be
He dug up a fairy mount against my advice, and had no
luck afterward. Though a learned man in the law, he was a
little too incredulous in other matters. I warned him that I
heard the very Banshee that my grandfather heard under Sir
Patrick's window a few days before his death. But Sir Murtagh
thought nothing of the Banshee, nor of his cough with a spitting
of blood, - brought on, I understand, by catching cold in attend-
ing the courts, and overstraining his chest with making himself
heard in one of his favorite causes. He was a great speaker,
with a powerful voice; but his last speech was not in the courts
at all. He and my lady, though both of the same way of think-
ing in some things, and though she was as good a wife and
great economist as you could see, and he the best of husbands
as to looking into his affairs, and making money for his family,–
yet I don't know how it was, they had a great deal of sparring
and jarring between them. My lady had her privy purse, and
she had her weed ashes, and her sealing money upon the signing
sure.
## p. 5161 (#333) ###########################################
MARIA EDGEWORTH
5161
All on
of all the leases, with something to buy gloves besides; and
besides, again, often took money from the tenants, if offered
properly, to speak for them to Sir Murtagh about abatements
and renewals. Now the weed ashes and the glove money he
allowed her clear perquisites; though once when he saw her in
a new gown saved out of the weed ashes, he told her to my face
(for he could say a sharp thing) that she should not put on her
weeds before her husband's death. But in a dispute about an
abatement, my lady would have the last word, and Sir Murtagh
grew mad; I was within hearing of the door, and now I wish I
had made bold to step in. He spoke so loud the whole kitchen
was out on the stairs.
a sudden he stopped, and my
lady too. Something has surely happened, thought I- and so it
was, for Sir Murtagh in his passion broke a blood-vessel, and all
the law in the land could do nothing in that case. My lady
sent for five physicians, but Sir Murtagh died, and was buried.
She had a fine jointure settled upon her, and took herself away,
to the great joy of the tenantry. I never said anything one
way or the other, while she was part of the family, but got up
to see her go at three o'clock in the morning. “It's a fine
morning, honest Thady,” says she; “good-by to ye,” and into
the carriage she stepped, without a word more, good or bad, or
even half a crown; but I made my bow, and stood to see her
safe out of sight, for the sake of the family.
## p. 5162 (#334) ###########################################
5162
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
(1849-1892)
A
SONNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN, afterwards Duchess of Ca-
janello, was born in Stockholm, October ist, 1849.
She was
the most prominent among contemporary women writers of
Sweden, and won for herself an eminent position in the world of let-
ters, not only for the truthfulness of her delineation of life, but for
the brilliancy of her style and her skill in using her material. The
circumstances of her early life were comfortable and commonplace.
She was the only daughter of a Swedish rector, and from her mother,
also the daughter of a clergyman, she inherited her literary tenden-
cies. From her parents and her three devoted brothers she received
every encouragement, but with wise foresight they restrained her
desire to publish her early writings; and it was not until her talent
was fully developed that her first book, a collection of stories entitled
Händelsvis? (By Chance), appeared in 1869, under the pseudonym of
«Carlot. ” In 1872 she was married to Gustav Edgren, secretary of the
prefecture in Stockholm; and though fitting and harmonious, this
marriage was undoubtedly one of convenience, brought about by the
altered circumstances of her life.
In 1873 she published the drama (Skådespelerskan' (The Actress),
which held the stage in Stockholm for an entire winter, and this was
followed by Pastorsadjunkten (The Curate), 1876, and Elfvan' (The
Elf), 1880, the latter being even more than usually successful. Her
equipment as a dramatist was surprisingly slender, as until the time
of her engagement to Mr. Edgren she had never visited the theatre,
and necessarily was absolutely ignorant of the technique of the stage.
Nevertheless, her natural dramatic instincts supplied the defects of a
lack of training, and her plays met with almost universal success.
The theme of all her dramas, under various guises, is the same,- the
struggle of a woman's individuality with the conventional environment
of her life. Mrs. Edgren herself laments that she was born a woman,
when nature had so evidently intended her for a man.
Her first work to be published under her own name was in 1882,-
a collection of tales entitled Ur Lifvet (From Life), which were
received with especial applause. Her works were translated into
Danish, Russian, and German, and she now became widely known
as one of the most talented of Swedish writers. In 1883 appeared a
second volume of From Life); and still later, in 1889, yet another
## p. 5163 (#335) ###########################################
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
5163
under the same title. These later stories betrayed a boldness of
thought and expression not before evinced, and placed the author
in the ranks of the radicals. The drama (Sanna Kvinnor' (Ideal
Women) appeared in 1883; Huru Man Gör Godt? (How We do Good)
in 1885; and in 1888, in collaboration with Sónya Kovalevsky, Kam.
pen för Lyckan' (The Struggle for Happiness).
In company with her brother, Professor Mittag-Leffler, she attended
a Mathematical Congress in Algiers, in the early part of the year
1888; and upon the return journey through Italy she made the ac-
quaintance of Signor Pasquale del Pezzo, subsequently Duke of Caja-
nello, a mathematician and friend of her brother, and professor in
the University of Naples. Mrs. Edgren was married to the Duke of
Cajanello in 1890, after the dissolution of her marriage with Mr.
Edgren. After this event she published a romance which attracted
a great deal of attention, called Kvinlighet och Erotik? (Womanli-
ness and Erotics), 1890, and among others the drama (Familjelycka?
(Domestic Happiness), and En Räddende Engel (A Rescuing Angel),
with which last she achieved her greatest dramatic success. Her last
work was a biography of her intimate friend Sónya Kovalevsky.
While in the midst of her literary labors, and in the fullness of her
powers, she died suddenly at Naples, October 21st, 1893.
The subjects of her writings are the deepest questions of life.
Her special theme is the relation between men and women, and in
her studies of the question she has given to the world a series of
types of wonderful vividness and accuracy. The life that she knows
best is the social life of the upper classes; and in all her work, but
particularly in her dramas, she treats its problems with a masculine
vigor and strength. Realism sometimes overshadows poetry, but the
faithfulness of her work is beyond question.
## p. 5164 (#336) ###########################################
5164
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
OPEN SESAME
"I"
had on
T WAS once upon a time" so the fairy stories begin.
At that particular time there was a government clerk, not
precisely young, and a little moth-eaten in appearance, who
was on his way home from the office the day after his wedding.
On the wedding day itself he had also sat in the office and
written until three o'clock. After this he had gone out, and as
usual eaten his frugal midday meal at an unpretending restaurant
in a narrow street, and then had gone home to his upper cham-
ber in an old house in the Österlånggata, in order to get his
somewhat worn dress coat, which had done good and faithful serv-
ice for twelve years. He had speculated a good deal about buy-
ing a new coat for his wedding day, but had at last arrived at
the conclusion that, all in all, it would be a superfluous luxury.
The bride was a telegraph operator, somewhat weakly, and
nervous from labor and want, and of rather an unattractive ex-
terior. The wedding took place in all quietness at the house of
the bride's old unmarried aunt, who lived in Söder. The bride
a black-silk dress, and the newly married pair drove
home in a droschke.
So the wedding day had passed, but now it was the day after.
From ten o'clock on he had sat in his office, just as on all other
days. Now he was on the way home his own home!
That was a strange feeling; indeed, it was such an overpower-
ing feeling that he stood still many times on the way and fell
into a brown study.
A memory of childhood came into his mind.
He saw himself as a little boy, sitting at his father's desk in
the little parsonage, reading fairy tales. How many times had he
read, again and again, his favorite story out of the Arabian
Nights of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves! How his heart
had beaten in longing suspense, when he stood with the hero of
the story outside the closed door of the mountain and called,
first gently and a little anxiously, afterwards loudly and boldly:
Sesame, Sesame! Open Sesame! ”
And when the mountain opened its door, what splendor! The
poor room of the parsonage was transformed into the rich treas-
ure chamber of the mountain, and round about on the walls
gleamed the most splendid jewels. There were, besides horses
and carriages, beautifully rigged ships, weapons, armor - all the
## p. 5165 (#337) ###########################################
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
5165
best that a child's fantasy could dream. His old father looked
in astonishment at his youngest child, it was so long since he
himself had been a child, and all the others were already grown
up. He did not understand him, but asked him half reprovingly
what he was thinking about, that his eyes glistened so.
