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gone, and the eye which was held by their splendor and
beauty is free to look about and gaze far out over the world
which was once reflected in the glassy bubble.
The number of guests in the castle increased day by day.
The rehearsals of the ballet were under way, and the
dancing-masters and play-actors, Pilloy and Kobbereau, had
been summoned to give instruction as well as to act the
more difficult or less grateful rôles.
Marie Grubbe was to take part in the ballet and
rehearsed eagerly. Since that day at Slangerup, she had been
more animated and sociable and, as it were, more awake.
Her intercourse with those about her had always before
been rather perfunctory. When nothing special called her
attention or claimed her interest, she had a habit of slipping
back into her own little world, from which she looked
out at her surroundings with indifferent eyes; but now she
entered into all that was going on, and if the others had
not been so absorbed by the new and exciting events of
those days, they would have been astonished at her changed
manner. Her movements had a quiet assurance, her speech
an almost hostile subtlety, and her eyes observed
everything. As it was, no one noticed her except Ulrik Frederik,
who would sometimes catch himself admiring her as if she
were a stranger.
Among the guests who came in August was Sti Högh,
the husband of Marie’s sister. One afternoon, not long
after his arrival, she was standing with him on a hillock in
the woods, from which they could look out over the village
and the flat, sun-scorched land beyond. Slow, heavy clouds
were forming in the sky, and from the earth rose a dry,
bitter smell like a sigh of drooping, withering plants for the
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