Various - "Scientific American Supplement, No. 430, March 29, 1884"

Henry James - "The Portrait of a Lady [Volume 2]"

Eliza Orne White - "Peggy in Her Blue Frock"

James Mark Baldwin - "The Story of the Mind"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

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F >> Fredrika Bremer >> The Home







CHAPTER XII.

PLANS AND COUNTER PLANS.


Eva entered her father's study the next morning. He immediately left his
work, received her with the greatest tenderness, drew her to his side on
the sofa, and placing one arm round her waist, took her hand in his, and
inquired, with a searching glance, "Do you want anything from me, my
child? Can I do anything for you? Tell me!"

Encouraged by his kindness, Eva described the state of her mind to her
father, and explained how she wished to commence a more active life in
order to overcome her weakness, and to regain strength and quiet. The
situation of teacher in a girl's school in the city was vacant, and she
wished immediately to take it, but only for the summer, during which
time she and Leonore would prepare themselves to open a school in
autumn. It was a plan of which they had long thought, and which would
afford them a useful and independent life. Eva besought the acquiescence
of her father to this proposition.

"Leonore and I," continued she, "have this morning talked a deal on the
subject; we hope that with the counsel and countenance upon which we may
reckon, to be able to make it succeed. Ah, father! I am become quite
anxious about it on account of my own weakness. I must speedily resort
to external means, that I may overcome it. I will become active; I will
work; and whilst thus employed I shall forget the past and myself, and
only live for the happiness of those who love me, and to whom I have
caused so much trouble."

"My child! my dear child, you are right; you do rightly!" said the
father, deeply affected, and clasping his daughter in his arms; "your
wish shall be granted, and whatever is in my power will I do to forward
your plans. What a many institutions for education will there not
proceed from our house! But there is no harm at all in that--there are
no more useful institutions on the face of the earth! One reservation,
however, I must make from your and Leonore's determination. You may
dedicate the autumn and the winter to your school--but the summer you
must devote to your father!--and Madame B. may find a teacher where she
can, only not from my family--for I am not now in a condition to furnish
her one."

"Ah, father," said she, "every unemployed hour is a burden to me!"

"We will bear the burden together, my child! Leonore, I, and you, in our
wanderings towards the west. In a few weeks I am thinking of undertaking
a journey, after which I have longed for these many years; I will visit
the beautiful native land of my mother. Will you, Eva, breathe this
fresh mountain air with me? I should have very little pleasure in the
journey alone, but in company with you and Leonore it will make me young
again! Our heads are become bowed, my child, but in God's beautiful
nature we will lift them up again! You will go with me--is it not so?
Good! Come then with me to your mother, for it is she alone who has
managed this journey!"

With an arm round the waist of his daughter the Judge now went to his
wife; they found Leonore with her; nor was ever a quartet of Mozart's
more harmonious than that which was now performed among them.

Eva was uncommonly animated all day, but in the evening she was in a
burning fever. A feeling of anxiety went through the whole family; they
feared that a new grave was about to be opened, and disquiet was painted
on all countenances. Eva demanded, with a fervour which was not without
its feverish excitement, that the Assessor should be fetched. He came
immediately.

"Forgive me!" exclaimed Eva, extending her hand to him, "I have been so
ungrateful to you! But my heart was so disordered that it was quite
changed; but it will recover itself again. Leonore has given it health.
I am very ill now; my hands burn, my head aches! Give me my little
work-box--that I may hold it between my hands--that I may lean my head
upon it--else I shall be no better! You, my friend, will cure me that I
may again make my family happy!"

The Assessor dried his tears. As Eva leaned her head on the work-box,
she talked earnestly, but not quite coherently of the plans for the
future.

"Very good, very good," said the physician, interrupting her; "I too
will be of the establishment; I will give instruction in botany to the
whole swarm of girls, and between us we will drive them out into the
woods and into the fields, that we may see them learn all that is
beautiful in the world. But now, Eva, you must not talk any more--but
you must empty this glass."

Eva took the composing draught willingly, and was soon calmer. She was
the most obedient and amiable of patients, and showed a confidence in
her old friend which penetrated his heart. He would have sate night and
day by her bed.

Eva's sickness was a violent fever, which confined her to her bed for
nearly three weeks, and occasioned her family great uneasiness. This
sickness was, however, very beneficial for herself and for the health of
her mind; but still more beneficial was the infinite love with which she
saw herself encompassed on all sides.

