Bildungsromans; Norway -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
glanced sharply from the side, at the stranger lady who had alighted,
and made her way between the goats to where his daughter was standing.
It was impossible, for the noise of the cattle, dogs, and bells, to
hear what they were saying, but now both the ladies were looking at
him, and with the goats around them they came towards the step. The
herdsman, on a sign from the dean, began to drive the cattle away.
Signe, his daughter, called out: (Petra was struck with the harmony of
her voice,) "Father, here is a lady travelling, who would like to rest
a day with us."--"She shall be welcome!" cried the dean in reply, gave
the dish to the lad, and went into his study, in the right wing of the
house, apparently to tidy himself. Petra followed the young lady into
the passage, which was more properly a hall, it was so light and broad;
the driver boy was dismissed, her things carried in, and she herself
shewn into a side room opposite the study, where she took off her
things, and went out again into the passage, to be further shewn into
the dining room.
What a large light room! Nearly the whole wall fronting the garden was
windows, the middle one opened as a door to the garden. The windows
were broad and high, reaching almost to the floor, and they were full
of flowers, plants stood upon stands here and there in the room, and
instead of curtains was interwoven ivy, hanging from two small hedges
of flowers up in the frame above. As there were bushes and flowers on
every side, growing up the walls, and on the greensward before her, it
seemed like a conservatory in the midst of the garden; and yet one had
not been a minute in the room, before the flowers were no longer seen;
for the church standing by itself on a hill to the right was what one
saw,--the blue waters reflecting its image, coursed sparkling on so far
away between the mountains that one could not tell whether it was a
lake, or an arm of the sea curving in. And then the mountains
themselves! Not single, but chains of mountains, each one rearing its
mighty front behind the other, as if the boundary of the world.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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