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that Marie Grubbe would bring her husband a
considerable fortune, and although Ulrik Frederik held
Vordingborg in fief, his love of pomp and luxury made constant
demands upon the King, who was always hard pressed
for money. Upon her marriage Marie would come into
possession of her inheritance from her dead mother,
Mistress Marie Juul, while her father, Erik Grubbe, was at
that time owner of the manors of Tjele, Vinge,
Gammelgaard, Bigum, Trinderup, and Nörbæk, besides various
scattered holdings. He was known as a shrewd manager
who wasted nothing, and would no doubt leave his
daughter a large fortune. So all was well. Ulrik Frederik could
go courting without more ado, and a week after
midsummer their betrothal was solemnized.
Ulrik Frederik was very much in love, but not with the
stormy infatuation he had felt when Sofie Urne ruled his
heart. It was a pensive, amorous, almost wistful
sentiment, rather than a fresh, ruddy passion. Marie had told
him the story of her dreary childhood, and he liked to
picture to himself her sufferings with something of the
voluptuous pity that thrills a young monk when he fancies the
beautiful white body of the female martyr bleeding on the
sharp spikes of the torture-wheel. Sometimes he would be
troubled with dark forebodings that an early death might
tear her from his arms. Then he would vow to himself
with great oaths that he would bear her in his hands and
keep every poisonous breath from her, that he would lead
the light of every gold-shining mood into her young heart
and never, never grieve her.
Yet there were other times when he exulted at the
thought that all this rich beauty, this strange, wonderful
soul were given into his power as the soul of a dead man
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