PAGE 21
The Bridal March
by
When she came out of the soeter-house in the morning, Beret was still sleeping. Hans was standing in the yard. He had been punishing the dog for rousing a ptarmigan, and it was now lying fawning on him. When he saw Mildrid he let the dog out of disgrace; it jumped up on him and her, barked and caressed them, and was like a living expression of their own bright morning happiness. Hans helped Mildrid and the boys with the morning work. By the time they had done it all and were ready to sit down to breakfast, Beret was up and ready too. Every time Hans looked at her she turned red, and when Mildrid after breakfast stood playing with his watch chain while she spoke to him, Beret hurried out, and was hardly to be found when it was time for the two to go.
“Mildrid,” said Hans, coming close to her and walking slowly, when they had got on a little way, “I have been thinking about something that I didn’t say to you yesterday.” His voice sounded so serious that she looked up into his face. He went on slowly, without looking at her; “I want to ask you if–God granting that we get each other–if you will go home with me after the wedding and live at Haugen.”
She turned red, and presently answered evasively:
“What will father and mother say to that?”
He walked on without answering for a minute, and then said:
“I did not think that mattered so much, if we two were agreed about it.”
This was the first time he had said a thing that hurt her. She made no reply. He seemed to be waiting for one, and when none came, added gently:
“I wanted us two to be alone together, to get accustomed to each other.”
Now she began to understand him better, but she could not answer. He walked on as before, not looking at her, and now quite silent. She felt uneasy, stole a glance at him, and saw that he had turned quite pale.
“Hans!” she cried, and stood still without being conscious of doing it. Hans stopped too, looked quickly at her, and then down at his gun, which he was resting on the ground and turning in his hand.
“Can you not go with me to my home?” His voice was very low, but all at once he looked her straight in the face.
“Yes, I can!” she answered quickly. Her eyes looked calmly into his, but a faint blush came over her cheeks. He changed his gun into his left hand, and held out the right to her.
“Thank you!” he whispered, holding hers in a firm clasp; Then they went on.
She was brooding over one thought all the time, and at last could not keep it in: “You don’t know my father and mother.”
He went on a little before he answered: “No, but when you come and live at Haugen, I’ll have time then to get to know them.”
“They are so good!” added Mildrid.
“So I have heard from every one.” He said this decidedly, but coldly.
Before she had time to think or say anything more, he began to tell about his home, his brothers and sisters, and their industry, affectionateness, and cheerfulness; about the poverty they had raised themselves from; about the tourists who came and all the work they gave; about the house, and especially about the new one he would now build for her and himself. She was to be the mistress of the whole place–but they would help her in everything; they would all try to make her life happy, he not least. As he talked they walked on faster; he spoke warmly, came closer to her, and at last they walked hand in hand.
It could not be denied that his love for his home and his family made a strong impression on her, and there was a great attraction in the newness of it all; but behind this feeling lay one of wrong-doing towards her parents, her dear, kind parents. So she began again: “Hans! mother is getting old now, and father is older; they have had a great deal of trouble–they need help; they’ve worked so hard, and–” she either would not or could not say more.