ot the
family assembled in the sick-chamber, the young Consul was dead; calm
and precise as he had lived.

CHAPTER XXI.

The same morning Torpander was seen, going along the road which led to
Sandsgaard. Contrary to his usual custom, he had taken a holiday that
Monday. On his head he wore a grey felt hat of the particular shape
which was called in the trade "the mercantile." The hatter had assured
him that it had been originally made for Mr. Morten Garman, but that it
was unfortunately just a trifle too small. The hat, however, exactly
fitted Torpander, and dear as it was, he bought it; and he could not
help noticing the coincidence, that he was that day wearing a hat which
Morten Garman had rejected. He had also bought a coat for the occasion,
not quite new, it is true, but of a most unusual light-brown hue. The
trousers were the worst part of the costume, but the coat was long
enough, in a great measure, to hide them. Torpander could well enough
have bought trousers as well, but he did not wish to trench too deeply
on his savings, before he saw how it fared with him that day. If all
went well she should have everything he possessed, and if it went badly
he would return at once to Sweden, for he could bear the suspense no
longer. He had not, truth to say, great hopes as to his ultimate
success. He had heard a report that Marianne was unwell, but perhaps she
was upset by the disgrace which Martin had brought upon the family. The
fact that he was making his proposal at that particular time might be a
point in his favour; but no, he could not help feeling that such
happiness was almost bewildering.

It was a lovely sunshiny day, and the tall light-brown form went briskly
on its way, moving its arms unconsciously, as if rehearsing the scene
which was shortly to follow. In the left-hand pocket of his coat he had
a silk handkerchief, which had long been his dream, of a bright orange
colour with a light-blue border, and of which the corner was seen
protruding from his pocket. It was not at all his intention to put the
handkerchief to its legitimate use; for that purpose he had a red cotton
one, adorned with Abraham Lincoln's portrait. The silk handkerchief was
to be used only for effect, and every time he met any one in the avenue
before whom he thought it worth while to show off, and that was nearly
every passer-by, he drew the brilliant handkerchief from his pocket,
raised it carefully to his face, and let it fal