It was such an advantageous offer, Elizabeth explained--an almost
independent place in the house; and Madam Beck had herself advised her
to take it.

But though she used all her wit to keep the other off the scent, Marie
Forstberg found a want of connection somewhere, and Elizabeth could see
it in her eyes. She asked no further questions, however; and when they
took leave of each other they embraced, in tears.

Out at Tromö the surprise was great when it was found that Elizabeth had
gone. Carl Beck had found her letter under the door, but had never
imagined that she had left, and had gone out with it in violent
agitation of mind and did not come home again till late in the
afternoon. Madam Beck had in the meantime confided the matter to her
daughters, and they would understand, she said, that not a word of it
must be mentioned outside the house.

Although his eyes sought for her unceasingly, Carl made no express
inquiry after her till the evening, and when he heard that she was gone,
and was perhaps by that time already under sail for Holland, he sat for
awhile as if petrified. Looking scornfully at them then, one after
another, he said--

"If I thought that I had any of you to thank for this, I'd--" here he
seized the chair he had been sitting on, dashed it down upon the floor
so that it broke, and sprang up-stairs.

But her letter was unfortunately clear enough--she loved another, and he
knew, too, who it was.