Then everybody roared. The clerks all crowded round the Lieutenant, and from the inner rooms came a finely dressed woman--the wife of the goldsmith--who wanted to know what the fun was about. Fru Lagerlöf and Mamselle Lovisa were so mortified they could have wished themselves back in the jolting carriage on the Karlstad road, or the rocking boat on stormy Vänern--anywhere but in that fine shop! “Come now, Gustaf,” they urged, “for pity’s sake let us get out of here!” “No, no, please don’t go!” begged the goldsmith in his most persuasive tone. “We should be so happy to show you what we carry here.” He gave orders to the clerks, who ran up ladders and brought down everything from the shelves, opened cabinets, and took out all their contents, so that the long counter was literally covered with gold and silverware. The shop-keeper and his wife took up each article and showed it to the strangers, explaining its workmanship and what it was for. Lieutenant Lagerlöf drew off his spectacles and polished the lenses with his silk handkerchief, the better to see. He picked up heavy silver tankards and examined their ornamentations, admiring and praising them. “I say, Lovisa, this is worse than at the Deanery in Sunne!” he remarked to his sister. Another time he held a large silver salver before the eyes of Back-Kaisa. “The Giant of Åsbergen doesn’t dine off finer plate--eh, Kaisa?” he said. The clerks sniggered and joked among themselves, having fun at his expense. The goldsmith and his wife were also enjoying themselves, but in a different way. They were friendly, and liked the Lieutenant. It was not long before they knew who he was, and whom he had with him; that he was on his way to Strömstad to seek a cure for a child who had some hip trouble and could not walk. Fru Lagerlöf and Mamselle Lovisa, seeing that all went well, composed themselves and began to look at and delight in the display. Fru Lagerlöf was pleased to find an old design in silver spoons, such as they once had in her parental home, and Mamselle Lovisa became quite as enraptured with a sugar bowl as she had been shortly before with the swansdown hat. When they had finally seen enough and were saying good-bye, it seemed almost as if they were parting from old friends. The goldsmith, his wife, and all the clerks followed them out into the street. Passers-by must have thought they had made purchases amounting to thousands of kronor. “I really must apologize,” said Lieutenant Lagerlöf, putting out his hand in a final farewell. “Don’t think of it, Lieutenant!” answered the goldsmith. “But we have put you to so much trouble,” Fru Lagerlöf interpolated in a deprecating tone. “We have had a most enjoyable hour,” the goldsmith assured her, “so don’t be uneasy about us! One has to do something for one’s own pleasure, now and then, though one does stand in a shop.”