Читать книгу Charlotte Löwensköld - Selma Lagerlöf - Страница 4

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Schagerström had proposed!—Rich Schagerström of Stora Sjötorp!

No, but was it possible that Schagerström had proposed?

Oh, yes, it was very certain that Schagerström had proposed.

But how in the world came Schagerström to propose?

Well, it was like this: At Korskyrka Deanery there was a young girl named Charlotte Löwensköld, a distant relation of the Dean who acted as lady’s-companion to his wife, and who was betrothed to his curate.

Then what had she to do with Schagerström?

Charlotte Löwensköld, you see, was vital, blithe, and outspoken. The moment she set foot inside the deanery, it was as if a freshening breeze had swept through the old house. The Dean and his wife were elderly folk who had moved about the place as mere shadows of themselves, until she came and put new life into them.

The Curate was thin as a rail, and so pious he hardly dared eat or drink. The whole long day he attended to his clerical tasks, and all night he knelt beside his bed, and wept for his sins. He was about ready to give up the ghost, when Charlotte appeared and stopped him from destroying himself altogether.

But what has all this got to do with Scha——

You must know that when the Curate first came to the deanery, some five years back, he had but just been ordained and was unfamiliar with the duties pertaining to his office. It was Charlotte Löwensköld who initiated him. She had lived all her life at a parsonage, and knew pretty well everything that went with it. She not only taught him how to baptize children, but even how to preside at a vestry meeting. It was then they fell in love; and now they had been engaged fully five years.

But we are getting away entirely from Schagerström!

—Charlotte Löwensköld, you see, was exceedingly clever at planning and managing for others. They had not been long engaged before she learned that her fiancé’s parents did not like his being a cleric. They had wanted him to continue at the University until he had taken his master’s degree and then study for the doctorate. He had spent five years at Upsala, and in the following year would have become a magister, when he suddenly decided to take, instead, the examination for Holy Orders.

His parents were rich and a bit covetous of honours. It was a great disappointment to them that their son had chosen so modest a career. Even after he had entered the Church, they implored him to return to the University; but he gave them a positive No. Now, Charlotte knew that his prospects for promotion would be better if he obtained a higher degree; so she sent him back to Upsala.

As he was the worst old grind imaginable, she had him finished in four years. By that time, he had not only taken his licentiate, but was a full-fledged Doctor of Philosophy.

But what of Schagerström?

—Charlotte Löwensköld had figured out that her fiancé, after his graduation, would seek an appointment as headmaster at a gymnasium, where the remuneration would be sufficient to enable them to marry. If he needs must be a cleric, then in a few years’ time he could have a large benefice, as had been the case with Dean Forsius and others. But it did not turn out as Charlotte had expected. Her fiancé wished to enter the ministry at once and go the way of the ordinary cleric; so he came back to Korskyrka as stipendiary curate. Doctor of Philosophy though he was, his compensation was less than that of a stableman.

Yes, but Schagerström——

—You understand, of course, that Charlotte, who had already waited five years, could not be content with this. But she was glad her affianced had been sent to Korskyrka and was now living at the deanery, where she could see him every day.

But we are not hearing anything about Schagerström!

Neither Charlotte Löwensköld nor her fiancé had any affiliation with Schagerström, who moved in a different world from theirs. The son of a high official in Stockholm, he was himself a man of means. He had married the daughter of a Värmland ironmaster—heiress to so many foundries and ore fields that her dowry alone amounted to some two or three millions. The Schagerströms had resided in Stockholm and had spent only the summer months in Värmland. They had been married but three years when the wife died in childbirth and the widower removed to Stora Sjötorp, in Korskyrka. He mourned her loss so deeply he could not bear to stay at a place where she had lived. Schagerström was now rarely seen in society; but passed his time supervising the administration of his various estates and remodelling and beautifying Stora Sjötorp, so that it became the most magnificent place in Korskyrka. Alone as he was, he kept many servants and lived like a grand seigneur. Charlotte would as soon have thought she could take down the Seven Stars to set in her bridal crown as to marry Schagerström.

Charlotte Löwensköld, you see, was the sort who would say anything that came into her head. One day, when they had a coffee party at the deanery and there were many guests, it happened that Schagerström went driving by in his big open landau, drawn by four black horses, a liveried footman on the box beside the coachman. Naturally, they all rushed to the windows and stood gazing after him as far as their eyes could follow. When he was well out of sight, Charlotte turned to her betrothed, who was standing back in the room, and shouted out so that everyone could hear:

“I’m rather fond of you, Karl Arthur, but if Schagerström should propose I’d accept him.”

The guests went into shrieks, quite certain that she could never catch Schagerström. Karl Arthur laughed, too, knowing she had said it merely for the amusement of the company. The girl herself seemed horrified at what had fallen from her lips. Yet, there may have been a little thought back of her words; she had wished, perhaps, to frighten Karl Arthur a bit, to make him think of the headmastership he should be seeking.

As for Schagerström—he was too utterly sunken in grief to have any thoughts of matrimony. But going about in the world of affairs, he made many friends and acquaintances who advised him to marry again. To all, he invariably excused himself with the plea that he was so dull and mournful no one would have him. Nor would he listen to any assurances to the contrary.

But once, at a fellowship dinner which Schagerström had felt obliged to attend, the moot question was the main topic of conversation. When he came out with his usual retort, a neighbour from Korskyrka told about the young girl who had said she would “sack” her intended if Schagerström came a-wooing. Everyone laughed heartily at the story, treating it as a huge joke, just as they had done at the deanery.

