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Corinne, Madame de Staël’s Corinne. I don’t wish
it to be sold at auction.”
“I won’t fail.”
“Oh, Gösta, Gösta!” she said, and passed her
hand over his uncovered head. “You strongest and
weakest of men! For how long will you remember
that the happiness of these poor people lies in your
hands?”
Drawn by black Don Juan and followed by Tankred,
Gösta again flew along the highway, the spirit
of adventure flooding his soul. He felt himself
a conqueror, borne forward by enthusiasm. The
road took him past the parsonage at Svartsjö. He
drove through the gate and asked if he might drive
Anna Stjärnhök to the ball, and she consented.
It was a lovely, self-willed girl who took her seat
beside him. Who would not gladly ride behind Don
Juan?
The young people were silent at first; then Anna
opened the conversation—defiantly, as usual. “I
suppose you heard what the pastor gave out in
church to-day?”
“Did he say you were the loveliest girl between
Löfven and Klarälfven?”
“How stupid you are! People knew that without
his telling them. He published the banns for
me and old Dahlberg.”
“It is hardly likely I should have asked you to
drive with me if I had known.”
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