Thus he also came to think about his youth, about his student
years at Upsala. He was a poet, a singer; he had the name of
being greatly gifted, and stood high in his comrades' estimation.
What if any one had told him at that time that he should end as
a petty government clerk, be married to a telegraph operator,
and live in the Repslagaregata in Söder! Bah! Life had a
thousand possibilities. The future's perspective was illimitable.
Nothing was impossible. No honor was so great that he could
not attain it; no woman so beautiful that he could not win her.
What did it signify that he was poor, that he was only named
Andersson, and that he was the eighth child of a poor parson,
who himself was peasant-born ? Had not most of the nation's
gifted men sprung from the ranks of the people ? Yes, his en-
dowments, they were the magic charm, the Open Sesame! ”
which were to admit him to all the splendors of life.
As to how things, later on, had gone with him, he did not
allow himself to think. Either his endowments had not been as
great as he had believed, or the difficulties of living had stifled
them, or fortune had not been with him: enough, it had hap-
pened to him as to Ali Baba's wicked brother Casim, who stood
inside the mountain only to find out to his horror that he had
forgotten the magic charm, and in the anguish of death beat
about in his memory to recall it. That was a cruel time - but
it was not worth while now to think about it longer.
Rapidly one thought followed upon another in his mind. Now
he came to think upon the crown princess, who had made a royal
entrance into the capital just at this time. He had received per-
mission to accompany his superiors and stand in the festal pavil-
ion when she landed. That was a glorious moment. The poet's
gifts of his youth were not far from awakening again in the
exaltation of the moment; and had he still been the young
applauding poet of earlier days, instead of the neglected govern-
ment clerk, he would probably have written a festal poem and
sent it to the Post.
For it was fine to be the Princess Victoria at that moment.
It was one of the occasions that life has not many of. To be
## p. 5166 (#338) ###########################################
5166
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
nineteen years old, newly married to a young husband, loved and
loving, and to make a ceremonious entry into one's future capital,
which is in festal array and lies fabulously beautiful in the
autumn sun, to be greeted with shouts of joy by countless
masses of men, and to be so inexperienced in life that one has
no presentiment of the shadows which hide themselves back of
this bright picture — yes, that might indeed be an unforgettable
moment; one of those that only fall to the lot of few mortals, so
that they seem to belong more to the world of fable than to
reality! Had the magic charm, "Open Sesame! ” conjured up
anything more beautiful ?
And yet! yet! - The government clerk had neared his home
and stood in front of his own door. No, the crown prince was
surely not happier when he led his bride into his rejoicing capi-
tal, than was he at this moment. He had found again the long-
lost magic charm. The little knob there on the door — that was
his Open Sesame! ” He needed only to press upon it, when
the mountain would again open its treasures to him — not weap-
ons and gleaming armor as in his childhood — not honors and
homage and social position as in his youth—no, something better
than all these. Something that forms the kernel itself of all
human happiness, upon the heights of life as well as in its most
concealed hiding-places- a heart that only beat for him, his own
home, where there was one who longed for him—a wife! Yes,
a wife whom he loved, not with the first passion of youth, but
with the tenderness and faithfulness of manhood.
He stood outside his own door; he was tired and hungry, and
his wife waited for him at the midday meal; that was, to be
sure, commonplace and unimportant - and yet it was so wonder-
fully new and attractive.
Gently, cautiously as a child who had been given a new play-
thing, he pressed upon the little knob on the door - and then
he stood still with restrained breath and listened for the light
quick step that approached.
It was just as though in his childhood he stood outside the
mountain and called, first gently and half in fear, and then
loudly and with a voice trembling with glad expectation, «Sesame,
Sesame! Open Sesame ! »
Translated for (A Library of the World's Best Literature,' by William H.
Carpenter
1
## p. 5167 (#339) ###########################################
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
5167
A BALL IN HIGH LIFE
From A Rescuing Angel
T.
He counselor's wife sat down on the sofa with her hands
folded in her lap. Arla remained standing a little farther
away, so that the green lamp-shade left her face in shadow.
“My little girl,” began her mother in a mild voice, do not
feel hurt, but I must make a few remarks on your behavior
to-night. First of all, you will have to hold yourself a little
straighter when you dance. This tendency to droop the head
looks very badly. I noticed it especially when you danced with
Captain Lagerskiöld — and do you know, it looked almost as if
you were leaning your head against his shoulder. ”
Arla blushed; she did not know why, but this reproach hurt
her deeply.
«The dancing-teacher always said that to dance well one must
lean toward one's partner,” she objected in a raised voice.
“If that is so, it is better not to dance so well,” answered her
mother seriously. And another thing. I heard you ask Mr.
Örn to excuse you.
And you danced the cotillon after all. ”
“I suppose one has a right to dance with whom one pleases. ”
“One never has a right to hurt others; and besides, you said
to Mr. Örn that you were tired out and not able to dance again.
How could you then immediately after —
«Captain Lagerskiöld leads so well,” she said, lifting her head,
and her mother saw that her eyes were shining. “To dance
with him is no exertion. ”
Her mother seemed inclined to say something, but hesitated.
“Come a little nearer,” she said. « Let me look at you. "
Arla came up, knelt down on a footstool, hid her face in her
mother's dress, and began to cry softly.
"I shall have to tell you, then,” said her mother, smoothing
her hair. “Poor child, don't give yourself up to these dreams.
Captain Lagerskiöld is the kind of a man that I should have pre-
ferred never to have asked to our house. He is a man entirely
without character and principles - to be frank, a bad man. ”
Arla raised her tear-stained face quickly.
"I know that,” she said almost triumphantly. “He told me
so himself. ”
Her mother was silent with astonishment, and Arla continued,
rising, «He has never had any parents nor any home, but has
## p. 5168 (#340) ###########################################
5168
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
always been surrounded with temptations. And,” she went on
in a lower voice, he has never found any one that he could
really love, and it is only through love that he can be rescued
from the dark powers that have ruled his life. ”
She repeated almost word for word what he had said. He
had expressed himself in so commonplace a way, and she was so
far from suspecting what his confession really meant, that she
would not have been able to clothe them in her own words.
She had only a vague impression that he was unhappy and sin-
ful — and that she should save him. Sinful was to her a mere
abstract idea: everybody was full of sin, and his sin was very
likely that he lived without God. He had perhaps never learned
to pray, and maybe he never went to church or took the com-
munion. She knew that there were men who never did. And
then perhaps he had been engaged to Cecilia, and had broken
the engagement when he saw that he did not really love her.
“And all this he has told you already! ” exclaimed her mother,
when she got over her first surprise. “Well then, I can also
guess what he said further. Do you want me to tell you ? You
are the first girl he has really loved — you are to be his rescuing
angel-
Arla made a faint exclamation.
“You do not suppose I have been listening? ” asked her
mother. "I know it without that; men like this always speak
so when they want to win an innocent girl. When I was young
I had an admirer of this kind — that is not an uncommon experi-
1
ence. ”
Not uncommon! These words were
not said
to her only;
other men had said the same before this to other young girls!
Oh! but not in the same way, at any rate! thought Arla. As he
had said them — with such a look —- such a voice — no, nobody
else could ever have done that.
“And you didn't understand that a man who can make a
young girl a declaration of love the first time he sees her must
be superficial and not to be trusted ? ” continued her mother.
"Mamma does not know what love is,” thought Arla. « She
does not know that it is born in a moment and lasts for life.
She has of course never loved papa; then they would not be so
matter-of-fact now. ”
“And what did you answer? ” asked her mother.
