secular books into a large packing case and had them removed to the attic.
The Baroness, indeed, tried to be as obliging as she knew how. She was wise as well as gifted, and understood that all this was only a passing zeal with Karl Arthur; that the less he was opposed the sooner he would get over it.
Fortunately, it was summertime and the leading families were out of town, so that there were no social festivities going on. People went in for such simple pastimes as tramping in the woods, rowing on the river, berry-picking, and running-games.
However, toward the end of August, Eve Ekenstedt and her lieutenant were to celebrate their nuptials. Then the Baroness was quite concerned as to how the event would pass off. She had to give them a grand wedding; otherwise the Karlstaders would again be saying that she had no heart for her daughters.
Happily, her complaisance had a soothing effect upon Karl Arthur. He raised no objections to the proposed twelve-course dinner, or the garnished wedding cake, or the confections; he did not even protest against the wine and other potables ordered from Göteborg. Nor had he anything to say against a wedding at the cathedral and hanging garlands along the streets where the bridal procession was to pass, nor did he mind the magic lanterns, the tar casks, and the fireworks along the river bank. To tell the truth, he took a hand in the preparations; he laboured in the sweat of his brow at binding wreaths and nailing up flags, like any common mortal.
There was one thing, though, on which he stood firm. There must be no dancing at the wedding. This the Baroness promised, pleased to let him have his way in that, since he had been so decent about everything else.
The Colonel and the girls protested a bit; they wondered what they could do with all the beaux and belles, especially the young officers, if they were not allowed to dance all night. The Baroness assured them it would be a jolly evening anyhow. The young people would go out into the garden and listen to the regimental band, watch the rockets rise to heaven, and see the reflection of the pretty coloured lanterns in the waters of the river. What better entertainment could one wish for? Surely, this was a more dignified and fitting way to celebrate a marriage than to hop round on a dance floor! The Colonel and the girls gave in, as always, and the harmony of house remained undisturbed.
On the day of the wedding the arrangements were perfect. The weather was propitious, the ceremony at the church impressive, and the numerous speeches and toasts at the wedding dinner went well. The Baroness had composed a charming marriage song, which was sung at the table, and the Värmland Regimental Band, stationed in the butler’s pantry, struck up a march as each course was served. The guests, finding themselves generously regaled, were in festive mood.
But when they had risen from the table and had had their coffee, they were seized with an irresistible desire to dance.
The dinner had started at four o’clock and, well served as it had been by a special staff of butlers and waiters, it was over by seven. It seemed strange that the twelve courses, with the many toasts and fanfares and table songs, should have consumed but three hours! The Baroness had hoped the guests would remain seated at table till eight o’clock, and time to repair to the garden. Of course, there could be no talk of breaking up until midnight, and the guests grew restless as they thought of the long, dull hours before them.
“If only we might dance!” they sighed inwardly. (The Baroness had been thoughtful enough to let them know beforehand that there would be no dancing.) “How shall we amuse ourselves?” they wondered. “It will be dreadfully tiresome to sit and grind out small talk hour after hour.”
The young girls looked down at their sheer, light frocks and their white satin slippers. These were meant for dancing. Dressed like that, how could they think of anything else?
The young lieutenants of the Värmland Regiment were in great demand as dancing partners. During the winter season they had to attend so many balls they grew almost weary of dancing; and sometimes it was hard work to get them on to the floor. But all summer they had not been to a big dinner party; they were now thoroughly rested, and ready to dance all night and all day.
Rarely had they seen so many pretty girls as were gathered at this wedding. What kind of party was it, anyway? Fancy! inviting a lot of beaux and belles to the house and not allowing them to dance!
It was not only the young people who felt unhappy; their elders, too, thought it a pity the poor young things could not move about a bit so that they would have something to look at. Here were the best musicians in Värmland, and here, too, was the best ballroom; then, why in the world should one not take a little fling?
That Beata Ekenstedt, with all her amiability, had always been rather selfish, they thought. Because she herself was too old to dance, her young guests must sit about and adorn the walls.
The Baroness saw, heard, felt, and understood that her guests were displeased. Good hostess that she was, and accustomed to seeing everyone happy and gay at her parties, this situation was unspeakably trying. She knew that, next day and for many days thereafter, people would be talking about the Ekenstedt wedding and voting it the most tiresome affair they had ever attended.
To the older people, she made herself as agreeable as possible; she related her best anecdotes, came out with her wittiest sallies—but all in vain. They were in no mood to listen to her. The biggest old bore of a Fru at the wedding sat thinking to herself, if ever she were lucky enough to marry off a daughter of hers, she’d let the young folks dance, and the old folk, too.
To the younger ones she proposed running-games on the lawn. They simply stared at her. Running-games, forsooth, at a wedding! Had she been other than she was, they would have laughed in her face.
When the fireworks were to be touched off, the gentlemen offered an arm to the ladies for a stroll along the river bank. The young couples just dragged themselves on, hardly raising their eyes enough to follow the soaring rockets. They would accept no substitute for the pleasure they craved.
The harvest moon came rolling up, big and round and red, as if to heighten the brilliant spectacle. A wag remarked that it had swelled up with astonishment at seeing so many handsome young officers and lovely young damsels stand gazing into the river as if contemplating suicide.
Half Karlstad had gathered outside the garden wall to watch the “grand doings”; but seeing the young folk wander about, listless and indifferent, they all said it was the worst wedding they had ever beheld.
The regimental band did its utmost to lighten the gloom; but as the hostess had forbidden the playing of dance music, lest she find it impossible to hold the youths in leash, there were not many numbers on the programme. The same pieces had to be repeated again and again. It cannot be truthfully said that the hours dragged. Time stood still. The minute hand on all the clocks moved as slowly as the hour hand.
Out on the river, just beyond the Ekenstedt house, lay a couple of big barges, on one of which sat a music-loving sailor rasping out a peasant polka on a squeaky home-made fiddle.
And now all the poor souls who had suffered torment in the Ekenstedt garden brightened. This, at any rate, was dance music! They quickly stole out through the garden gate and, in a moment, were seen whirling round in a country polka on the tarry bottom of a river barge.
The Baroness soon noted the flight and the dancing. It would never do to let the best girls in Karlstad dance on a dirty freight boat. She immediately sent word to her young guests to come back to the house. Colonel’s lady though she was, even the youngest subaltern made no move to obey orders.
Then she gave it up as a lost game. She had done all that could be asked to please Karl Arthur; now she would have to save the reputation of