One day in the beginning of her convalescence, as she sate up and saw
herself surrounded by all the comforts which love and home could gather
about a beloved sufferer, she said to Leonore as she leaned upon her,
"Ah, who would not be willing to live when they see themselves so
beloved!"

In the meantime Louise's wedding-day was approaching nearer.




CHAPTER XIII.

A SURPRISE.


Three days before the wedding a grand travelling-carriage drawn by four
horses rolled through the streets of the town of X----, and from the
prodigious clatter which it made drew all the inquisitive among the
inhabitants to their windows.

"Did you see, dear sister," cried the general shopkeeper Madame Suur to
Madame Bask, the wife of the postmaster, "the grand travelling-carriage
that has just gone by? Did you see the sweet youth that sate on the left
and looked so genteel, with his snow-white neck and open shirt-collar?
Lawk! how he looked at me--so sweet as he was! How like a real prince he
looked!"

"Dear sister!" answered the postmistress, "then you did not see the
gentleman who sate on the right? He was a grand gentleman, that I can
positively assert! He sate so stately leaning back in the carriage, and
so wrapped up in grand furs that one could not see the least bit of his
face. Positively he is a great somebody!"

"I got a shimmer of the youth," said the grey-brown handed and
complexioned Annette P----, as she glanced up from her coarse sewing,
with such a look as probably a captive casts who has glanced out of his
prison into a freer and more beautiful state of existence; "he looked so
calm, with large blue eyes, out of the plate-glass windows of the
carriage! as pure and grave he looked as one of God's angels!"

"Ay, we know to be sure how the angels look!" said the postmistress,
snubbingly, and with a severe glance at Annette; "but that's absolutely
all one! Yet I should like to know what grandees they are. I should not
be a bit surprised if it were his royal highness or gracious
crown-prince, who with his eldest son is travelling _incondito_ through
the country."

"Dear sister says what is true," returned Madame Suur. "Yes, it must be
so! for he looked like a regular prince, the sweet youth, as he sate
there and glanced at me through the window; really, he smiled at me!"

"Nay, my ladies, we've got some genteel strangers in the city!"
exclaimed Mr. Alderman Nyberg as he came into the room.

"Have they stopped here?" cried both ladies at once.

"My wife saw the carriage draw up and----"

"Nay, heaven defend us! Mr. Alderman what are you thinking about that
you don't make a stir in the city and send a deputation to wait upon
them? For goodness sake let the city-council come together!"

"How? What? Who?" asked the Alderman, opening wide his grey eyes like
some one just awoke out of sleep; "can it indeed----"

"Yes, very likely his royal highness himself in his own proper
person--possibly his majesty!"

"Gracious heavens!" said the Alderman, and looked as if the town-house
had fallen.

"But speed off in all the world's name, and run and look about you, and
don't stand here staring like a dead figure!" exclaimed the
postmistress, quite hoarse, while she shook up and down her great mass
of humanity on the creaking sofa. "Dear sister, cannot you also get on
your legs a little, and Annette too, instead of sitting there
hum-drumming with her sewing, out of which nothing comes. Annette run
quick, and see what it is all about--but come back in an instant-minute
and tell me, poor soul, whom our Lord has smitten with calamity and
sickness--nay, nay, march pancake!"

The Alderman ran; dear Sister Suur ran; Mamselle Annette ran; we ran
also, dear reader, in order to see a large-made gentleman somewhat in
years, and a youth of eleven, of slender figure and noble appearance,
dismount from the travelling carriage. It was his Excellency O---- and
his youngest son.

They alighted and went into the house of the Franks. His Excellency
entered the drawing-room without suffering himself to be announced, and
introduced himself to Elise, who though surprised by the visit of the
unexpected stranger, received him with all her accustomed graceful
self-possession; lamenting the absence of her husband, and thinking to
herself that Jacobi had not in the least exceeded the truth in his
description of the person of his Excellency.

His Excellency was now in the most brilliant of humours, and discovered,
as by sudden revelation, that he and Elise were related; called her "my
cousin" all the time, and said the handsomest things to her of her
family, of whom he had heard so much, but more especially of a certain
young man on whom he set the highest value. Further he said, that
however much he must rejoice in having made the personal acquaintance of
his cousin, still he must confess that his visit at this time had
particular reference to the young man of whom he had spoken; and with
this he inquired after Jacobi.

