“By Saint Olaf! you are right. Mr. Benett, you are quite right. Poor Hulda! Unfortunately it is not Ole who is making her this present, but myself, and it is not to a blushing bride that I am going to offer it.”
“True, true, Mr. Hogg.”
“Let me look then at some jewelry suitable for a young girl. How about this cross, Mr. Benett?”
“It is to be worn as a pendant, and being cut in concave facets it sparkles brilliantly with every movement of the wearer’s throat.”
“It is very pretty, very pretty, indeed, and you can lay it aside with the other articles, Mr. Benett. When we have gone through all the showcases we will make our selection.”
“Yes, but—”
“What is the matter now?”
“This cross, too, is intended to be worn by Scandinavian brides on their marriage day.”
“The deuce! friend Benett. I am certainly very unfortunate in my selections.”
“The fact is, professor, my stock is composed principally of bridal jewelry, as that meets with the readiest sale. You can scarcely wonder at that.”
“The fact doesn’t surprise me at all, Mr. Benett, though it places me in a rather embarrassing position.”
“Oh, well, you can still take the ring you asked me to put aside.”
“Yes, but I should like some more showy ornament.”
“Then take this necklace of silver filigree with its four rows of chains which will have such a charming effect upon the neck of a young girl. See! it is studded with gems of every hue, and it is certainly one of the most quaint and curious productions of the Norwegian silversmiths.”
“Yes, yes,” replied Sylvius Hogg. “It is a pretty ornament, though perhaps rather showy for my modest Hulda. Indeed, I much prefer the corsage ornaments you showed me just now, and the pendant. Are they so especially reserved for brides that they cannot be presented to a young girl?”
“I think the Storthing has as yet passed no law to that effect,” replied Mr. Benett. “It is an unpardonable oversight, probably, but—”
“Well, well, it shall be attended to immediately, Mr. Benett. In the meantime I will take the cross and corsage ornaments. My little Hulda may marry some day after all. Good and charming as she is she certainly will not want for an opportunity to utilize these ornaments, so I will buy them and take them away with me.”
“Very well, very well, professor.”
“Shall we have the pleasure of seeing you at the drawing, friend Benett?”
“Certainly.”
“I think it will be a very interesting affair.”
“I am sure of it.”
“But look here,” exclaimed the professor, bending over a showcase, “here are two very pretty rings I did not notice before.”
“Oh, they wouldn’t suit you, Mr. Hogg. These are the heavily chased rings that the pastor places upon the finger of the bride and the groom during the marriage ceremony.”
“Indeed? Ah, well, I will take them all the same. And now I must bid you goodbye, Mr. Benett, though I hope to see you again very soon.”
Sylvius Hogg now left the establishment, and walked briskly in the direction of the Hotel du Nord.
On entering the vestibule his eyes fell upon the words Fiat lux, which are inscribed upon the hall lamp.
“Ah! these Latin words are certainly very appropriate,” he said to himself, “Yes. Fiat lux! Fiat lux!”
Hulda was still in her room, sitting by the window. The professor rapped at the door, which was instantly opened.
“Oh. Monsieur Sylvius!” cried the girl, delightedly.
“Yes, here I am, here I am! But never mind about Monsieur Sylvius now; our attention must be devoted to breakfast, which is ready and waiting. I’m as hungry as a wolf. Where is Joel?”
“In the reading-room.”
“Well, I will go in search of him. You, my dear child, must come right down and join us.”
Sylvius Hogg left the room and went to find Joel, who was also waiting for him, but in a state of mind bordering upon despair. The poor fellow immediately showed the professor the copy of the Morgen-Blad, containing the discouraging telegram from the commander of the Telegraph.
“Hulda has not seen it, I hope?” inquired the professor, hastily.
“No, I thought it better to conceal from her as long as possible what she will learn only too soon.”
“You did quite right, my boy. Let us go to breakfast.”
A moment afterward all three were seated at a table in a private dining room, and Sylvius Hogg began eating with great zest.
An excellent breakfast it was, equal in fact to any dinner, as you can judge from the menu. Cold beer soup, salmon with egg sauce, delicious veal cutlets, rare roast beef, a delicate salad, vanilla ice, raspberry and cherry preserver—the whole moistened with some very fine claret.
“Excellent, excellent!” exclaimed Sylvius Hogg. “Why, we can almost imagine ourselves in Dame Hansen’s inn at Dal.”
And as his mouth was otherwise occupied his eyes smiled as much as it is possible for eyes to smile.
Joel and Hulda endeavored to reply in the same strain, but they could not, and the poor girl tasted scarcely anything. When the repast was concluded:
“My children,” said Sylvius Hogg, “you certainly failed to do justice to a very excellent breakfast. Still, I cannot compel you to eat, and if you go without breakfast you are likely to enjoy your dinner all the more, while I very much doubt if I shall be able to compete with you tonight. Now, it is quite time for us to leave the table.”
The professor was already upon his feet, and he was about to take the hat Joel handed him, when Hulda checked him by saying:
“Monsieur Sylvius, do you still insist that I shall accompany you?”
“To witness the drawing? Certainly I do, my dear girl.”
“But it will be a very painful ordeal for me.”
“I admit it, but Ole wished you to be present at the drawing, Hulda, and Ole’s wishes must be obeyed.”
This phrase was certainly becoming a sort of refrain in Sylvius Hogg’s mouth.
