She did not understand that the slight jest had cost him some effort, and she could not refrain from answering in turn, “I saw the ladies up along the road; I suppose that’s where you’ve been, trailing after them?” “And what’s that to do with you?” “Ove!” “Why don’t you go away somewhere else? You can see for yourself it’s no good going on like this.” “It would be all right as ever, if only you weren’t such a jewel to go flaunting about with all the womenfolk.” “Do you want to drive me out of my wits?” he cried. “Good-night!” Jomfru van Loos called after him, “Ho, yes, you are a nice one, indeed! There’s this and that I’ve heard about you!” Now was there any sense at all in being so desperately particular? And couldn’t a poor soul have a little genuine heartache to bear with into the bargain? The end of it was, that Rolandsen went into the office, straight to the instrument, called up the station at Rosengaard, and asked his colleague there to send him half a keg of cognac with the next consignment coming down. There was no sense in going on like this for ever. [Illustration] VII Elise Mack stays some little while at the factory this time. She has left the big house at Rosengaard and come out here wholly and solely to make things a little comfortable for her father during his stay. She would hardly set her foot in the village at all if she could avoid it. Elise Mack was growing more and more of a fine lady; she wore red and white and yellow gowns, and people were beginning to call her _Frøken_, though her father was neither priest nor doctor. A sun and a star she was above all others. She came to the station with some telegrams to be sent; Rolandsen received her. He said nothing beyond the few words needed, and did not make the mistake of nodding as to an acquaintance and asking how she was. Not a single mistake did he make. “It says ‘ostrich feathers’ twice in this. I don’t know if it’s meant to be that way.” “Twice?” said she. “Let me look. Oh no, of course not; you’re quite right. Lend me a pen, would you mind?” She took off her glove, and went on speaking as she wrote. “And that’s to a merchant in town; he’d have laughed at me ever so. There, it’s all right now, isn’t it?” “Quite right now.” “And so you’re still here?” she said, keeping her seat. “Year after year and I find you here.” Rolandsen had his reasons, no doubt, for staying on at this little station instead of applying for a better post. There must be something that held him to the place, year after year. “Must be somewhere,” he answered. “You might come to Rosengaard. That’s better than here, surely?” The faintest little blush spread over her cheeks as she spoke; perhaps she would rather have left that unsaid. “They wouldn’t give me a big station like that.” “Well, now, I suppose you are rather too young.” “It is kind of you, anyhow, to think it’s because of that.”