Jacobi was sent for, and came quickly, but not without evident emotion
in his countenance. His Excellency O----approached him, extended his
hand cheerfully, and said, "I rejoice to see you; my cursed gout has not
quite left me; but I could not pass so near the city without going a
little out of my way in order to wish you happiness on your approaching
marriage, and also to mention an affair--but you must introduce me to
your bride."

Jacobi did it with glowing eyes. His Excellency took Louise's hand, and
said, "I congratulate you on your happiness, on being about to have one
of the best and the most estimable of men for your husband!" And with
these words he riveted a friendly penetrating glance upon her, and then
kissed her hand. Louise blushed deeply, and looked happier than when she
agreed to her own proposition of not troubling herself about his
Excellency.

Upon the other daughters also who were present, his keen eyes were fixed
with a look which seemed rather to search into soul than body, and
rested with evident satisfaction on the beautifully blushing Gabriele.

"I also have had a daughter," said he, slowly, "an only one--but she was
taken from me!"

A melancholy feeling seemed to have gained possession of him, but he
shook it quickly from him, stood up, and went to Jacobi, to whom he
talked in a loud and friendly voice.

"My best Jacobi," said he, "you told me the last time we were together
that you thought of opening a school for boys in Stockholm. I am pleased
with it, for I have proved that your ability as teacher and guide of
youth is of no ordinary kind. I wish to introduce to you a pupil, my
little boy. You will confer upon me a real pleasure if you will be able
to receive him in two months, at which time I must undertake a journey
abroad, which perhaps may detain me long, and would wish to know that
during this my absence my son was in good hands. I wish that he should
remain under your care at least two or three years. You will easily feel
that I should not place in your hands him who is dearest to me in the
world, if I had not the most perfect confidence in you, and therefore I
give you no prescribed directions concerning him. And if prayers can
obtain motherly regard," continued he, turning to Louise, "I would
direct myself with them to you. Take good care of my boy--he has no
longer a mother!"

Louise drew the boy hastily to her, embraced him, and kissed him with
warmth. A smile as of sunshine diffused itself over the countenance of
the father, and certainly no words which Louise could have spoken would
have satisfied him more than this silent but intelligent answer of the
heart. Jacobi stood there with tears in his eyes; he could not bring
forth many words, but his Excellency understood him, and shook him
cordially by the hand.

"May we not have the horses taken out? Will not your Excellency have the
goodness to stay to dine with us?" were the beseeching questions which
were repeated around him.

But however willing his Excellency would have been to do it, it was
impossible. He had promised to dine at Stroe with Count Y----, eighteen
miles distant from the town.

"But breakfast? a little breakfast at least? It should be served in a
moment. The young Count Axel would certainly be glad of a little
breakfast!" asserted Louise, with friendly confidence, who seemed
already to have taken under her protection the future pupil of her
husband.

The young Count Axel did not say no; and the father, whose behaviour
became every moment more cordial and gay, said that a little breakfast
in such company would eat excellently.

Bergstroem prepared with rapture and burning zeal the table for the lofty
guest, who in the mean time chatted with evident satisfaction with Elise
and Jacobi, directing often also his conversation to Louise as if
insensibly to test her; and from their inmost hearts did both mother and
bridegroom rejoice that with her calm understanding she could stand the
test so well.

Gabriele entertained the young Count Axel in one of the windows by
listening to the repeater of his new gold watch, which set the grave and
naturally silent boy at liberty to lead the entertainment in another
way; and Gabriele, who entered into all his ideas, wondered very much
over the wonderful properties of the watch; and let it repeat over and
over again, whilst her lovely and lively smiles and her merry words
called forth more and more the confidence of the young Axel.

Breakfast was ready; was brought in by the happy Bergstroem; was eaten
and praised by his Excellency, who was a connoisseur; a description of
the capitally preserved anchovies was particularly desired from Louise;
and then her health and that of her bridegroom was drunk in Madeira.

Towards the conclusion of the breakfast the Judge came home. The trait
of independence, bordering on pride, which sometimes revealed itself in
Judge Frank's demeanour, and which perhaps was visible at the very time
of his respectful but simple greeting of his Excellency, called forth in
him also a momentary appearance of height. But this pride soon vanished
from both sides. These two men knew and valued each other mutually; and
it was not long before they were so deeply engrossed by conversation,
that his Excellency forgot his journey, not for one only, but for two
hours.