Arla turned away. “I answered nothing,” she said in a low
voice.
## p. 5169 (#341) ###########################################
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
5169
( Then
was
The mother's troubled face grew a little brighter.
« That was right," she said, patting her on the cheek.
you left him at once. ”
Arla was on the point of saying, "Not at once, but she
could not make this confession. Other questions would then fol-
low, and she would be obliged to describe what had happened.
Describe a scene like this to her mother, who did not know
what love was! That was impossible! So she said yes, but in
so weak and troubled a voice that her mother at once saw it
was not true. This was not Arla's first untruth; on the con-
trary, she had often been guilty of this fault when a child. She
so shy and loving that she could not stand the smallest
reproach, and a severe look was enough to make her cry; conse-
quently she was always ready to deny as soon as she had made
the slightest mistake. But when her mother took her face be-
tween her hands and looked straight into her eyes, she saw at
once how matters stood, for the eyes could hide nothing. And
since Arla grew older she had fought so much against this weak-
ness that she had almost exaggerated her truthfulness.
She was
now as quick to confess what might bring displeasure on herself,
as if she were afraid of giving temptation the slightest room.
The mother, who with deep joy had noticed her many little
victories over herself, was painfully impressed by this relapse.
She could not now treat Arla as she had done when she was a
little girl. Instead of this, she opened the Bible by one of the
many book-marks, with a somewhat trembling hand.
“Although it is late, shall we not read a chapter together,
as we always do before we go to bed ? ” she asked, and looked
up at her daughter.
Arla stepped back, and cast an almost frightened glance at
the little footstool where she had been sitting at her mother's
knee every evening since she was a little girl. All this seemed
now so strange - it was no longer herself, it was a little younger
sister, who used to sit there and confess to her mother all her
dreams and all her little sorrows.
“I don't want to — I cannot read to-night. ”
Her mother laid the book down again, gave her daughter a
mild, sad look and said, “Then remember, my child, that this
was the consequence of your first ball. ”
Arla bent her head and left the room slowly. Her mother
let her go; she found it wisest to leave her to herself until her
IX—324
.
## p. 5170 (#342) ###########################################
5170
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
emotion had somewhat worn itself out. Arla would not go into
her own room; she dreaded Gurli's chatter; she had to be alone
to get control over her thoughts. In the drawing-room she
found her father.
“Is mamma in her room ? ” he asked.
« Yes. ”
“Is she alone ? Are the children asleep? ”
“Yes, mamma is alone. ”
“Well! Good-night, my girl. ” He kissed her lips and went
into the bedroom.
Arla opened a window in the drawing-room to let out the hot
air, and then began to walk up and down wrapped in a large
shawl, enjoying the clear cold winter moonlight, which played
over the snow and hid itself behind the trees in the park outside
the window. There they were to meet to-morrow! Oh, if only
he had said now, at once! If only she could slip out now in her
thin gown, and he could wrap his cape around her to keep her
warm — she did not remember that the men of to-day did not
wear capes like Romeo — and if then they could have gone away
together - far, far away from this prosaic world, where nobody
understood that two hearts could meet and find each other from
the first moment.
She was not left alone long; a door was opened, light steps
came tripping, and a white apparition in night-gown stood in the
full light of the moonbeam.
“But Arla, are you never, never coming ? ”
“Why, Gurli dear, why aren't you asleep long ago ? ”
“Eh? do you think I can sleep before I have heard some-
thing about the ball ? Come in now; how cold it is here ! »
She was so cold that she shivered in her thin night-gown, but
clung nevertheless to her sister, who was standing by the window.
"Go; you are catching cold. ”
"I don't care,” she said, chattering. “I am not going till you
come. ”
Arla was, as usual, obliged to give in to the younger sister's
strong will.
She closed the window and they went into their
room, where Gurli crept into bed again and drew the cover up
to her very chin. Arla began to unfasten her dress and take the
flowers out of her hair.
“Well, I suppose you had a divine time," came a voice from
the bed behind chattering teeth. There was nothing to be seen
## p. 5171 (#343) ###########################################
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
5171
of Gurli but a pair of impatient dark eyes, under a wilderness of
brown hair.
Arla was sitting at the toilet-table, her back to her sister.
"Oh yes,” she said.
“I see on your card that you danced two dances with Captain
Lagerskiöld. I suppose he dances awfully well, eh? ”
“Do you know him ? ” asked Arla, and turned on the chair.
"Oh yes, I do. Didn't he ask for me?
“Yes, now I remember. He said he had seen you with the
children on the coasting-hill. You must have been a little rude
to him ?
The whole head came out above the cover now.
“Rude! how ? »
He said something about your being so pert. ”
“Pert? Oh, what a fib you do tell! » cried Gurli, and sat up
in bed with a jump.
"I don't usually tell stories,” said Arla with wounded dignity,
but blushed at the same time.
“Oh yes, you do now, I am sure you do. I don't believe
you, if you don't tell me word for word what he said. Who
began talking of me? And what did he say? And what did you
say ? )
You had better tell me why you are so much interested in
him,” said Arla in the somewhat superior tone of the elder sister.
« That is none of your business. I will tell you that I am no
longer a little girl, as you seem to think. And even though I
am treated like a child here at home, there are others who —
who- »
"Are you not a child ? ” said Arla. “You are not confirmed
yet. ”
“Oh, is that it ? That 'confirmation' is only a ceremony,
which I submit to for mamma's sake. And don't imagine that it
is confirmation which makes women of us; no indeed, it is some-
thing else. ”
“What then ? ” asked Arla, much surprised.
“It is - it is — love," burst out Gurli, and hid her head under
the covers.
“Love! But Gurli, how you do talk! What do you know
about that? You, a little schoolgirl! ”
"Don't say little schoolgirl — that makes me furious,” cried
Gurli, as she pushed the cover aside with both hands and jumped
## p. 5172 (#344) ###########################################
5172
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
out on the floor. « Then you are much more of a schoolgirl than
I. Is there perhaps any man who has told you that he loves
you? Is there ? »
"Oh, but Gurli, what nonsense,” said Arla laughing out-
right. "Has really one of Arvid's friends -->
«Arvid's friends! ” repeated Gurli with an expression of in-
describable contempt. “Do you think such little boys would
dare? Ph! I would give them a box on the ear,— that would be
the quickest way of getting rid of such little whipper-snappers.
No indeed; it is a man, a real man a man that any girl would
envy me.
She was so pretty as she stood there in her white gown, with
her dancing eyes and thick hair standing like a dark cloud around
her rosy young face, that a light broke on Arla, and a suspicion
of the truth flashed through her mind.
5152
MARIA EDGEWORTH
appeared in 1820. Her last novel, (Helen,' published in 1834, shows
no diminution of her charm and grace. With occasional visits to
Paris and London, and a memorable trip to Scotland in 1823, when
she was entertained at Abbotsford, she lived serene and happy at
Edgeworth's-town until her sudden death, May 21st 1849.
Miss Edgeworth was extremely small, not beautiful; but a brilliant
talker and a great favorite in the exclusive society to which she
everywhere had access. Her greatest success was in the new field
opened in her Irish stories, full of racy, rollicking Irish humor, and
valuable pictures of bygone conditions,— for the genial peasant of her
pages is now rarely found. Not the least we owe her is the influ-
ence which her national tales had on Sir Walter Scott, who declared
that her success led him to do the same for his own country in the
Waverley Novels. Miss Edgeworth's style is easy and animated. Her
tales show her extraordinary power of observation, her good sense,
and remarkable skill in dialogue, though they are biased by the
didactic purpose which permeates all her writings. As Madame de
Staël remarked, she was “lost in dreary utility. ” And doubtless this
is why she just missed greatness, and has been consigned to the
ranks of (standard” authors who are respectfully alluded to but sel-
dom read. The lack of tenderness and imagination was perhaps the
result of her unusual self-control, shown in her custom of writing in
the family sitting-room, and so concentrating her mind on her work
that she was deaf to all that went on about her. Surely some of the
creative power of her mind must have been lost in that strenuous
effort. Her noble character, as well as her talents, won for her the
friendship of many distinguished people of her day. With Scott she
was intimate, Byron found her charming and Macaulay was
enthusiastic admirer. In her recently edited letters are found many
interesting and valuable accounts of the people she met in the course
of her long life.
