Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - Ebba Dohna’s Story
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
Below is the raw OCR text
from the above scanned image.
Do you see an error? Proofread the page now!
Här nedan syns maskintolkade texten från faksimilbilden ovan.
Ser du något fel? Korrekturläs sidan nu!
This page has been proofread at least once.
(diff)
(history)
Denna sida har korrekturlästs minst en gång.
(skillnad)
(historik)
on the wayside, she made the coachman pull up and
took the wanderer into her sledge.
Gösta sat in the little blue cabinet, where you
have the lovely view northward over the lake, and
read poetry to her. There was no harm in it. He
did not forget what she was. A Countess! and he
was a homeless wanderer and adventurer; and it
did him good to associate with some one who stood
high and holy over him. He might as well think of
falling in love with the Queen of Sheba, who
decorated the front of the gallery in Svartsjö church, as
with the Countess Dohna.
He only desired to serve her as a page serves
his mistress—to be allowed to fasten on her skates,
hold her wool skeins, or steer her coasting sledge.
There could be no question of love between them,
but he was the kind of man to find pleasure in a
romantic, harmless sentiment.
The young Count was silent and serious, and
Gösta was gaiety itself. He was just the companion
the Countess desired. No one seeing her dreamed
of her cherishing an unlawful passion. She cared
only for dancing—dancing and gaiety. She would
like the world to be quite level, without any stones
or hills or lakes, so that you could dance over it all.
She would like to dance all the way from her cradle
to her grave in her narrow, thin-soled silken shoes.
But gossip is not very merciful toward young
women.
<< prev. page << föreg. sida << >> nästa sida >> next page >>
