Emanuel, or Children of the Soil/Book 2, Chapter 10

by Henrik Pontoppidan

CHAPTER X

In the middle of the table, under a large hanging lamp, stood a tall epergne with flowers. There were tall, seven-branched candelabra at each end of the table. The napkins on each plate were in the shape of a bishop's mitre, under which a piece of bread was hidden. The table was spread with a collection of delicate viands. There was fish in different coloured jelly, birds stuffed with forcemeat, several kinds of salads in large blue glass bowls, lobsters and sardines in tins, besides a host of other things, all arranged with Miss Ragnhild's characteristic and refined taste.

Although the menu did not offer any surprises, as it was always much the same on these occasions, yet the festive appearance of the table and the unusual beauty of the china at once impressed the company favourably, and the meal began in solemn silence. The fat little landowner set to work immediately, with his elbows out, to ladle into his mouth voraciously, with knife and fork, whatever came near him.

Aggerbölle, on the other hand, struggled bravely against his evil tendencies. He sat for a long time with the same glass of claret before him, and never more than half-filled his plate, consequently he was able to glance at his wife with proud self-esteem, for he had solemnly promised her on the way to the Parsonage to behave with propriety and moderation.

At first the Provst was the only one, so to speak, who conversed; and altogether he shewed himself to be an equally amiable and entertaining host. He saw that the dishes were passed round, invited the gentlemen to fill their glasses, told little anecdotes, and, by the gallantry of his behaviour, disclosed the former "society" man, who was involuntarily stimulated and carried away by the sight of bright lights, flowers, and ladies in silk attire.

When the meal had proceeded for a quarter of an hour, he tapped his glass, and began an elaborate speech. Beginning with Solomon's proverb, he spoke in copious and polished terms of the strength felt in times of difficulty from knowing oneself to be surrounded by faithful friends. He expressed the hope that the circle he saw around him, all of the same party, "and also the peace of the congregation," might never be broken, and ended by heartily thanking the guests for the pleasure of their company.

Immediately afterwards, one of the tall, heavily-built landowners rose, and expressed in fluent terms the thanks of the company to the Provst for his richly blessed activity in the parish. For a moment there was a danger of his touching upon some of the serious questions which the Provst had passed lightly over, by his throwing out a remark as to the "levelling tendencies of the age," against which the Provst was so powerful a bulwark. But sticking fast at this point, as if the flow of his words had come to an end, he concluded abruptly by proposing the health of the Provst and Miss Ragnhild.

After the company had again risen and touched glasses, the spirits rose considerably; and when at last the sweet course—a mighty plum-pudding—was put flaming upon the table, the satisfaction broke out into general mirth.

But now Aggerbölle's evil moment had arrived. Plum-pudding was one of his favourite dishes, and the decanters of heating wines also began to circulate. Then he was so unfortunate as to have a very bad example opposite to him, in the fat little Squire, who, during the whole meal, sat with the same peevish air, "gorging like a tapeworm"—as Aggerbölle later expressed himself—with all the daintiest dishes, so that he was actually forced to turn his eyes away, not to be led into temptation.

Now for the life of him he could no longer withstand. With a desperate and beseeching glance at his wife, he helped himself to a wedge of pudding, weighing at least a pound and a half, and directly after, tossed off two brimming glasses of sherry, as if at once to deafen himself to the voice of conscience.

Peals of laughter and loud conversation now resounded on all sides. Only the peasants remained silent. They sat all the time timidly trying the mysterious dishes, as if they were dead rats, and sipping the wine like medicine. One of them whispered to his neighbour, who was looking despondently at a piece of pudding which continued to blaze on his plate—

"If we on'y had one o' mother's dumplins now. These here made-up dishes can't be good for country folk's insides."

Emanuel was placed about half way down the long table. He had not talked much during the meal, and his companion, who was entirely taken up with keeping an eye on her husband, had not helped him much. He was disgusted by this empty and artificial entertainment.

The conversation with the weaver still rang in his ears, and through the haze of the lights, and the steam in the room, he still saw the sunny peasant's room with its simple air of comfort and sober Sunday festivity.

Miss Ragnhild, from the further end of the table, several times tried to attract his attention in order to drink a glass of wine with him. But he intentionally avoided her eye; because, of all the company present, she was the most displeasing to him. He considered that her dress was in questionable taste, nay, even shocking; and he noticed with shame how Johansen, who sat near her, absolutely devoured with his eyes her white neck and arms, which shone through the thin stuff, while he bent over her making pleasant remarks. Nor did she listen with indifference to this absurd caricature of a man about town. She lay back in her chair looking quite lively. The heat, the wine, and the sound of the many voices had brought a slight tinge of colour to her cheeks; and when she smiled, her eyes shone with excitement.

In his thoughts he compared her with the sober, healthy, rosy-cheeked peasant girl in whose company he had lately been, and who, in her simple dark red dress, seemed to him a hundred times prettier than any of these dressed-up ladies in their flaunting dresses of silk and tulle. He glanced over the assembled company, from the Provst and the squires with their self-satisfied faces to the stolid row of peasants—and he thought how woefully he had been deceived. He—who at one time thought that he had fled from the abomination of culture for ever—now found that here he had only fallen into the arms of a ludicrous caricature of this same culture. Or was not this the same frivolity? The same arrogance? The same hypocrisy? They rose from table, and the company dispersed themselves in the various rooms. The ladies took possession of the drawing-room, while the gentlemen settled themselves in the study to smoke.

Miss Ragnhild met Emanuel at the dining-room door. "Velbekomme," she exclaimed merrily, giving him her hand. "All the same, I think you might have said, 'Tak for mad.' Or do you not consider my table worthy of praise? And why were you so wanting in gallantry as never even to look at me? I wanted to drink a glass of wine with you."

"Oh, I saw you very well. I thought Mr Johansen was very much taken up with you, and I could not find it in my heart to take you away from him."

"Poor Johansen," she laughed, "you are always down upon him. I admit he is very ludicrous, but, good heavens, he's a man after all, and he does not always talk about cattle and the price of corn. He is even a man of taste. I noticed to-day that he uses a scent which is not at all bad; and then he talked to me both about Wagner and Beethoven. What more can one want?"

"I daresay you are right, and in my opinion you and Mr Johansen suit each other admirably."

The tone of Emanuel's answer made the young lady draw herself up. She looked at him, and then said with displeasure—

"I think you forget yourself, Mr Hansted. It appears to me, altogether, that latterly you have begun in a deplorable degree to lose your former amiability."

"You are no doubt right on this point also, Miss Ragnhild. I feel myself, that I am out of place in this company, and I was just about to leave it when I met you. If your father asks for me, will you be so good as to make my excuses to him?"

He bowed stiffly and left the room. Miss Ragnhild remained on the threshold, thunderstruck, looking after him as he went.