air." The
Landed-proprietor steps in, bows, snorts, and kisses the hand of the
"gracious aunt."

Landed-proprietor. Very cold this evening; I fancy we shall have frost.

Elise. It is a gloomy spring. We have lately read a most affecting
account of the famine in the northern provinces. It is the misfortune of
these late springs.

Landed-proprietor. Oh, yes, the famine up there. No, we'll talk of
something else--that's too gloomy. I've had my peas covered with straw.
Cousin Louise, are you fond of playing Patience? I am very fond of it
too; it is so composing. At my seat at Oestanvik I have little, little
patience-cards. I fancy really that they would please my cousin.

The Landed-proprietor seats himself on the other side of Louise: the
Candidate gives some extraordinary shrugs.

Louise. This is not patience, but a little witchcraft, by which I read
Fate. Shall I prophesy to you, Cousin Thure?

Landed-proprietor. Oh, yes! prophesy something to me. Nothing
disagreeable! If I hear anything disagreeable in an evening, I always
have bad dreams at night. Prophesy me prettily--a little wife--a wife as
lovely and as amiable as Cousin Louise.

The Candidate (with a look as if he would send the Landed-proprietor
head-over-heels to Oestanvik). I don't know whether Mamselle Louise
likes flattery.

Landed-proprietor (who seems as if he neither heard nor saw his rival).
Cousin Louise, are you fond of blue?

Louise. Blue? That is truly a lovely colour; but yet I prefer green.

Landed-proprietor.. Nay, that is good! that is excellent! At Oestanvik
my dressing-room furniture is blue, beautiful light blue silk damask;
but in my sleeping-room I have green moreen. I fancy really, Cousin
Louise, that----

The Candidate coughs, and then rushes out of the room. Louise looks
after him, sighs, and then examines the cards, in which she finds so
many misfortunes for Cousin Thure that he is quite terrified: the peas
frosted, conflagration in the dressing-room, and last of all a
rejection! The Landed-proprietor declares, notwithstanding, that he
finds nothing of this unpleasant. The sisters smile, and make remarks.

THIRD SCENE.

The family assembled after supper:

The Assessor puts the question--What is the bitterest affliction?

Jacobi. Unreturned love.

Petrea. Not to know what one shall be.

Eva. To have offended some one that one loves beyond reconciliation.

The Mother. I am of Eva's opinion; I think nothing can be mo