In the meantime the curate sat silent, absently crumbling his bread in his usual manner and eating next to nothing. His appearance had perceptibly changed in the course of the winter. His cheeks had grown hollow, and his once clear, frank eyes were clouded over and betrayed the canker gnawing at his heart.
Miss Ragnhild looked at him several times from the other side of the table with an observant eye. Under pretext of work for the evening festivity, she had not, according to her usual custom, accompanied her father to church, and was still dressed in a flowered morning gown of soft warm stuff, with a long pointed bodice and big puffed sleeves. There was an expression of hidden anxiety on her transparent face and large blue gray eyes, as well as sisterly sympathy with the curate's troubles, which she seemed to know and understand.
At last even the Provst noticed that Mr Hansted was more than usually absent-minded, and when, suddenly addressing a question to him, he received a confused answer, he wrinkled his forehead disapprovingly. He did not think it suitable that his curate should be inattentive when he spoke, even if it was only about pies and salads. Altogether the Provst was not nearly so pleased with his curate as at one time he had expected to be. He felt himself oppressed by this person who became more peculiar and reserved every day, and went about his house