Miss Edgeworth's life has been written by Helen Zimmern and
Grace A. Oliver; her (Life and Letters,' edited by Augustus J. C.
Hare, appeared in 1895. Pen Portraits of Literary Women,' by
Helen Gray Cone and Jeannette L. Gilder, contains a sketch of her.
an
## p. 5153 (#325) ###########################################
MARIA EDGEWORTH
5153
SIR CONDY'S WAKE
From Castle Rackrent)
W**
HEN they were made sensible that Sir Condy was going to
leave Castle Rackrent for good and all, they set up a
whillaluh that could be heard to the farthest end of the
street; and one fine boy he was, that my master had given an
apple to that morning, cried the loudest; but they all were the
same sorry, for Sir Condy was greatly beloved among the child-
her, for letting them go a-nutting in the demesne without saying
a word to them, though my lady objected to them. The people
in the town, who were the most of them standing at their doors,
hearing the childher cry, would know the reason of it; and when
the report was made known the people one and all gathered in
great anger against my son Jason, and terror at the notion of
his coming to be landlord over them, and they cried, “No Jason !
no Jason! Sir Condy! Sir Condy! Sir Condy Rackrent forever! »
and the mob grew so great and so loud I was frightened, and
made my way back to the house to warn my son to make his
escape or hide himself, for fear of the consequences. Jason
would not believe me till they came all round the house and
to the windows with great shouts; then he grew quite pale, and
asked Sir Condy what had he best do? "I'll tell you what you'd
best do,” said Sir Condy, who was laughing to see his fright:
finish your glass first; then let's go to the window and show
ourselves, and I'll tell 'em, or you shall if you please, that I'm
going to the lodge for change of air for my health, and by my
own desire, for the rest of my days. " "Do so,” said Jason who
never meant it should have been so, but could not refuse him
the lodge at this unseasonable time. Accordingly Sir Condy
threw up the sash and explained matters, and thanked all his
friends, and bid 'em look in at the punch-bowl, and observe that
Jason and he had been sitting over it very good friends; so the
mob was content, and he sent 'em out some whisky to drink his
health, and that was the last time his Honor's health was ever
drunk at Castle Rackrent.
The very next day, being too proud, as he said to me, to stay
an hour longer in a house that did not belong to him, he sets
off to the lodge, and I along with him not many hours after.
And there was great bemoaning through all O'Shaughlin's Town,
IX-323
## p. 5154 (#326) ###########################################
5154
MARIA EDGEWORTH
which I stayed to witness, and gave my poor master a full account
of when I got to the lodge. He was very low and in his bed
when I got there, and complained of a great pain about his
heart; but I guessed it was only trouble, and all the business,
let alone vexation, he had gone through of late; and knowing
the nature of him from a boy, I took my pipe, and while smok-
ing it by the chimney, began telling him how he was beloved
and regretted in the county, and it did him a deal of good to
hear it. “Your Honor has a great many friends yet, that you
don't know of, rich and poor in the country,” says I; "for as I
was coming along the road, I met two gentlemen in their own
carriages, who asked after you, knowing me, and wanted to
know where you was, and all about you, and even how old I
was: think of that! ” Then he wakened out of his doze, and be-
gan questioning me who the gentlemen were. And the next
morning it came into my head to go, unknown to anybody, with
my master's compliments, round to many of the gentlemen's
houses where he and my lady used to visit, and people that I
knew were his great friends, and would go to Cork to serve him
any day in the year, and I made bold to try to borrow a trifle
of cash from them. They all treated me very civil for the most
part, and asked a great many questions very kind about my
lady and Sir Condy and all the family, and were greatly sur-
prised to learn from me Castle Rackrent was sold, and my mas-
ter at the lodge for health; and they all pitied him greatly, and
he had their good wishes, if that would do, but money was a
thing they unfortunately had not any of them at this time to
spare. I had my journey for my pains, and I, not used to walk-
ing, nor supple as formerly, was greatly tired, but had the satis-
faction of telling my master, when I got to the lodge, all the
civil things said by high and low.
« Thady,” says he, "all you've been telling me brings a
strange thought into my head: I've a notion I shall not be long
for this world anyhow, and I've a great fancy to see my own
funeral afore I die. ” I was greatly shocked at the first speak-
ing, to hear him speak so light about his funeral, and he to all
appearances in good health, but recollecting myself answered: -
To be sure it would be as fine a sight as one could see, I
dared to say, and one I should be proud to witness; and I did
not doubt his Honor's would be as great a funeral as ever Sir
Patrick O'Shaughlin's was, and such a as that had never
## p. 5155 (#327) ###########################################
MARIA EDGEWORTH
5155
been known in the county before or since. ” But I never thought
he was in earnest about seeing his own funeral himself, till the
next day he returns to it again. « Thady,” says he, “as far as
the wake goes, sure I might without any great trouble have the
satisfaction of seeing a bit of my own funeral. ” “Well, since
your Honor's Honor's so bent upon it,” says I, not willing to
cross him, and he in trouble, we must see what we can do. "
So he fell into a sort of a sham disorder, which was easy done,
as he kept his bed and no one to see him; and I got my shister,
who was an old woman very handy about the sick, and
very
skillful, to come up to the lodge to nurse him; and we gave out,
she knowing no better, that he was just at his latter end, and it
answered beyond anything; and there was a great throng of peo-
ple, men, women, and children, and there being only two rooms
at the lodge, except what was locked up full of Jason's furniture
and things, the house was soon as full and fuller than it could
hold, and the heat and smoke and noise wonderful great; and
standing among them that were near the bed, but not thinking
at all of the dead, I was startled by the sound of my master's
voice from under the greatcoats that had been thrown all at
top, and I went close up, no one noticing. “Thady,” says he,
"I've had enough of this; I'm smothering, and can't hear a word
of all they're saying of the deceased. ” “God bless you, and lie
still and quiet,” says I, “a bit longer; for my shister's afraid of
ghosts and would die on the spot with fright, was she to see
you come to life all on a sudden this way without the least
preparation. " So he lays him still, though well-nigh stifled, and
I made all haste to tell the secret of the joke, whispering to one
and t’other, and there was a great surprise, but not so great as
we had laid out it would. And aren't we to have the pipes
and tobacco, after coming so far to-night? ” said some; but they
were all well enough pleased when his Honor got up to drink
with them, and sent for more spirits from a shebean-house,
where they very civilly let him have it upon credit. So the
night passed off very merrily, but to my mind Sir Condy was
rather upon the sad order in the midst of it all, not finding there
had been such a great talk about himself after his death as he
had always expected to hear.
## p. 5156 (#328) ###########################################
5156
MARIA EDGEWORTH
SIR MURTAGH RACKRENT AND HIS LADY
From Castle Rackrent)
N°
ow it was that the world was to see what was in Sir Patrick.
