Emanuel, or Children of the Soil/Book 3, Chapter 14

Emanuel, or Children of the Soil (1896)
by Henrik Pontoppidan, illustrated by Nelly Erichsen, translated by Alice Lucas
Book III; Chapter XIV
Henrik Pontoppidan4520351Emanuel, or Children of the SoilBook III; Chapter XIV1896Alice Lucas (1855-1935)
CHAPTER XIV

In the meantime rumours of the engagement, had spread from the Parsonage all over the district, and by mid-day it had reached Skibberup. At first the people did not put much faith in it, but when it was discovered that the curate had been seen to go into Anders Jörgen's house in the morning and had not come out again, they began to waver. In the course of the last hour the most diverse faces, both children's and those of grown-up people, had been peeping over the garden wall and through the gate to pick up any scraps of information which could throw a light on the matter. While Else and Emanuel were in the best parlour, a pair of village wives ventured right into the brew-house, where they began a whispered conversation with the labourer's wife.

The Day of the Engagement.

When by these means the rumour was confirmed, there was universal delight in the village. Nobody could now keep back, but all must needs press to the fence, so as if possible to catch a glimpse of the newly-affianced pair; and when Else and Emanuel returned to the living-room, they found a couple of intimate friends already seated there, waiting to offer their good wishes.

They were shortly followed by others, and it soon became apparent that Else's fears about gossip and jealousy were groundless. They all looked upon the event as a kind of honour shown to the whole congregation, nay, even to the whole peasant class; a living seal to the alliance formed the day before at the Meeting House.

Hansine, who came in from her room immediately after the first visitors arrived, did not by her manner give any cause for offence. Whilst her friend did not quit her side, but kept her arm shelteringly round Hansine's waist, with a triumphant expression, she herself shyly and shrinkingly received the congratulations of her friends in silence.

The room was crammed all the afternoon with proud and delighted villagers. After a time they were obliged to throw both doors and windows open to get a little fresh air into the stifling atmosphere. The coffee pot was kept boiling all the afternoon. Even Hansen the weaver appeared at last, and greeted the young couple with his distorted and ambiguous smile.

Emanuel was thrown into a curious state of mind at receiving the congratulations of all these people before he had had any real talk with Hansine, nay, before he had even had her consent from her own lips. He began to be almost jealous of that big red-haired friend who had planted herself there by her side like a guard, and who sat caressing Hansine's hand in her lap as if they were the two who were engaged. He was speculating all the time how he should manage to get Hansine out of this person's power and have her to himself.

At last he took an opportunity of getting near enough to ask her, without any of the others hearing, if they should not go and walk in the garden together.

She rose at once. But Ane followed. It was just as if she—Hansine's dearest friend—felt herself entitled to share their confidences. This time Emanuel had some difficulty in controlling his impatience, and after they had walked about for a few minutes, he proposed returning to the sitting-room.

But just as they were going in, he laid his hand on Hansine's arm and said:

"There is something I want to talk to you about, Hansine."

He saw that she trembled. This time she understood his hint. After a moment's hesitation she drew her hand out of her friend's arm and said:

"Will you go in and help mother with the coffee, I am coming directly."

Ane first looked at them in amazement, and then her face took an expression which was meant to show that she felt herself deeply wronged. Without a word, she turned away and left them. Hansine and Emanuel went slowly back the way they had come. Neither of them spoke. But when they reached the summer-house at the furthest end of the garden, where no one could see them except a little goldfinch piping among the foliage, he took both her hands and stood for a long time silently looking at her. She was pale, and once or twice looked up shyly and hurriedly at him. She waited for him to speak. But as he only continued to gaze at her with his tender, searching glance, she at last involuntarily crept into his arms and shut her eyes, while he pressed his first kiss on her forehead.