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Page 57
The Consul kept going and looking at the barometer, and tapping it to
see if the quicksilver was rising or falling: but, to tell the truth, it
did not seem to make much matter which it did; for the sky, the clouds,
the rain, and the storm had all got into such a jumble, that the weather
continued equally abominable, week after week, during the whole winter.
In the ship-yard work went on but slowly, for Garman and Worse were not
so new-fangled as to build under cover; but Mr. Robson still thought
that he would be ready by the appointed day, although the weather
certainly was "the very devil!"
But the person who most of all anathematized the weather, and indeed the
whole west coast, and everything that belonged to it, was our friend Mr.
Aalbom. When he left his house in the morning, the wind and rain would
persist in beating in his face, and when he came out of school, they
were so obliging as to follow him right up again to his very door. When
he had gone part of the way down the avenue, the wind managed to blow
down on the top of his umbrella, which, after many struggles, it finally
pressed down until his hat got jammed in among the ribs. Then all at
once it began the same tactics from below, and blew up under the
umbrella, and between the master's long legs, filling out the closely
buttoned waterproof, until it bid fair to blow it away altogether.
All October and November went on much in the same fashion, and people
who were given to jokes began to say that they had quite forgotten the
sun's appearance.
CHAPTER XV.
At last, one day well on in December, the dreadful weather seemed to
have worn itself out for a time. The sky was perfectly clear, and not
even the smallest cloud was to be seen which could give rise to
apprehension. During the night there had been a few degrees of frost,
and the roads, which had for a long time been nearly impassable, became
all at once hard and dry. On the puddles lay the first ice, as thin and
clear as glass, and the meadows were hoary with frost.
The chaplain was on his way to Sandsgaard, with his newly acquired smile
on his features. The lovely weather enlivened him, and made his thoughts
cheerful and full of hope; for the chaplain was going a-wooing.
It was fully two years since Martens had lost his first wife; he had
really regretted his loss, but now it was a long time ago. It would have
been quite improper, and not at all in accordance with the views of the
congregation, for so young a widower to remain single longer than was
absolutely required by the ordinary rules of society. Now, the chaplain
knew just as well as any one that a particular charm attaches to an
unmarried clergyman--that is, for a time; and he also fully agreed with
Dean Sparre, when he said a short time previously, "If a congregation is
to have the peaceful, comforting feeling that their souls are well cared
for, they should have the example of a peaceful, homely life before
their eyes, in the form of a motherly wife at the rectory, and even
better still, a family of happy children."
And besides, Pastor Martens was really in love. Madeleine Garman had
long ago, in fact as soon as ever she left Bratvold, taken possession of
his heart by her modest and natural demeanour; and no worldly
expectations mingled in the chaplain's affections. He knew that Richard
Garman had not a shilling, and he was sufficiently free from prejudice
to disbelieve the general report that Madeleine's father had never been
properly married to her mother. In Madeleine he hoped to find the
retiring and simple-minded woman for whom he was seeking, and latterly,
since her manners had become even more quiet, he had paid her greater
attention, and it appeared to him that she met him in a modest and
womanly manner.
On his arrival at Sandsgaard, he met Mrs. Garman in her room, and to her
he entrusted his secret. At first she did not seem to take to the idea,
but on second thoughts she appeared more favourably disposed. She
considered that sooner or later something of the kind must happen, and
it was perhaps just as well that the chaplain, who was already so dear
to her should become a member of the family. She therefore said, when
she had made up her mind--
"Well, Mr. Martens, if you really think that Madeleine will make you a
good wife in the eyes of God and man, I have nothing to do but give you
my very best wishes on the choice you have made. You will find Madeleine
in the green-room."
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