On coming into the estate he gave the finest entertainment
ever was heard of in the country; not a man could stand
after supper but Sir Patrick himself, who could sit out the best
man in Ireland, let alone the three kingdoms itself. He had his
house, from one year's end to another, as full of company as
ever it could hold, and fuller; for rather than be left out of the
parties at Castle Rackrent, many gentlemen, and those men of the
first consequence and landed estates in the country,- such as the
O'Neils of Ballynagrotty, and the Moneygawls of Mount Juliet's
Town, and O'Shannons of New Town Tullyhog, - made it their
choice often and often, when there was no moon to be had for
love nor money, in long winter nights, to sleep in the chicken-
house, which Sir Patrick had fitted up for the purpose of ac-
commodating his friends and the public in general, who honored
him with their company unexpectedly at Castle Rackrent; and
this went on I can't tell you how long: the whole country rang
with his praises - long life to him! I'm sure I love to look upon
his picture, now opposite to me; though I never saw him, he
must have been a portly gentleman - his neck something short,
and remarkable for the largest pimple on his nose, which by his
particular desire is still extant in his picture, said to be a strik-
ing likeness though taken when young: He is said also to be
the inventor of raspberry whisky; which is very likely, as nobody
has ever appeared to dispute it with him, and as there still ex-
ists a broken punch-bowl at Castle Rackrent in the garret, with
an inscription to that effect - a great curiosity. A few days be-
fore his death he was very merry; it being his Honor's birthday,
he called my grandfather in, God bless him! to drink the com-
pany's health, and filled a bumper himself, but could not carry
it to his head on account of the great shake in his hand; on this
he cast his joke, saying: -“What would my poor father say to me
if he was to pop out of the grave and see me now? I remem-
ber when I was a little boy, the first bumper of claret he gave
me after dinner, how he praised me for carrying it so steady to
my mouth. Here's my thanks to him a bumper toast. ” Then
ne fell to singing the favorite song he learned from his father -
## p. 5157 (#329) ###########################################
MARIA EDGEWORTH
5157
for the last time, poor gentleman; he sung it that night as loud
and as hearty as ever, with a chorus:
«He that goes to bed, and goes to bed sober,
Falls as the leaves do,
Falls as the leaves do, and dies in October;
But he that goes to bed, and goes to bed mellow,
Lives as he ought to do,
Lives as he ought to do, and dies an honest fellow. ”
Sir Patrick died that night: just as the company rose to drink
his health with three cheers, he fell down in a sort of fit, and was
carried off; they sat it out, and were surprised, on inquiry in the
morning, to find that it was all over with poor Sir Patrick. Never
did any gentleman live and die more beloved in the country by
rich and poor.
His funeral was such a one as was never known
before or since in the county! All the gentlemen in the three
counties were at it; far and near, how they flocked! My great-
grandfather said that to see all the women even in their red
cloaks, you would have taken them for the army drawn out.
Then such a fine whillaluh! you might have heard it to the
farthest end of the county, and happy the man who could get but
a sight of the hearse! But who'd have thought it ? just as all was
going on right, through his own town they were passing, when
the body was seized for debt: a rescue was apprehended from the
mob, but the heir, who attended the funeral, was against that
for fear of consequences, seeing that those villains who came to
serve acted under the disguise of the law; so, to be sure, the
law must take its course, and little gain had the creditors for
their pains. First and foremost, they had the curses of the coun-
try; and Sir Murtagh Rackrent, the new heir, in the next place,
on account of this affront to the body, refused to pay a shilling
of the debts, in which he was countenanced by all the best gen-
tlemen of property, and others of his acquaintance. Sir Murtagh
alleging in all companies, that he all along meant to pay his
father's debts of honor, but the moment the law was taken of
him there was an end of honor to be sure. It was whispered
(but none but the enemies of the family believed it) that this
was all a sham seizure to get quit of the debts, which he had
bound himself to pay in honor.
It's a long time ago, there's no saying how it was, but this
for certain: the new man did not take at all after the old
## p. 5158 (#330) ###########################################
5158
MARIA EDGEWORTH
1
1
1
gentleman; the cellars were never filled after his death, and no
open house or anything as it used to be; the tenants even were
sent away without their whisky. I was ashamed myself, and
knew not what to say for the honor of the family; but I made the
best of a bad case, and laid it all at my lady's door, for I did not
like her anyhow, nor anybody else; she was of the family of the
Skinflints, and a widow; it was a strange match for Sir Murtagh;
the people in the country thought he demeaned himself greatly,
but I said nothing: I knew how it was; Sir Murtagh was a great
lawyer, and looked to the great Skinflint estate; there however
he overshot himself; for though one of the co-heiresses, he was
never the better for her, for she outlived him many's the long
day — he could not see that, to be sure, when he married her. I
must say for her, she made him the best of wives, being a very
notable stirring woman, and looking close to everything. But I
always suspected she had Scotch blood in her veins; anything
else I could have looked over in her from a regard to the fam-
ily. She was a strict observer for self and servants of Lent, and
all fast days, but not holy days. One of the maids having fainted
three time the last day of Lent, to keep soul and body together
we put a morsel of roast beef in her mouth, which came from
Sir Murtagh's dinner,— who never fasted, not he; but somehow or
other it unfortunately reached my lady's ears, and the priest of
the parish had a complaint made of it the next day, and the poor
girl was forced as soon as she could walk to do penance for it,
before she could get any peace or absolution, in the house or out
of it. However, my lady was very charitable in her own way.
She had a charity school for poor children, where they were
taught to read and write gratis, and where they were kept well
to spinning gratis for my lady in return; for she had always
heaps of duty yarn from the tenants, and got all her household
linen out of the estate from first to last; for after the spinning,
the weavers on the estate took it in hand for nothing, because of
the looms my lady's interest could get from the linen board to
distribute gratis. Then there was a bleach-yard near us, and the
tenant dare refuse my lady nothing, for fear of a law suit Sir
Murtagh kept hanging over him about the water-course.
With these ways of managing, 'tis surprising how cheap my
lady got things done, and how proud she was of it. Her table,
the same way, kept for next to nothing,-duty fowls, and duty
turkeys, and duty geese came as fast as we could eat 'em, for
## p. 5159 (#331) ###########################################
MARIA EDGEWORTH
5159
sure.
SO
my lady kept a sharp lookout, and knew to a tub of butter
everything the tenants had, all round. They knew her way, and
what with fear of driving for rent and Sir Murtagh's lawsuits,
they were kept in such good order, they never thought of com-
ing near Castle Rackrent without a present of something or
other — nothing too much or too little for my lady: eggs, honey,
butter, meal, fish, game, grouse, and herrings, fresh or salt, all
went for something. As for their young pigs, we had them, and
the best bacon and hams they could make up, with all young
chickens in spring; but they were a set of poor wretches, and
we had nothing but misfortunes with them, always breaking and
running away. This, Sir Murtagh and my lady said, was all
their former landlord Sir Patrick's fault, who let 'em all get the
half-year's rent into arrear; there was something in that, to be
But Sir Murtagh was as much the contrary way; for let
alone making English tenants of them, every soul, he was always
driving and driving and pounding and pounding, and canting
and canting and replevying and replevying, and he made a good
living of trespassing cattle; there was always some tenant's pig,
or horse, or cow, or calf, or goose trespassing, which was
great a gain to Sir Murtagh that he did not like to hear me
talk of repairing fences. Then his heriots and duty work brought
him in something; his turf was cut, his potatoes set and dug,
his hay brought home, and in short, all the work about his house
done for nothing; for in all our leases there were strict clauses
heavy with penalties, which Sir Murtagh knew well how to en-
force: so many days' duty work of man and horse from every
tenant he was to have, and had, every year; and when a man
vexed him, why, the finest day he could pitch on, when the
cratur was getting in his own harvest, or thatching his cabin, Sir
Murtagh made it a principle to call upon him and his horse; so
he taught 'em all, as he said, to know the law of landlord and
tenant.
As for law, I believe no man, dead or alive, ever loved it so
well as Sir Murtagh. He had once sixteen suits pending at a
time, and I never saw him so much himself; roads, lanes, bogs,
wells, ponds, eel weirs, orchards, trees, tithes, vagrants, gravel
pits, sand pits, dung-hills, and nuisances,-everything upon the
face of the earth furnished him good matter for a suit. He used
to boast that he had a law suit for every letter in the alphabet.
How I used to wonder to see Sir Murtagh in the midst of the
## p. 5160 (#332) ###########################################
5160
MARIA EDGEWORTH
papers in his office! Why, he could hardly turn about for them.
