wished to talk to him, to try and cheer him a little.
Then she hit upon saying:
"Well you see, Mr Hansted—as you perhaps know, we are going to have a little festivity to-day at the Parsonage."
"Yes, I think I have heard a little bird whisper it."
"Oh well, make fun if you like. A thing of that sort is always an event in the country, where nothing more interesting happens from year's end to year's end—which for the rest only proves what I said before on the subject. But enough of that.—As I daresay you can imagine, I shall be a most charming hostess to my guests. They are, as far as I know, Messrs Peter Niels, Niels Petersen, Peter Nielsen Petersen, and Niels Petersen Nielsen.—Oh, you needn't knit your brows in such a scandalized fashion, I have not the slightest objection to these good people. Only, I cannot reconcile myself to their spitting on my good carpets—yes, last time one of them did so. Possibly that kind of thing is a manifestation of the spontaneity of feeling of which you spoke before so finely, but I would none the less rather be without it.—Now I wanted to ask you, Mr Hansted, to be as amiable as possible to our guests this evening. And if anything should happen to me—one of my bad headaches, for instance—you will be so good as to be my gallant representative among the ladies."
