"You can, as you know—command me," answered Emanuel, as he lifted his hat and bowed with ironical politeness. "Is there any other way in which I can serve you, Miss Ragnhild?"
"Yes, I daresay you will be accommodating enough not to be too unpunctual for once. I believe my father would be very impatient on this occasion if we had to wait for you. Rather come half an hour too soon, then you can help me with some of the arrangements into the bargain."
"I will do my best, but then you must allow me to leave you now. Besides, I see your father coming along in a hurry. You may be sure that there is something wrong with the salads. I have the honour to take leave of you."
Provst Tönnesen had indeed made his appearance at the end of the garden, walking with his hands behind him—he was evidently preparing a speech. But no sooner did he catch sight of the young pair by the seat, than he hurriedly turned and continued his walk in the opposite direction through the garden.
Miss Ragnhild remained sitting a little while longer on the seat with her hands on her lap, looking thoughtfully before her. Then she rose