I made bold to shrug my shoulders once in his presence, and
thank my stars I was not born a gentleman to so much toil and
trouble; but Sir Murtagh took me up short with his old proverb,
“Learning is better than house or land. ” Out of forty-nine suits
which he had, he never lost one but seventeen; the rest he
gained with costs, double costs, treble costs sometimes; but even
that did not pay. He was a very learned man in the law, and
had the character of it; but how it was I can't tell, these suits
that he carried cost him a power of money: in the end he sold
some hundreds a year of the family estate: but he was a very
learned man in the law, and I know nothing of the matter, ex-
cept having a great regard for the family; and I could not help
grieving when he sent me to post up notices of the sale of the
fee-simple of the lands and appurtenances of Timoleague. "I
know, honest Thady,” says he to comfort me, “what I'm about
better than you do; I'm only selling to get the ready money
wanting to carry on my suit with spirit with the Nugents of
Carrickashaughlin. ”
He was very sanguine about that suit with the Nugents of
Carrickashaughlin. He could have gained it, they say, for cer-
tain, had it pleased Heaven to have spared him to us, and it
would have been at the least a plump two thousand a year in
his way; but things were ordered otherwise, — for the best, to be
He dug up a fairy mount against my advice, and had no
luck afterward. Though a learned man in the law, he was a
little too incredulous in other matters. I warned him that I
heard the very Banshee that my grandfather heard under Sir
Patrick's window a few days before his death. But Sir Murtagh
thought nothing of the Banshee, nor of his cough with a spitting
of blood, - brought on, I understand, by catching cold in attend-
ing the courts, and overstraining his chest with making himself
heard in one of his favorite causes. He was a great speaker,
with a powerful voice; but his last speech was not in the courts
at all. He and my lady, though both of the same way of think-
ing in some things, and though she was as good a wife and
great economist as you could see, and he the best of husbands
as to looking into his affairs, and making money for his family,–
yet I don't know how it was, they had a great deal of sparring
and jarring between them. My lady had her privy purse, and
she had her weed ashes, and her sealing money upon the signing
sure.
## p. 5161 (#333) ###########################################
MARIA EDGEWORTH
5161
All on
of all the leases, with something to buy gloves besides; and
besides, again, often took money from the tenants, if offered
properly, to speak for them to Sir Murtagh about abatements
and renewals. Now the weed ashes and the glove money he
allowed her clear perquisites; though once when he saw her in
a new gown saved out of the weed ashes, he told her to my face
(for he could say a sharp thing) that she should not put on her
weeds before her husband's death. But in a dispute about an
abatement, my lady would have the last word, and Sir Murtagh
grew mad; I was within hearing of the door, and now I wish I
had made bold to step in. He spoke so loud the whole kitchen
was out on the stairs.
a sudden he stopped, and my
lady too. Something has surely happened, thought I- and so it
was, for Sir Murtagh in his passion broke a blood-vessel, and all
the law in the land could do nothing in that case. My lady
sent for five physicians, but Sir Murtagh died, and was buried.
She had a fine jointure settled upon her, and took herself away,
to the great joy of the tenantry. I never said anything one
way or the other, while she was part of the family, but got up
to see her go at three o'clock in the morning. “It's a fine
morning, honest Thady,” says she; “good-by to ye,” and into
the carriage she stepped, without a word more, good or bad, or
even half a crown; but I made my bow, and stood to see her
safe out of sight, for the sake of the family.
## p. 5162 (#334) ###########################################
5162
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
(1849-1892)
A
SONNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN, afterwards Duchess of Ca-
janello, was born in Stockholm, October ist, 1849.
She was
the most prominent among contemporary women writers of
Sweden, and won for herself an eminent position in the world of let-
ters, not only for the truthfulness of her delineation of life, but for
the brilliancy of her style and her skill in using her material. The
circumstances of her early life were comfortable and commonplace.
She was the only daughter of a Swedish rector, and from her mother,
also the daughter of a clergyman, she inherited her literary tenden-
cies. From her parents and her three devoted brothers she received
every encouragement, but with wise foresight they restrained her
desire to publish her early writings; and it was not until her talent
was fully developed that her first book, a collection of stories entitled
Händelsvis? (By Chance), appeared in 1869, under the pseudonym of
«Carlot. ” In 1872 she was married to Gustav Edgren, secretary of the
prefecture in Stockholm; and though fitting and harmonious, this
marriage was undoubtedly one of convenience, brought about by the
altered circumstances of her life.
In 1873 she published the drama (Skådespelerskan' (The Actress),
which held the stage in Stockholm for an entire winter, and this was
followed by Pastorsadjunkten (The Curate), 1876, and Elfvan' (The
Elf), 1880, the latter being even more than usually successful. Her
equipment as a dramatist was surprisingly slender, as until the time
of her engagement to Mr. Edgren she had never visited the theatre,
and necessarily was absolutely ignorant of the technique of the stage.
Nevertheless, her natural dramatic instincts supplied the defects of a
lack of training, and her plays met with almost universal success.
The theme of all her dramas, under various guises, is the same,- the
struggle of a woman's individuality with the conventional environment
of her life. Mrs. Edgren herself laments that she was born a woman,
when nature had so evidently intended her for a man.
Her first work to be published under her own name was in 1882,-
a collection of tales entitled Ur Lifvet (From Life), which were
received with especial applause. Her works were translated into
Danish, Russian, and German, and she now became widely known
as one of the most talented of Swedish writers. In 1883 appeared a
second volume of From Life); and still later, in 1889, yet another
## p. 5163 (#335) ###########################################
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
5163
under the same title. These later stories betrayed a boldness of
thought and expression not before evinced, and placed the author
in the ranks of the radicals. The drama (Sanna Kvinnor' (Ideal
Women) appeared in 1883; Huru Man Gör Godt? (How We do Good)
in 1885; and in 1888, in collaboration with Sónya Kovalevsky, Kam.
pen för Lyckan' (The Struggle for Happiness).
In company with her brother, Professor Mittag-Leffler, she attended
a Mathematical Congress in Algiers, in the early part of the year
1888; and upon the return journey through Italy she made the ac-
quaintance of Signor Pasquale del Pezzo, subsequently Duke of Caja-
nello, a mathematician and friend of her brother, and professor in
the University of Naples. Mrs. Edgren was married to the Duke of
Cajanello in 1890, after the dissolution of her marriage with Mr.
Edgren. After this event she published a romance which attracted
a great deal of attention, called Kvinlighet och Erotik? (Womanli-
ness and Erotics), 1890, and among others the drama (Familjelycka?
(Domestic Happiness), and En Räddende Engel (A Rescuing Angel),
with which last she achieved her greatest dramatic success. Her last
work was a biography of her intimate friend Sónya Kovalevsky.
While in the midst of her literary labors, and in the fullness of her
powers, she died suddenly at Naples, October 21st, 1893.
The subjects of her writings are the deepest questions of life.
Her special theme is the relation between men and women, and in
her studies of the question she has given to the world a series of
types of wonderful vividness and accuracy. The life that she knows
best is the social life of the upper classes; and in all her work, but
particularly in her dramas, she treats its problems with a masculine
vigor and strength. Realism sometimes overshadows poetry, but the
faithfulness of her work is beyond question.
## p. 5164 (#336) ###########################################
5164
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
OPEN SESAME
"I"
had on
T WAS once upon a time" so the fairy stories begin.
At that particular time there was a government clerk, not
precisely young, and a little moth-eaten in appearance, who
was on his way home from the office the day after his wedding.
On the wedding day itself he had also sat in the office and
written until three o'clock. After this he had gone out, and as
usual eaten his frugal midday meal at an unpretending restaurant
in a narrow street, and then had gone home to his upper cham-
ber in an old house in the Österlånggata, in order to get his
somewhat worn dress coat, which had done good and faithful serv-
ice for twelve years. He had speculated a good deal about buy-
ing a new coat for his wedding day, but had at last arrived at
the conclusion that, all in all, it would be a superfluous luxury.
