rather fond of you, Karl Arthur, but if Schagerström should propose I’d accept him.”
The guests went into shrieks, quite certain that she could never catch Schagerström. Karl Arthur laughed, too, knowing she had said it merely for the amusement of the company. The girl herself seemed horrified at what had fallen from her lips. Yet, there may have been a little thought back of her words; she had wished, perhaps, to frighten Karl Arthur a bit, to make him think of the headmastership he should be seeking.
As for Schagerström—he was too utterly sunken in grief to have any thoughts of matrimony. But going about in the world of affairs, he made many friends and acquaintances who advised him to marry again. To all, he invariably excused himself with the plea that he was so dull and mournful no one would have him. Nor would he listen to any assurances to the contrary.
But once, at a fellowship dinner which Schagerström had felt obliged to attend, the moot question was the main topic of conversation. When he came out with his usual retort, a neighbour from Korskyrka told about the young girl who had said she would “sack” her intended if Schagerström came a-wooing. Everyone laughed heartily at the story, treating it as a huge joke, just as they had done at the deanery.
To tell the truth, Schagerström had found it rather hard to get along without a wife; but his heart was still with the dear departed, and the mere idea of putting another in her place seemed abhorrent to him.
Now, after hearing about Charlotte Löwensköld, his thoughts took a new turn. Supposing he were to contract a sensible marriage; if, for instance, he should marry a meek, humble, guileless young girl, who would not usurp the first wife’s place in his heart nor aspire to the high social position which had been hers by reason of her wealth and family connections, then the idea of a second union would be no insult to the departed.
The next Sunday, Schagerström came to church to have a look at the young girl, who sat with the Dean’s wife in the rectory pew. She was simply and modestly attired and there was nothing very striking about her appearance. But that was no detriment. Quite the reverse. Had she been a dazzling beauty, he would never have thought of choosing her for wife. The departed could rest assured that her successor in nowise filled her place.
As Schagerström sat gazing at Charlotte, he wondered what she would say if he called at the deanery and asked her to be mistress of Stora Sjötorp. Of course, she never expected, when saying what she did, that he would propose. Therefore it would be interesting to see what she would do if he took her at her word.
Driving home from church, he wondered how Charlotte Löwensköld would look in fine clothes. All at once he found a certain allure in the thought of a second marriage. The idea of coming quite unexpectedly to bring good fortune to a poor young girl had a touch of romance about it which was far from displeasing. The moment Schagerström realized this, he put it away from him as a temptation. He had always thought of his sainted wife as having left him only for a short time, and that some day they would be reunited. Meanwhile, he must be true to her memory.
That night, in his dreams, Schagerström saw his sainted wife. He awoke full of the old tenderness. The doubts and misgivings that had arisen in his mind on the way home from church seemed now to have been quite needless. His love still lived. There was no fear that the simple-hearted girl he thought of taking to wife would efface from his soul the image of the departed. He needed a wise and capable woman in the home; one who would be a companion and a comfort. Any regular house manageress suitable for the position he had not been able to find, or a female relative either. He saw no way but to marry.
That very day he set out in great state for the deanery. During the past few years he had led such a solitary life, he had made no calls even there. As may be imagined, there was no little excitement when the black four-span turned in at the Dean’s gate. Schagerström was immediately conducted upstairs to the large salon, where he sat talking awhile with the Dean and his wife.
Charlotte Löwensköld had quietly stolen up to her room. In a few moments, the Dean’s wife came and asked her to join them in the salon. Ironmaster Schagerström was calling, and it was rather tiresome for him having no one to talk to but two aged persons.
The old lady looked a bit flustered, but solemn. Charlotte opened her eyes wide with surprise, but asked no questions. She untied her apron, dipped her fingers in the wash basin, smoothed back her hair, put on a fresh collar, then followed after the Dean’s wife. About to step out of the room, she turned back and put on her large apron again.
Charlotte had no sooner entered the salon and greeted Schagerström than she was requested to be seated. Whereupon the old Dean made her a little speech. He used many words, dilating upon the comfort and joy she had brought to the house. She had been as a dear daughter to him and his wife, and it would be hard for them to part with her. But now that a man like Ironmaster Gustaf Schagerström had come and asked for her hand in marriage, they must not think of themselves, but counsel her to accept an offer which was so much better than any she could have expected.
The Dean made no mention of the fact that she was already betrothed to his curate. Both he and his wife had been long opposed to this bond, and heartily wished it broken. A poor girl like Charlotte Löwensköld could not afford to tie herself up with a man who positively refused to seek a proper living.
Charlotte had listened without moving a muscle. The Dean, wishing to give her time to form a fitting reply, added a glowing eulogy of Schagerström. He spoke of his fine estates, his splendid achievements, his wonderful capabilities, his high ideals, and his kindness to his employees. He had heard so much good of Ironmaster Schagerström that, although this was his first visit to the deanery, he already regarded him as a friend into whose keeping he was glad to place the destiny of his young kinswoman.
All the while Schagerström sat regarding Charlotte, to see how she was taking his proposal. She suddenly straightened in her chair, threw back her head, her blue eyes turned almost black, and her lip curled in a scornful smile. Schagerström was struck with amazement. Charlotte Löwensköld was a beauty! And, moreover, a beauty who was neither meek nor humble.
Obviously, his offer had made a strong impression, but whether favourable or unfavourable, he hardly dared venture to guess.
However, he did not have to remain long in a state of uncertainty. The moment the Dean had finished, Charlotte Löwensköld spoke up:
“I wonder if Ironmaster Schagerström knows that I am engaged?”
“Oh, yes,” said Schagerström. Before he could utter another word, Charlotte continued:
“Then how can Ironmaster Schagerström have the audacity to come and propose to me!”
That was what she said; she used such a word as audacity when speaking to the richest man in Korskyrka. She had forgotten that she was only a poor lady’s-companion. Now she was the proud aristocrat, the Honourable Fröken Löwensköld.
The old Dean and his wife were so shocked they nearly fell off their chairs. Schagerström, too, looked somewhat surprised; but he was a man of the world and knew how to act in an embarrassing situation. He stepped up to Charlotte, took one of her small hands between his two, and pressed it warmly.
“My dear Fröken Löwensköld,” he said, “your answer only increases my respect and admiration for you as an individual.”
He bowed to the Dean and to the Dean’s wife, and indicated by a gesture that they need not speak or see him to his carriage. They, as well as Charlotte, marvelled at the dignity of the rejected suitor as he withdrew from the room.
