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The Eternal Feminine
by
“I am glad you interrupted me,” he said, “for you give me an opening to state that the Kronprinds has nothing to do with the story. You, of course, would have left him out; but I am only an amateur, and I get my threads mixed.”
“Shut up!” I cried. “I mean–go on.”
“Oh, well, perhaps, he has got a little to do with the story, after all; for after that, Froeken Jensen became more important–sharing in my reflected glory–or, perhaps, now I come to think of it, it was only then that she became important. Anyway, important she was; and, among others, Axel Larson–who was got up as an ancient Gallic warrior, to show off his fine figure–came up and asked me to introduce him. I don’t think I should have done so ordinarily, for he was the filthiest-mouthed fellow in the atelier–a great swaggering Don Juan Baron Munchausen sort of chap, handsome enough in his raffish way–a tall, stalwart Swede, blue-eyed and yellow-haired. But the fun of the position was that Axel Larson was one of my Cinderella’s ‘children,’ so I could not resist introducing him formally to ‘Froeken Jensen.’ His happy air of expectation was replaced by a scowl of surprise and disgust.
“‘What, thou, Ingeborg!’ he cried.
“I could have knocked the man down. The familiar tutoiement, the Christian name–these, perhaps, he had a right to use; but nothing could justify the contempt of his tone. It reminded me disagreeably of the ugliness I had nigh forgotten. I felt Ingeborg’s arm tremble in mine.
“‘Yes, it is I, Herr Larson,’ she said, with her wonted gentleness, and almost apologetically. ‘This gentleman was good enough to bring me.’ She spoke as if her presence needed explanation–with the timidity of one shut out from the pleasures of life. I could feel her poor little heart fluttering wildly, and knew that her face was alternating from red to white beneath the mask.
“Axel Larson shot a swift glance of surprise at me, which was followed by a more malicious bolt. ‘I congratulate you, Ingeborg,’ he said, ‘on the property you seem to have come into.’ It was a clever double entente–the man was witty after his coarse fashion–but the sarcasm scarcely stung either of us. I, of course, had none of the motives the cad imagined; and as for Ingeborg, I fancy she thought he alluded merely to the conquest of myself, and was only pained by the fear I might resent so ludicrous a suggestion. Having thrown the shadow of his cynicism over our innocent relation, Axel turned away highly pleased with himself, rudely neglecting to ask Ingeborg for a dance. I felt like giving him ‘Hail Columbia,’ but I restrained myself.
“Some days after this–in response to Ingeborg’s grateful anxiety to return my hospitality–I went to dine with her ‘children.’ I found Axel occupying the seat of honour, and grumbling at the soup and the sauces like a sort of autocrat of the dinner-table, and generally making things unpleasant. I had to cling to my knife and fork so as not to throw the water-bottle at his head. Ingeborg presided meekly over the dishes, her ugliness more rampant than ever after the illusion of the mask. I remembered now he had been disagreeable when I had dined there before, though, not being interested in Ingeborg then, I had not resented his ill-humour, contenting myself with remarking to my friend that I understood now why the Danes disliked the Swedes so much–a generalisation that was probably as unjust as most of one’s judgments of other peoples. After dinner I asked her why she tolerated the fellow. She flushed painfully and murmured that times were hard. I protested that she could easily get another boarder to replace him, but she said Axel Larson had been there so long–nearly two years–and was comfortable, and knew the ways of the house, and it would be very discourteous to ask him to go. I insisted that rather than see her suffer I would move into Larson’s room myself, but she urged tremulously that she didn’t suffer at all from his rudeness, it was only his surface-manner; it deceived strangers, but there was a good heart underneath, as who could know better than she? Besides, he was a genius with the brush, and everybody knew well that geniuses were bears. And, finally, she could not afford to lose boarders–there were already two vacancies.