s bosom; but
she shook her head and motioned that she was too much out of breath and
must rest a little, whereupon he sat down at her side.

Tonio Kroeger looked at the two for whom he had suffered love of
yore--Hans and Ingeborg. It was they not so much by virtue of single
features and the similarity of their dress, as on the strength of their
likeness in race and type, this bright, steel-blue-eyed, fair-haired
stock, which suggested purity, serenity, and cheerfulness, and an at
once proud and simple, inviolable reserve ... He looked at them, saw
Hans Hansen stand there in his sailor suit as bold and as shapely as
ever, broad of shoulder and narrow of hip, saw how Ingeborg laughingly
tossed her head in a certain saucy fashion, and carried her hand, a
little girl's hand by no means especially slender or dainty, up to her
back hair in a certain fashion, so that the light sleeve slipped down
from her elbow,--and suddenly homesickness shook his breast with such
pain that he involuntarily retreated farther into the darkness, lest
any one see the quivering of his countenance.

Had I forgotten you? he asked. No, never! Not you, Hans, nor you, blond
Inga. It was you for whom I worked, and when I heard applause, I
secretly looked about me to see if you had any part in it ... Have you
now read _Don Carlos_, Hans Hansen, as you promised me at your garden
gate? Do not do so, I no longer ask it of you. What is the king to you,
weeping because he is lonely? You must not make your bright eyes dull
and dream-dimmed by staring into verses and melancholy ... To be like
you! To begin once more, grow up like you, honest, happy, and simple,
regular, orderly, and in agreement with God and the world, to be loved
by the innocent and happy, to take you to wife, Ingeborg Holm, and have
a son like you, Hans Hansen,--to live, love, and laud in blessed
prosaic bliss, free from the curse of knowledge and of creative
torment!... Begin again? But it would do no good. It would turn out the
same way again,--everything would be just as it has been this time. For
some go astray of necessity, because there, is absolutely no right way
for them.

Now the music stopped, there was an intermission, and refreshments were
served. The mail clerk hurried about in person with a tea-tray of
herring salad, serving the ladies; but before Ingeborg Holm he actually
dropped on one knee as he offered her the dish, making her blush for
joy.

The people in the hall now