The bride was a telegraph operator, somewhat weakly, and
nervous from labor and want, and of rather an unattractive ex-
terior. The wedding took place in all quietness at the house of
the bride's old unmarried aunt, who lived in Söder. The bride
a black-silk dress, and the newly married pair drove
home in a droschke.
So the wedding day had passed, but now it was the day after.
From ten o'clock on he had sat in his office, just as on all other
days. Now he was on the way home his own home!
That was a strange feeling; indeed, it was such an overpower-
ing feeling that he stood still many times on the way and fell
into a brown study.
A memory of childhood came into his mind.
He saw himself as a little boy, sitting at his father's desk in
the little parsonage, reading fairy tales. How many times had he
read, again and again, his favorite story out of the Arabian
Nights of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves! How his heart
had beaten in longing suspense, when he stood with the hero of
the story outside the closed door of the mountain and called,
first gently and a little anxiously, afterwards loudly and boldly:
Sesame, Sesame! Open Sesame! ”
And when the mountain opened its door, what splendor! The
poor room of the parsonage was transformed into the rich treas-
ure chamber of the mountain, and round about on the walls
gleamed the most splendid jewels. There were, besides horses
and carriages, beautifully rigged ships, weapons, armor - all the
## p. 5165 (#337) ###########################################
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
5165
best that a child's fantasy could dream. His old father looked
in astonishment at his youngest child, it was so long since he
himself had been a child, and all the others were already grown
up. He did not understand him, but asked him half reprovingly
what he was thinking about, that his eyes glistened so.
Thus he also came to think about his youth, about his student
years at Upsala. He was a poet, a singer; he had the name of
being greatly gifted, and stood high in his comrades' estimation.
What if any one had told him at that time that he should end as
a petty government clerk, be married to a telegraph operator,
and live in the Repslagaregata in Söder! Bah! Life had a
thousand possibilities. The future's perspective was illimitable.
Nothing was impossible. No honor was so great that he could
not attain it; no woman so beautiful that he could not win her.
What did it signify that he was poor, that he was only named
Andersson, and that he was the eighth child of a poor parson,
who himself was peasant-born ? Had not most of the nation's
gifted men sprung from the ranks of the people ? Yes, his en-
dowments, they were the magic charm, the Open Sesame! ”
which were to admit him to all the splendors of life.
As to how things, later on, had gone with him, he did not
allow himself to think. Either his endowments had not been as
great as he had believed, or the difficulties of living had stifled
them, or fortune had not been with him: enough, it had hap-
pened to him as to Ali Baba's wicked brother Casim, who stood
inside the mountain only to find out to his horror that he had
forgotten the magic charm, and in the anguish of death beat
about in his memory to recall it. That was a cruel time - but
it was not worth while now to think about it longer.
Rapidly one thought followed upon another in his mind. Now
he came to think upon the crown princess, who had made a royal
entrance into the capital just at this time. He had received per-
mission to accompany his superiors and stand in the festal pavil-
ion when she landed. That was a glorious moment. The poet's
gifts of his youth were not far from awakening again in the
exaltation of the moment; and had he still been the young
applauding poet of earlier days, instead of the neglected govern-
ment clerk, he would probably have written a festal poem and
sent it to the Post.
For it was fine to be the Princess Victoria at that moment.
It was one of the occasions that life has not many of. To be
## p. 5166 (#338) ###########################################
5166
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
nineteen years old, newly married to a young husband, loved and
loving, and to make a ceremonious entry into one's future capital,
which is in festal array and lies fabulously beautiful in the
autumn sun, to be greeted with shouts of joy by countless
masses of men, and to be so inexperienced in life that one has
no presentiment of the shadows which hide themselves back of
this bright picture — yes, that might indeed be an unforgettable
moment; one of those that only fall to the lot of few mortals, so
that they seem to belong more to the world of fable than to
reality! Had the magic charm, "Open Sesame! ” conjured up
anything more beautiful ?
And yet! yet! - The government clerk had neared his home
and stood in front of his own door. No, the crown prince was
surely not happier when he led his bride into his rejoicing capi-
tal, than was he at this moment. He had found again the long-
lost magic charm. The little knob there on the door — that was
his Open Sesame! ” He needed only to press upon it, when
the mountain would again open its treasures to him — not weap-
ons and gleaming armor as in his childhood — not honors and
homage and social position as in his youth—no, something better
than all these. Something that forms the kernel itself of all
human happiness, upon the heights of life as well as in its most
concealed hiding-places- a heart that only beat for him, his own
home, where there was one who longed for him—a wife! Yes,
a wife whom he loved, not with the first passion of youth, but
with the tenderness and faithfulness of manhood.
He stood outside his own door; he was tired and hungry, and
his wife waited for him at the midday meal; that was, to be
sure, commonplace and unimportant - and yet it was so wonder-
fully new and attractive.
Gently, cautiously as a child who had been given a new play-
thing, he pressed upon the little knob on the door - and then
he stood still with restrained breath and listened for the light
quick step that approached.
It was just as though in his childhood he stood outside the
mountain and called, first gently and half in fear, and then
loudly and with a voice trembling with glad expectation, «Sesame,
Sesame! Open Sesame ! »
Translated for (A Library of the World's Best Literature,' by William H.
Carpenter
1
## p. 5167 (#339) ###########################################
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
5167
A BALL IN HIGH LIFE
From A Rescuing Angel
T.
He counselor's wife sat down on the sofa with her hands
folded in her lap. Arla remained standing a little farther
away, so that the green lamp-shade left her face in shadow.
“My little girl,” began her mother in a mild voice, do not
feel hurt, but I must make a few remarks on your behavior
to-night. First of all, you will have to hold yourself a little
straighter when you dance. This tendency to droop the head
looks very badly. I noticed it especially when you danced with
Captain Lagerskiöld — and do you know, it looked almost as if
you were leaning your head against his shoulder. ”
Arla blushed; she did not know why, but this reproach hurt
her deeply.
«The dancing-teacher always said that to dance well one must
lean toward one's partner,” she objected in a raised voice.
“If that is so, it is better not to dance so well,” answered her
mother seriously. And another thing. I heard you ask Mr.
Örn to excuse you.
And you danced the cotillon after all. ”
“I suppose one has a right to dance with whom one pleases. ”
“One never has a right to hurt others; and besides, you said
to Mr. Örn that you were tired out and not able to dance again.
How could you then immediately after —
«Captain Lagerskiöld leads so well,” she said, lifting her head,
and her mother saw that her eyes were shining. “To dance
with him is no exertion. ”
Her mother seemed inclined to say something, but hesitated.
“Come a little nearer,” she said. « Let me look at you. "
Arla came up, knelt down on a footstool, hid her face in her
mother's dress, and began to cry softly.
"I shall have to tell you, then,” said her mother, smoothing
her hair. “Poor child, don't give yourself up to these dreams.
Captain Lagerskiöld is the kind of a man that I should have pre-
ferred never to have asked to our house. He is a man entirely
without character and principles - to be frank, a bad man. ”
Arla raised her tear-stained face quickly.
"I know that,” she said almost triumphantly. “He told me
so himself. ”
Her mother was silent with astonishment, and Arla continued,
rising, «He has never had any parents nor any home, but has
## p. 5168 (#340) ###########################################
5168
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
always been surrounded with temptations. And,” she went on
in a lower voice, he has never found any one that he could
really love, and it is only through love that he can be rescued
from the dark powers that have ruled his life. ”
She repeated almost word for word what he had said. He
had expressed himself in so commonplace a way, and she was so
far from suspecting what his confession really meant, that she
would not have been able to clothe them in her own words.