To tell the truth, Schagerström had found it rather hard to get along without a wife; but his heart was still with the dear departed, and the mere idea of putting another in her place seemed abhorrent to him.

Now, after hearing about Charlotte Löwensköld, his thoughts took a new turn. Supposing he were to contract a sensible marriage; if, for instance, he should marry a meek, humble, guileless young girl, who would not usurp the first wife’s place in his heart nor aspire to the high social position which had been hers by reason of her wealth and family connections, then the idea of a second union would be no insult to the departed.

The next Sunday, Schagerström came to church to have a look at the young girl, who sat with the Dean’s wife in the rectory pew. She was simply and modestly attired and there was nothing very striking about her appearance. But that was no detriment. Quite the reverse. Had she been a dazzling beauty, he would never have thought of choosing her for wife. The departed could rest assured that her successor in nowise filled her place.

As Schagerström sat gazing at Charlotte, he wondered what she would say if he called at the deanery and asked her to be mistress of Stora Sjötorp. Of course, she never expected, when saying what she did, that he would propose. Therefore it would be interesting to see what she would do if he took her at her word.

Driving home from church, he wondered how Charlotte Löwensköld would look in fine clothes. All at once he found a certain allure in the thought of a second marriage. The idea of coming quite unexpectedly to bring good fortune to a poor young girl had a touch of romance about it which was far from displeasing. The moment Schagerström realized this, he put it away from him as a temptation. He had always thought of his sainted wife as having left him only for a short time, and that some day they would be reunited. Meanwhile, he must be true to her memory.

That night, in his dreams, Schagerström saw his sainted wife. He awoke full of the old tenderness. The doubts and misgivings that had arisen in his mind on the way home from church seemed now to have been quite needless. His love still lived. There was no fear that the simple-hearted girl he thought of taking to wife would efface from his soul the image of the departed. He needed a wise and capable woman in the home; one who would be a companion and a comfort. Any regular house manageress suitable for the position he had not been able to find, or a female relative either. He saw no way but to marry.

That very day he set out in great state for the deanery. During the past few years he had led such a solitary life, he had made no calls even there. As may be imagined, there was no little excitement when the black four-span turned in at the Dean’s gate. Schagerström was immediately conducted upstairs to the large salon, where he sat talking awhile with the Dean and his wife.

Charlotte Löwensköld had quietly stolen up to her room. In a few moments, the Dean’s wife came and asked her to join them in the salon. Ironmaster Schagerström was calling, and it was rather tiresome for him having no one to talk to but two aged persons.

The old lady looked a bit flustered, but solemn. Charlotte opened her eyes wide with surprise, but asked no questions. She untied her apron, dipped her fingers in the wash basin, smoothed back her hair, put on a fresh collar, then followed after the Dean’s wife. About to step out of the room, she turned back and put on her large apron again.

Charlotte had no sooner entered the salon and greeted Schagerström than she was requested to be seated. Whereupon the old Dean made her a little speech. He used many words, dilating upon the comfort and joy she had brought to the house. She had been as a dear daughter to him and his wife, and it would be hard for them to part with her. But now that a man like Ironmaster Gustaf Schagerström had come and asked for her hand in marriage, they must not think of themselves, but counsel her to accept an offer which was so much better than any she could have expected.

The Dean made no mention of the fact that she was already betrothed to his curate. Both he and his wife had been long opposed to this bond, and heartily wished it broken. A poor girl like Charlotte Löwensköld could not afford to tie herself up with a man who positively refused to seek a proper living.

Charlotte had listened without moving a muscle. The Dean, wishing to give her time to form a fitting reply, added a glowing eulogy of Schagerström. He spoke of his fine estates, his splendid achievements, his wonderful capabilities, his high ideals, and his kindness to his employees. He had heard so much good of Ironmaster Schagerström that, although this was his first visit to the deanery, he already regarded him as a friend into whose keeping he was glad to place the destiny of his young kinswoman.

All the while Schagerström sat regarding Charlotte, to see how she was taking his proposal. She suddenly straightened in her chair, threw back her head, her blue eyes turned almost black, and her lip curled in a scornful smile. Schagerström was struck with amazement. Charlotte Löwensköld was a beauty! And, moreover, a beauty who was neither meek nor humble.

Obviously, his offer had made a strong impression, but whether favourable or unfavourable, he hardly dared venture to guess.

However, he did not have to remain long in a state of uncertainty. The moment the Dean had finished, Charlotte Löwensköld spoke up:

“I wonder if Ironmaster Schagerström knows that I am engaged?”

“Oh, yes,” said Schagerström. Before he could utter another word, Charlotte continued:

“Then how can Ironmaster Schagerström have the audacity to come and propose to me!”

That was what she said; she used such a word as audacity when speaking to the richest man in Korskyrka. She had forgotten that she was only a poor lady’s-companion. Now she was the proud aristocrat, the Honourable Fröken Löwensköld.

The old Dean and his wife were so shocked they nearly fell off their chairs. Schagerström, too, looked somewhat surprised; but he was a man of the world and knew how to act in an embarrassing situation. He stepped up to Charlotte, took one of her small hands between his two, and pressed it warmly.

“My dear Fröken Löwensköld,” he said, “your answer only increases my respect and admiration for you as an individual.”

He bowed to the Dean and to the Dean’s wife, and indicated by a gesture that they need not speak or see him to his carriage. They, as well as Charlotte, marvelled at the dignity of the rejected suitor as he withdrew from the room.