The members of Carl’s commission, with their president, were invited out there one day, and it was made a great occasion, all the resources of the house being brought into requisition to do them honour.

Carl, although the youngest member of the Commission, and really only included in it to make up the required number, had been fortunate enough to distinguish himself upon it; and his sisters even thought that there might be a question of an order for him—­that distinction so coveted in Norway—­if they made love sufficiently to the president.  Carl professed to be quite superior to a mere external decoration of the kind, though longing for it in his heart; and Marie Forstberg, whom he had not taken into his confidence in the matter, was highly indignant with his sisters for supposing that it should depend upon the president, and not upon Carl’s own merit, whether he received it or not.  Mina, however, had declared, with a great air of knowledge of the world, that people couldn’t trust to merit alone, and that, besides (and here she had laid her hand flatteringly on her friend’s shoulder), they were not all so strict and high-principled as Marie Forstberg; and so she paid her court to the president accordingly.

In the evening, when the gentlemen were sitting together out in the wood, and Elizabeth came out to them with a fresh supply of hot water for their toddy, the said president thought proper to make a joke that brought the colour to her cheeks.  She made no reply, but the water-jug trembled in her hands as she put it down, and as she did so she gave the speaker such a look that for a moment he felt cowed.

“’Sdeath, Beck!” he broke out, “did you see the look she gave me?”

“She is a proud girl,” said Carl, who was highly incensed, but who had his reasons for restraining himself before his superior.

“A proud girl indeed!” returned the other, in a tone which implied very clearly that in his opinion impudent hussy would have been the more correct description.

“A good-looking girl, I mean,” said Carl, evasively, by way of correction, and laughed constrainedly.

Elizabeth had heard what he said.  She was hurt, and for the first time instituted a comparison between him and Salve.  If Salve had been in his place, he would not have got out of it in that way.

Later on in the evening Carl met her alone, as she was putting things to rights out on the steps after the departed guests, and he said half-anxiously—­

“I hope you didn’t mind what that blustering old brute said, Elizabeth.  He is a very good fellow really, and doesn’t mean anything by his nonsense.”

Elizabeth was silent, and tried to avoid answering by going in with what she had in her hands.

“Come, I won’t stand your being offended, Elizabeth,” he broke out suddenly, firing up in a moment, and trying to catch her by the arm.  “That hand you work with is dearer to me than the hands of all the fine ladies put together.”