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One Day
by
Her servant brought in a letter; it was a Christmas card, in an envelope without a direction, from Aksel Aaroe–one of the usual Christmas cards, representing a number of young people in snow-shoes. Below was printed:
Winter white,
Has roses red.
On the other side, in a clear round hand, “In the woods to-day I could not but think of you. A. A..” That was all.
“That is like him, he says nothing more. When he passes a shop-window in which he sees such a card, he thinks of me; and not only does he think of me but he sends me his thoughts.” Or was she mistaken. Ella was diffident; surely this could not be misconstrued. The Christmas card–was it not a harbinger? The two young couples on it and the words–surely he meant something by that. His enraptured eyes again rose before her; they seemed not only to envelop her, but to caress her. She thought neither of past nor future; she lived only in the present. She lay wide awake that night looking at the moonlight. Now, now, now, was whispered. Had she but clung to the dream of her life, even when the reality had seemed so cruel, she would have held her own; because she had been uncertain about it, all had become uncertain. But the greater the suffering had been, the greater, perhaps, would be the bliss. She fell asleep in the soft white light, which she took with her into her dreams. She woke among light, bright clouds, which gathered round the glittering thought of what might be awaiting her to-day. He had not said a word. This bashfulness was what she loved the best of anything in him. It was just that which was the surest pledge. It would be to-day.
CHAPTER V
She took a long time over her bath, an almost longer time in doing her hair; out of the chest of drawers, which she had used as a child, and which still stood in its old place–out of its lowest drawer she took her finest underlinen. She had never worn it but once–on her wedding-day–before the desecration, never since. But to-day–Now, now, now! Not one garment which she put on had ever been touched by any one but herself. She wished to be what she had been in her dreams.
She went to the children, who were awake but not dressed.
“Listen, boys! To-day Tea shall take you to see grandmother.”
Great delight, shared by Tea, for this meant a holiday.
“Mamma, mamma!” she heard behind her, as she ran down to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, and then she was off. First she must get some flowers, then put off her lessons. For now, now, now!
Out in the street she remembered that it was too early to get anything, so she went for a walk, beyond the town, the freshest, the brightest, that she had ever taken. She came back again just as Fru Holmbo was opening her shop. As Ella entered the “flower-woman” was holding an expensive bouquet in her hand, ready to be sent out.
“I will have that!” cried Ella, shutting the door behind her.
“You!” said Fru Holmbo a little doubtfully; the bouquet was a very expensive one.
“Yes, I must have it;” Ella’s little green purse was ready. The bouquet had been ordered for the best house in the town, and Fru Holmbo said so.
“That does not matter,” answered Ella. Such genuine admiration of a bouquet had never been seen–and Ella got it.
From there she went to “Andresen’s at the corner.” One of the shopmen took lessons in book-keeping from her. She wished to put him off, and asked him to tell the whole of the large class. She asked him this with kindling eyes, and he gladly promised to do so. The daintiest red shawl was hanging just before her. She must have it to wear over her head to-day when she drove out; for that she would drive to-day there was no doubt. Andresen himself came up, just as she was asking about the shawl. He caught a glimpse of her bouquet, under the paper. “Those are lovely roses,” he said. She took one out at once, and gave it to him. From the rose he looked at her; she laughed and asked if he would take a little off the price of the shawl; she had not quite enough money left.