Some four hours later, Arnfinn woke up with
a vague feeling as if some great calamity had
happened; he was not sure but that he had slept
a fortnight or more. He dressed with a sleepy,
reckless haste, being but dimly conscious of the
logic of the various processes of ablution which
he underwent. He hurried up to Strand's room,
but, as he had expected, found it empty.
During all the afternoon, the reading of "David
Copperfield" was interrupted by frequent
mutual condolences, and at times Inga's hand
would steal up to her eye to brush away a
treacherous tear. But then she only read the
faster, and David and Agnes were already safe
in the haven of matrimony before either she or
Arnfinn was aware that they had struggled
successfully through the perilous reefs and quick-
sands of courtship.
Augusta excused herself from supper, Inga's
forced devices at merriment were too transparent,
Arnfinn's table-talk was of a rambling,
incoherent sort, and he answered dreadfully
malapropos, if a chance word was addressed to him,
and even the good-natured pastor began, at last,
to grumble; for the inmates of the Gran Parsonage
seemed to have but one life and one soul in
common, and any individual disturbance immediately
disturbed the peace and happiness of the
whole household. Now gloom had, in some
unaccountable fashion, obscured the common
atmosphere. Inga shook her small wise head, and
tried to extract some little consolation from the
consciousness that she knew at least some things
which Arnfinn did not know, and which it would
be very unsafe to confide to him.
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