It was a long visit, lasting ten minutes, and a disagreeable one; but Falk bore it patiently, like any other trial; he had for ever broken with the past; in one respect at least; in another he was bound, for he had been compelled during the ten minutes to sign once more.
The next visitors were the sister-in-law, Mrs. Falk, and Mrs. Homan. They found the paper in the dining-room too dark, and the paper in the young wife's room too light. They thought the curtains in the husband's room were not wide enough, the carpet a bad match to the furniture, the clock old-fashioned, and the chandelier too dear for its plainness. One piece of furniture in the young wife's room especially roused their critical faculty, and gave rise to a long, whispered conversation. They called the kitchen black, the landing dirty, the entrance terrible; but otherwise they said everything was quite nice, much nicer than the yard, where there was not even a porter, led one to expect.
This was the second plague, and it passed like everything else in this world.
But Isaac had lost some of his gaiety after the criticism of his wallpapers, and Falk realized for a moment that it was a miserable hole. He opened the windows to let out the evil spirits which had invaded his pleasure garden. Isaac declared that during the wedding days he would have the two women shut up in the debtors' prison, so as to keep them safely away.
And then—then she came. He was standing at the window, and he saw her when she was still too far off to be seen; he expected to be believed when he maintained that she radiated light and that the street through which she was walking was bathed in sunshine. Of course he could have told endless stories of her kindness, sweetness, and beauty; but not even she believed them, and it is not worth while repeating them.
She entered her future home and found everything charming. Isaac went into the kitchen to split some wood and light the kitchen fire. Nobody missed him until he returned with a tray bearing some cups of chocolate. It amused him; he knew that lovers never miss anybody in the wide world, and he found the terrible selfishness, which is called love, a very amiable quality; moreover, everybody admits that it is justified.
"What people said about it?" They said:
"Well, and so Falk is married?"
"Is he? Whom did he marry?"
"A schoolmistress!"