Chapter 17

It was early in the morning when Dorothea rang Daniel’s bell. Philippina opened the door, but she did not wish to let Dorothea in. She forced an entrance, however, and, standing in the door, she inspected Philippina with the eye of arrogance, always a clear-sighted organ.

“Look out, Philippin’, there’s something rotten here,” murmured Philippina to herself.

Daniel was at work. He got up and looked at Dorothea, who carefully closed the door.

“Here I am, Daniel,” she said, and breathed a sigh of relief, like a swimmer who has just reached the land.

“What is it all about?” asked Daniel, seemingly ill inclined to become excited.

“I have done what you wanted me to do, Daniel: I have broken away from them. I cannot tolerate Father a minute longer. Where should I go if not to you?”

Daniel went up to her, and laid his hands on her shoulders. “Girl, girl!” he said as if to warn her. He felt uneasy.

They looked into each other’s eyes for what seemed like an eternity. Daniel was apparently trying to peer into the innermost recesses of her soul. Dorothea’s eyes sparkled with daring; she did not lower her lids. Suddenly, as if moved from within, Daniel bent over and kissed her on the forehead.

“You know who I am,” he said, and walked back and forth in the room. “You know how I have lived and how I am living at present. I am a guilty man, and a lonely man. My nature craves tenderness, but is unable to give tenderness in return. My lot is a hard one, and whoever decides to share it with me must be able to bear her part of this hardness. I am frequently my own enemy and the enemy of those who mean well by me. I am not a humourist, and make a poor impression in society. I can be gruff, offensive, spiteful, irreconcilable, and revengeful. I am ugly, poor, and no longer young. Are you not afraid of your twenty-three years, Dorothea?”

Dorothea shook her head vigorously.

“Test yourself, Dorothea, examine yourself,” he continued urgently, “don’t be too inexact, too careless with me, nor with yourself. Study the situation from all sides, so that we may make no false calculations. Fate, you know, is fate. Love can get control of me more than I can get control of myself, and when this takes place I will do everything in my power. But I must have confidence, unlimited confidence. If I were to lose confidence, I should be like a mortal proscribed to Hell, an outcast, an evil spirit. Examine yourself, Dorothea. You must know what you are doing; it is your affair, and it is a sacred one.”

“I cannot do otherwise, Daniel!” cried Dorothea, and threw herself on his bosom.

“Then God be merciful to us,” said Daniel.