"I lament over Stroe and its dinner," said his Excellency, preparing to
take his departure; "how they must have waited there! But we could not
possibly help it."

After his Excellency had departed, he left behind him a bright
impression on all the family of Franks, not one of whom did not feel
animated in a beneficial manner by his behaviour and his words. Jacobi
in his joy made a high _entre-chat_, and embracing Louise, said, "Now,
Louise, what say you to the man? And we have got a pupil that will draw
at least twenty after him!"

Louise was perfectly reconciled to his Excellency.

From this day forth Bergstroem began a new era; whatever happened in the
family was either before or after the visit of his Excellency.

* * * * *

"Ah, then, my goodness! that it should be Excellency O----!" said the
dear sister Bask to the dear sister Suur.

"Yes, just think! That he should come solely, and for no other purpose,
than to visit the Franks, and breakfast there, and stop several hours
there! He is a cousin, of the Judge's lady."

"Her cousin! Bah! no more her cousin than I am the king's cousin;
positively not!"

"Yes, yes! or why else should he have called her 'my gracious cousin?'
And one must confess that there is something refined and genteel about
her--and such hands as she has have I never seen!"

"Hum! There's no art in looking genteel and having beautiful hands, when
one goes about the house like a foolish thing, washing one's hands in
rose-water, and all the livelong day doing not one sensible act. That I
know well enough!"

"Yes, yes! they who will be of any use in their house cannot keep such
hands, and sit the whole day and read romances! I should like to know
how it would have gone with the blessed Suur's baking business--to which
at last he added the grocery--if I had been a genteel lady! Not at all,
because I should not have done it. Sweet sister, know that I once had my
whims--yes, and a turn for scribbling and writing. Yes, so help me
heaven! if it had not been for my little bit of sound sense, which
showed me my folly in time, I might have become a regular learned lady,
another--what do you call her?--Madame de Stael! But when I married the
late Suur I determined to give up all that foolishness, and do honour to
the baking; and now I have quite let my little talent slip away from me,
so that it is as good as buried. But on that account I am, to be sure,
no fitting company for the Franks--think only!--and shall be only less
and less so, if they are always climbing higher and higher."

"Let them climb as high as they will, I don't intend to make obeisances
before them, that I can promise them! that I absolutely will not! It
vexes me enough that Annette is so mad after them. Before one is aware
of it, they will be taking her away from me, skin and hair; and that's
my thanks for all I have lavished upon her! But I'll tell the gentry
that I'm positively determined to make no compliments to them or to
their Excellencies, and that one person is just as good as another!
Positively I'll tell them that!"




CHAPTER XIV.

THE EVENING BEFORE THE WEDDING.


"God bless the little ones! But when one considers how little of a
rarity children are in this world, one has only to open one's mouth to
say so, and people are all up in arms and make such a stir and such an
ado about their little ones! Heart's-dearest! People may call them
angels as much as ever they will, but I would willingly have my knees
free from them! But worst of all is it with the first child in a family!
Oh, it is a happiness and a miracle, and cannot be enough overloaded
with caresses and presents from father and mother, and aunts and
cousins, and all the world. Does it scream and roar--then it is a
budding genius; is it silent--then it is a philosopher in its cradle;
and scarcely is it eight days old but it understands Swedish and almost
German also! And--it bites, the sweet angel!--it has got a tooth! It
bites properly. Ah, it is divine! Then comes the second child:--it is by
far less wonderful already; its cry and its teeth are not half so
extraordinary. The third comes;--it is all over with miracles now! the
aunts begin to shake their heads, and say, 'no lack of heirs in the
house! Nay, nay, may there be only enough to feed them all.' After this
comes a fourth, and a fifth, and a sixth--yes, then people's wits are
set in full play! The parents resign themselves, but the friends defend
themselves! Heart's-dearest, what is to become of it? The house full of
children, there's soon a dozen of them! Poor Mrs. This and This--it
makes one quite weak both in body and mind only to think of it! Yes,
yes, my friends, people don't put these things down in romances, but it
goes on in this way in real life! Yes!"

