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Page 52
CHAPTER XVII.
RAGNAR.
Autumn arrived.
The valley was strewn with yellow leaves. The birds had ceased their
songs. The grass had withered. Rains and storms had discolored the
fountain. Yet, although Nature seemed to have been engaged in
contentious strife, still joy reigned supreme within the little cottage.
Ragnar, the beloved husband, the darling son, had returned. Seated in
the midst of his children beside his lovely wife, and with his arm
encircling her waist, he listened with a countenance changing from
cheerfulness to solemnity to a recital of all that had transpired during
his absence.
As soon as Mr. Lonner, for he was the narrator, had concluded, Ragnar
advanced and enfolded the old man in his arms.
"What viper did this? I have a strong suspicion--to cast such an old man
into prison--and I was away from you, unable to protect you and these
weak and deserted women."
As he thus spoke, his countenance glowed with indignation.
A slight cough at the other side of the room attracted Ragnar's
attention. It was Carl.
"I understand you, Carl," said he, "you must pardon me. I forgot myself
when I said the women were deserted."
And the frank and honest Ragnar, whose ruddy brown countenance bespoke
his health, advanced and extended his hand to Carl, who with a face as
sickly and yellow as the seared leaves without, was reclining upon the
sofa, watching the family group with a restless eye.
Poor Carl, each day he gradually faded, and his belief in the warning
voice he had heard in the church yard became firm and unwavering. He
accepted Ragnar's proffered hand with a grateful smile.
"How hot you are!" exclaimed Ragnar, "I will hasten to the village and
speak to the physician."
As Ragnar thus spoke, Carl laughed in his peculiar manner. "That will be
profitable indeed!" said he.
"Certainly it will, dear Carl," said Magde, approaching the sick youth,
"Ragnar is right."
"Ragnar is always right," said Carl, in an unusually sharp tone, "so
long as you please him you do not care if you neglect my wishes."
"What, Carl, do you not love your brother?" said Ragnar, in a tone of
reproach, at the same time pressing a kiss unobserved, as he thought,
upon his wife's lips. Ragnar always felt an inclination to conceal from
the observation of others the fact that he still loved his wife as he
had when he first wedded her, and therefore rarely caressed her when in
the presence of witnesses; but on this occasion, his affection was so
great that he could not resist the pleasure of stealing a kiss.
"Is not the entire room large enough for you to kiss in without my
seeing you?" said Carl, harshly, "I do not wish you to do so right
before me."
"Perhaps you envy me," said Ragnar, with a laugh. He had not given
Carl's expression a serious thought.
Carl lifted himself upon his elbow, and gazing full in his brother's
eyes, he replied slowly and firmly, "Yes."
"Why do you, Carl?" inquired Ragnar.
"Because I do not wish any body to kiss Magde--is it not so, Magde? You
well know how I behaved myself when Mr. Fabian H---- wanted to buy a
kiss of you."
"What! I believe the poor boy is mad! What! Buy a kiss of Magde! Poor
Carl!"
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