Short stories, Swedish -- Translations into English; Sweden -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
'If she could only look down and see all the fuss you make of her,' Lisa
said, 'she would be pleased.'
'Ah!' said the Pastor's wife, 'I don't think she would ever be pleased
with me.'
'She is dead now,' said the girl, 'and I am not the one to say anything
against one who is hardly yet under the ground.'
'I have had to bear many a hard word from my husband for her sake,' said
the mistress.
The Pastor's wife felt she wanted to speak with someone about the dead
girl. Her conscience had pricked her a little on her account, and this
was why she had arranged such a grand funeral feast. She thought her
conscience might leave her alone now she had had so much trouble over
the funeral, but it did not do so by any means. Her husband also
reproached himself, and said that the young girl had not been treated
like one of their own children, and that they had promised she should be
when they adopted her; and he said it would have been better if they had
never taken her, when they could not help letting her see that they
loved their own children more. And now the Pastor's wife felt she must
talk to someone about the young girl, to hear whether people thought she
had treated her badly.
She saw that Lisa began to stir the pan violently, as if she had
difficulty in controlling her anger. She was a clever girl, who
thoroughly understood how to get into her mistress's good books.
'I must say,' Lisa began, 'that when one has a mother who always looks
after one, and takes care that one is neat and clean, one might at
least try to obey and please her. And when one is allowed to live in a
good Parsonage, and to be educated respectably, one ought at least to
give some return for it, and not always go idling about and dreaming. I
should like to know what would have happened if you had not taken the
poor thing in. I suppose she would have been running about with those
acrobats, and have died in the streets, like any other poor wretch.'
A man from Dalarne came across the yard; he had his pack on his back,
although it was Sunday. He came very quietly through the open
kitchen-door, and curtsied when he entered, but no one took any notice
of him. Both the mistress and the maid saw him, but as they knew him,
they did not think it necessary to interrupt their conversation.
The Pastor's wife was anxious to continue it; she felt she was about to
hear what she needed to ease her conscience.
'It is perhaps as well she is gone,' she said.
'Yes, ma'am,' the servant said eagerly; 'and I am sure the Pastor thinks
just the same. In any case he soon will. And the mistress will see that
now there will be more peace in the house, and I am sure the master
needs it.'
'Oh!' said the Pastor's wife, 'I was obliged to be careful. There were
always so many clothes to be got for her, that it was quite dreadful. He
was so afraid that she should not get as much as the others that she
sometimes even had more. And it cost so much, now that she was grown
up.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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