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Page 44
A few evenings later while Gertrude and Mother Stina sat spinning
in the kitchen, the girl suddenly noticed that her mother was
getting uneasy. Every little while she would stop her spinning-wheel
and listen. "I can't imagine what that noise is," she said. "Do you
hear anything, Gertrude?"
"Yes, I do," replied the girl. "There must be some one upstairs in
the classroom."
"Who could be there at this hour?" Mother Stina flouted. "Only
listen to the rustling and the pattering from one end of the room
to the other!"
And there certainly was a rustling and a pattering and a bumping
about over their heads, that made both Gertrude and her mother
feel creepy.
"There must surely be some one up there," insisted Gertrude.
"There can't be," Mother Stina declared. "Let me tell you that this
thing has been going on every night since you danced here."
Gertrude perceived that her mother imagined the house had been
haunted since the night of the dance. If that idea were allowed to
become fixed in Mother Stina's mind, there would be no more dancing
for Gertrude.
"I'm going up there to see what it is," said the girl, rising; but
her mother caught hold of her skirt.
"I don't know whether I dare let you go," she said.
"Nonsense, mother! It's best to find out what this is."
"Then I'd better go with you," the mother decided.
They crept softly up the stairs. When they got to the door they
were afraid to open it. Mother Stina bent down and peeped through
the keyhole. Presently she gave a little chuckle.
"What pleases you, mother" asked Gertrude.
"See for yourself, only be very quiet!"
Then Gertrude put her eye to the keyhole. Inside, benches and desks
had been pushed against the wall, and in the centre of the
schoolroom, amid a cloud of dust, Ingmar Ingmarsson was whirling
round, with a chair in his arms.
"Has Ingmar gone mad!" exclaimed Gertrude.
"Ssh!" warned the mother, drawing her away from the door and down
the stairs. "He must be trying to teach himself to dance. I suppose
he wants to learn how, so he'll be able to dance at the party," she
added, with smirk. Then Mother Stina began to shake with laughter.
"He came near frightening the life out of me," she confessed.
"Thank God he can be young for once!" When she had got over her fit
of laughing, she said: "You're not to say a word about this to
anybody, do you hear!"
***
Saturday evening the four young people stood on the steps of the
schoolhouse, ready to start. Mother Stina looked them over
approvingly. The boys had on yellow buckskin breeches and green
homespun waistcoats, with bright red sleeves. Gunhild and Gertrude
wore stripe skirts bordered with red cloth, and white blouses, with
big puffed sleeves; flowered kerchiefs were crossed over their
bodices, and they had on aprons that were as flowered as their
kerchiefs.
As the four of them walked along in the twilight of a perfect
spring evening, nothing was said for quite a long time. Now and
then Gertrude would cast a side glance at Ingmar thinking of how
he had worked to learn to dance. Whatever the reason--whether it
was the memory of Ingmar's weird dancing, or the anticipation of
attending a regular dance--her thoughts became light and airy. She
managed to keep just a little behind the others, that she might
muse undisturbed. She had made up quite little story about how the
trees had come by their new leaves.
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