"Ay, be sure I'll try, Mamselle," said Long-Bengt. "But what shall I do if he won't come along willingly?"
"Tell him you dare not return without him," she said.
And Long-Bengt went.
It was a day's journey to Kymsberg, and Long-Bengt did not get back until the evening of the second day; but in the chaise with him was the Paymaster of the Regiment.
Mamselle Lisa Maja received him cordially, as usual. She asked him into the living room, and bade him sit down and rest a bit after his long journey. They would hurry with the supper, she said, as he must be hungry.
He paced up and down the room impatiently; he seemed only to be waiting for the moment when he could be off.
When they were seated at table—just they two—Lisa Maja turned to him when the housekeeper came in with the food—as if she'd only been waiting for her—and asked him whether it was true that he wanted to break off with her.
"Oh, yes," he answered, looking solemn as an owl. Such was his wish, of course; she should have guessed that long ago.
The blood rushed to her face. If she had not questioned him about this before, she said, it was because she firmly believed they were destined for each other. Then, with a forced laugh, he asked her what she meant
