Irgens gets up and goes over to open a window, but a voice is raised in
protest; it is Mrs. Paulsberg's. "For Heaven's sake, no open windows. Come
away from the sofa; it is cooler further back!"

And Mrs. Hanka gets up. Her movements are undulating. When she stands up
she is like a young girl, with bold shoulders. She does not glance into
the large, cracked mirror as she passes; she exhales no odours of
perfumes; she takes, accidentally, her husband's arm and walks up and down
with him while the conversation and the refreshments keep the other guests
at the table.

Tidemand is talking, with somewhat forced liveliness, about a cargo of
grain, a certain Furst in Riga, a raise in customs duties somewhere.
Suddenly he says, bending toward her:

"Yes; I am very happy to-day. But, pardon me, you are hardly interested in
these things--Did you see Ida before you left? Wasn't she sweet in her
white dress? We'll get her a carriage when spring comes!"

"Yes; in the country! I am beginning to long for it already!" Mrs. Hanka
herself is animated. "You must get the garden and the grove fixed up. It
will be fine."

And Tidemand, who already has arranged to have the country-house put in
order, although it is not April yet, is delighted because of his wife's
sudden interest. His sombre eyes brighten and he presses her arm.

"I want you to know, Hanka, I am very happy to-day," he exclaims.
"Everything will be all right soon, I am sure."