Mr. Hugo Lassen is,
of course, a chivalrous gentleman, and she his one and only love. And then
comes the time when she should walk on roses and live happily ever after!
"No, really, it would never do!" he exclaims, with a laugh. "If you won't
be my aunt, then you'll have to be my cousin."
"S-sh!" whispers Fruen. "Can't you get rid of that man there?"
Whereupon the engineer comes up to me with the luggage receipt in his
hand, and in his lordliest manner, as an Inspector of Waterways addressing
a gang of lumbermen, he says:
"Bring this along to the hotel."
"Very good," I answered, touching my cap.
I carried down the trunk, thinking as I went. He had actually invited her
to pass as his aunt! Visibly older she might be than he; still, here again
he had shown himself wanting in tact. I would not have said such a thing
myself. I would have declared to all and sundry: "Behold, here is come a
bright angel to visit King Hugo; see how young and beautiful she is; mark
the slow, heavy turn of her grey eyes; ay, a weighty glance! But there is
a shimmer of sea-fire in her hair--I love her! Mark her, too, when she
speaks, a mouth good and fine, and with ever and again a little helpless
look and smile.
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