She had only a vague impression that he was unhappy and sin-
ful — and that she should save him. Sinful was to her a mere
abstract idea: everybody was full of sin, and his sin was very
likely that he lived without God. He had perhaps never learned
to pray, and maybe he never went to church or took the com-
munion. She knew that there were men who never did. And
then perhaps he had been engaged to Cecilia, and had broken
the engagement when he saw that he did not really love her.
“And all this he has told you already! ” exclaimed her mother,
when she got over her first surprise. “Well then, I can also
guess what he said further. Do you want me to tell you ? You
are the first girl he has really loved — you are to be his rescuing
angel-
Arla made a faint exclamation.
“You do not suppose I have been listening? ” asked her
mother. "I know it without that; men like this always speak
so when they want to win an innocent girl. When I was young
I had an admirer of this kind — that is not an uncommon experi-
1
ence. ”
Not uncommon! These words were
not said
to her only;
other men had said the same before this to other young girls!
Oh! but not in the same way, at any rate! thought Arla. As he
had said them — with such a look —- such a voice — no, nobody
else could ever have done that.
“And you didn't understand that a man who can make a
young girl a declaration of love the first time he sees her must
be superficial and not to be trusted ? ” continued her mother.
"Mamma does not know what love is,” thought Arla. « She
does not know that it is born in a moment and lasts for life.
She has of course never loved papa; then they would not be so
matter-of-fact now. ”
“And what did you answer? ” asked her mother.
Arla turned away. “I answered nothing,” she said in a low
voice.
## p. 5169 (#341) ###########################################
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
5169
( Then
was
The mother's troubled face grew a little brighter.
« That was right," she said, patting her on the cheek.
you left him at once. ”
Arla was on the point of saying, "Not at once, but she
could not make this confession. Other questions would then fol-
low, and she would be obliged to describe what had happened.
Describe a scene like this to her mother, who did not know
what love was! That was impossible! So she said yes, but in
so weak and troubled a voice that her mother at once saw it
was not true. This was not Arla's first untruth; on the con-
trary, she had often been guilty of this fault when a child. She
so shy and loving that she could not stand the smallest
reproach, and a severe look was enough to make her cry; conse-
quently she was always ready to deny as soon as she had made
the slightest mistake. But when her mother took her face be-
tween her hands and looked straight into her eyes, she saw at
once how matters stood, for the eyes could hide nothing. And
since Arla grew older she had fought so much against this weak-
ness that she had almost exaggerated her truthfulness.
She was
now as quick to confess what might bring displeasure on herself,
as if she were afraid of giving temptation the slightest room.
The mother, who with deep joy had noticed her many little
victories over herself, was painfully impressed by this relapse.
She could not now treat Arla as she had done when she was a
little girl. Instead of this, she opened the Bible by one of the
many book-marks, with a somewhat trembling hand.
“Although it is late, shall we not read a chapter together,
as we always do before we go to bed ? ” she asked, and looked
up at her daughter.
Arla stepped back, and cast an almost frightened glance at
the little footstool where she had been sitting at her mother's
knee every evening since she was a little girl. All this seemed
now so strange - it was no longer herself, it was a little younger
sister, who used to sit there and confess to her mother all her
dreams and all her little sorrows.
“I don't want to — I cannot read to-night. ”
Her mother laid the book down again, gave her daughter a
mild, sad look and said, “Then remember, my child, that this
was the consequence of your first ball. ”
Arla bent her head and left the room slowly. Her mother
let her go; she found it wisest to leave her to herself until her
IX—324
.
## p. 5170 (#342) ###########################################
5170
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
emotion had somewhat worn itself out. Arla would not go into
her own room; she dreaded Gurli's chatter; she had to be alone
to get control over her thoughts. In the drawing-room she
found her father.
“Is mamma in her room ? ” he asked.
« Yes. ”
“Is she alone ? Are the children asleep? ”
“Yes, mamma is alone. ”
“Well! Good-night, my girl. ” He kissed her lips and went
into the bedroom.
Arla opened a window in the drawing-room to let out the hot
air, and then began to walk up and down wrapped in a large
shawl, enjoying the clear cold winter moonlight, which played
over the snow and hid itself behind the trees in the park outside
the window. There they were to meet to-morrow! Oh, if only
he had said now, at once! If only she could slip out now in her
thin gown, and he could wrap his cape around her to keep her
warm — she did not remember that the men of to-day did not
wear capes like Romeo — and if then they could have gone away
together - far, far away from this prosaic world, where nobody
understood that two hearts could meet and find each other from
the first moment.
She was not left alone long; a door was opened, light steps
came tripping, and a white apparition in night-gown stood in the
full light of the moonbeam.
“But Arla, are you never, never coming ? ”
“Why, Gurli dear, why aren't you asleep long ago ? ”
“Eh? do you think I can sleep before I have heard some-
thing about the ball ? Come in now; how cold it is here ! »
She was so cold that she shivered in her thin night-gown, but
clung nevertheless to her sister, who was standing by the window.
"Go; you are catching cold. ”
"I don't care,” she said, chattering. “I am not going till you
come. ”
Arla was, as usual, obliged to give in to the younger sister's
strong will.
She closed the window and they went into their
room, where Gurli crept into bed again and drew the cover up
to her very chin. Arla began to unfasten her dress and take the
flowers out of her hair.
“Well, I suppose you had a divine time," came a voice from
the bed behind chattering teeth. There was nothing to be seen
## p. 5171 (#343) ###########################################
ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
5171
of Gurli but a pair of impatient dark eyes, under a wilderness of
brown hair.
Arla was sitting at the toilet-table, her back to her sister.
"Oh yes,” she said.
“I see on your card that you danced two dances with Captain
Lagerskiöld. I suppose he dances awfully well, eh? ”
“Do you know him ? ” asked Arla, and turned on the chair.
"Oh yes, I do. Didn't he ask for me?
“Yes, now I remember. He said he had seen you with the
children on the coasting-hill. You must have been a little rude
to him ?
The whole head came out above the cover now.
“Rude! how ? »
He said something about your being so pert. ”
“Pert? Oh, what a fib you do tell! » cried Gurli, and sat up
in bed with a jump.
"I don't usually tell stories,” said Arla with wounded dignity,
but blushed at the same time.
“Oh yes, you do now, I am sure you do. I don't believe
you, if you don't tell me word for word what he said. Who
began talking of me? And what did he say? And what did you
say ? )
You had better tell me why you are so much interested in
him,” said Arla in the somewhat superior tone of the elder sister.
« That is none of your business. I will tell you that I am no
longer a little girl, as you seem to think. And even though I
am treated like a child here at home, there are others who —
who- »
"Are you not a child ? ” said Arla. “You are not confirmed
yet. ”
“Oh, is that it ? That 'confirmation' is only a ceremony,
which I submit to for mamma's sake. And don't imagine that it
is confirmation which makes women of us; no indeed, it is some-
thing else. ”
“What then ? ” asked Arla, much surprised.
“It is - it is — love," burst out Gurli, and hid her head under
the covers.
“Love! But Gurli, how you do talk! What do you know
about that? You, a little schoolgirl! ”
"Don't say little schoolgirl — that makes me furious,” cried
Gurli, as she pushed the cover aside with both hands and jumped
## p. 5172 (#344) ###########################################
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ANNE CHARLOTTE LEFFLER EDGREN
out on the floor. « Then you are much more of a schoolgirl than
I. Is there perhaps any man who has told you that he loves
you? Is there ? »
"Oh, but Gurli, what nonsense,” said Arla laughing out-
right. "Has really one of Arvid's friends -->
«Arvid's friends! ” repeated Gurli with an expression of in-
describable contempt. “Do you think such little boys would
dare? Ph! I would give them a box on the ear,— that would be
the quickest way of getting rid of such little whipper-snappers.
No indeed; it is a man, a real man a man that any girl would
envy me.
She was so pretty as she stood there in her white gown, with
her dancing eyes and thick hair standing like a dark cloud around
her rosy young face, that a light broke on Arla, and a suspicion
of the truth flashed through her mind.
