Thereupon there occurred another long pause, during which Esben looked at all the chairs one after another, took one, and finally sat down. At that moment the mother and daughter entered, and the young man nodded to them with such an unaltered and tranquil air, that I should have thought he was quite indifferent to the beautiful Cecilia, had 1 not known that love, in a breast such as his, might be not the less strong that it lay concealed; that it is not the blaze, which flashes and sparkles, but the steady fire that burns and warms the longest.
Cecilia, with a sigh, placed herself at the farthest end of the table, and began immediately to knit; her mother condescended to say, “"Welcome, Esben!" as she settled herself at her spinning-wheel.
"Are you going on account of business?" drawled out the hosier at length.
"If any offers," replied the visitor. "One can but try what may be done in the south. My errand here is, to beg that you will not be in too great a hurry to get Cecil married, but will wait till I come back, and we can see what my luck has been."
Cecilia coloured, but continued to look stedfastly at her work. The mother stopped her spinning-wheel with one hand, laid the other on her lap, and looked hard at the speaker; but the father said, as he turned with a wink to me, "'While the grass grows'—you know the rest of the proverb. How can you ask that Cecil shall wait for you? You may stay very long away, perhaps, even—you may never come back."
"It is your own fault, Michel Krænsen!" replied Esben, with some impetuosity. "But listen to what I say; if you compel Cecil to marry any one else, you will do grievous wrong both to her and to me."
So saying, he arose, held out his hand to both the old people, and bade them a short and stiff farewell. To their daughter he said, but in a more tender and somewhat faltering voice, "Farewell, Cecil! and thanks for all your kindness. Think of me sometimes, unless you are obliged to God be with you, and with you all! Farewell!"
He turned towards the door, thrust his tobacco-pouch and pipe into his pocket, seized his hat, and went forth without casting one look behind. The old man smiled triumphantly, his wife sighed aloud an "Ah, dear!" as she set her spinning-wheel in motion again, but large tears rapidly coursed each other over Cecilia's now pale cheeks.
I had the greatest possible inclination to invite a discussion of the principle which actuated these parents in regard to their child's marriage. I could have reminded them, that wealth does not suffice to ensure happiness in married life; that the heart must also have its share; that prudence counsels to think more of integrity, industry, and a good disposition, than of mere riches. I could have remonstrated with the father (for the mother seemed at least neutral) on his harshness to his only daughter. But I knew the nature of the lower orders too well to waste useless words on such subjects; I knew that money takes precedence of everything else in that class; but—is it otherwise with other classes? I knew, moreover, the dogged firmness of the peasantry, approaching almost to obstinacy, especially when any controversy with one in a superior rank of life was in question, and that tho less they felt themselves able to argue, the more stiff-necked they became in adhering to their own notions. There came yet another reflection to prevent me, unbidden,
