greatest difficulty that he prevented himself from hurling an insult at the Provst.
At last he said—
"If by certain young girls Anders Jörgen's daughter is meant—and there can be no talk of any other—yes, it is partly true."
"Oh, indeed! so you admit it?"
"Yes, I am engaged to her. No particular scandal can have been caused to the congregation, however, as it was only last night I spoke to her alone for the first time. And even then, as I now understand, it was not entirely without witnesses. Mr Johansen was also present."
The Provst fell back, first one, and then another lingering step. His hands dropped from his back to his sides, and hung loosely; he stared at the curate, as if it was on the tip of his tongue to ask if he was mad.
"What do you say?… You are engaged to Anders Jörgen's daughter?"
"Yes."
In the space of half a minute the Provst's face went through a whole scale of the most opposite expressions. At last it settled into one of consternation mixed with the deepest pity.
Emanuel's face at this moment was not that of a happy, newly engaged man. His quivering features and heavy eyes betrayed, in spite of his efforts, the struggles of a mind distracted by the beginning of doubts and anxiety.
After a long silence the Provst came up close