It was the Chamberlain's lady who preached this little sermon, in the
zeal of her spirit, to the young couple who the next day were to be man
and wife. She ate on this evening Whitsuntide-porridge[19] with the
Franks, and all the while gave sundry lessons for the future. Jacobi
laughed heartily over the history of the children, and endeavoured to
catch Louise's eye; but this was fixed upon the Postillion, which she
was arranging with a very important and grave aspect. The Judge and
Elise looked smilingly on each other, and extended to each other their
hands.

The state of feeling in the family, for the rest of the evening, was
quite rose-coloured. Letters had been received from Petrea which gave
contentment to all her friends, and Eva sate in the family circle with
returning, although as yet pale roses on her cheeks. The Judge sate
between Eva and Leonore, laying out on the map the plan of the summer
tour. They would visit Thistedal, Ringerig, and Tellemark, and would go
through Trondhiem to Norland, where people go to salute the midnight
sun.

Gabriele looked after her flowers, and watered the myrtle tree from
which next morning she would break off sprays wherewith to weave a crown
and garland for Louise. Jacobi sate near the mother, and seemed to have
much to say to her; what it was, however, nobody heard, but he often
conveyed her hand to his lips, and seemed as if he were thanking her for
his life's happiness. He looked gentle and happy. Every thing was
prepared for the morrow, so that this evening would be spent in quiet.

According to Jacobi's wish the marriage was to take place in the church,
and after this they were all to dine _en famille_. In the evening,
however, a large company was to be assembled in the S. saloon, which
with its adjoining garden had been hired for the purpose. This was
according to the wish of the father, who desired that for the last time,
perhaps for many years, his daughter should collect around her all her
acquaintance and friends, and thus should show to them, at the same
time, welcome politeness. He himself, with the help of Jacobi and
Leonore, who was everybody's assistant, had taken upon himself the
arrangement of this evening's festival, that his wife might not be
fatigued and disturbed by it.

At supper the betrothed sat side by side, and Jacobi behaved sometimes
as if he would purposely seize upon his bride's plate as well as his
own, which gave rise to many dignified looks, to settings-to-rights
again, and a deal of merriment besides.

Later in the evening, when they all went to rest, Louise found her
toilet-table covered with presents from bridegroom, parents, sisters,
and friends. A great deal of work was from Petrea. These gifts awakened
in Louise mingled feelings of joy and pain, and as she hastened yet once
again to embrace the beloved ones from whom she was about so soon to
separate, many mutual tears were shed. But evening dew is prophetic of a
bright morrow--that was the case here.

FOOTNOTES:

[19] There is some new kind of porridge for almost every week in the
year in Sweden, with which the table is most religiously served.--M. H.




CHAPTER XV.

THE WEDDING-DAY.


The sun shone bright and warm on that morning of Whit-Monday. Flowers
and leaves glistened in the morning dew; the birds sang; the bells of
the city rang festively and gaily; the myrtle-crown was ready woven
early, and the mother and Leonore were present at the toilet of the
bride. They expected that Jacobi would make his appearance in the
highest state of elegance, and hoped that his appearance would not dim
that of the bride. Louise's sisters made her appearance on this occasion
of more importance than she herself did. Gabriele dressed her hair--she
possessed an actual talent for this art--half-blown rose-buds were
placed in the myrtle wreath; and what with one, and what with another
little innocent art of the toilet, a most happy effect was produced.
Louise looked particularly well in her simple, tasteful, bridal
dress--for the greatest part of the work of her own skilful hands--and
the content, and the beautiful repose which diffused itself over her
countenance, spread a glorification over all.

"You look so pale to-day in your white dress, my little Eva," said
Leonore, as she helped her to dress--"you must have something pink on
your neck to brighten you up, else our bride will be anxious when she
sees you."

"As you will, Leonore! I can put this handkerchief on, that it may give
a little reflected colour to my cheek. I will not distress any one."

* * * * *

When the festally-arrayed family assembled for breakfast they presented
a beautiful appearance. The family-father, however, looked more gloomy
than gay; and as Jacobi entered they saw, with astonishment, that his
toilet was considerably negligent. He had been out; his hair was in
disorder, and he evidently was in an excited state of mind; but he was
handsome for all that. He kissed his bride tenderly on hand and lips,
and gave her a nosegay of beautiful wild-flowers, and several splendidly
bound books,--the sermons of Franzen and Wallin, which gift was very
valuable, and was received by "our sensible" and sermon-loving Louise
with the greatest pleasure.

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