Chapter III (3)

“No matter if it does. It will be a respite, you know. But why discuss such unpleasant things? What capital strawberries, eh, dear? And don’t you think a glass of sherry would go well now after the strawberries?”

Upon which the servant was sent out for a bottle of sherry--the best, naturally.

When Falk’s wife awoke from her afternoon nap on the sofa that day, she apologetically reverted to the subject of debt. She hoped he would not be angry at what she had to say. Angry? No, of course not. What was it? Did she want some money for the house? Louise explained:

“The grocer has not been paid, the butcher has threatened us, and the livery-stable man also insists on having his bill settled.”

“Is that all?” replied the assistant councilor. “They shall be paid at once--to-morrow--every farthing. But let’s think of something else. How would you like to go out for a little drive to the park? You’d rather not take a carriage? All right, then, there’s the tramway; that will take us to the park.”

So they went to the park, and they had dinner in a private room at the Alhambra Restaurant. It was great fun, too, because the people in the general dining-room thought they were a frisky young pair of lovers. This idea amused Gustaf, though Louise seemed a trifle depressed, especially when she saw the bill. They could have had a good deal at home for that amount.

The months go by, and now arises the need for actual preparation--a cradle, infant’s clothing, and so forth.

Falk has no easy time raising the money. The livery-stable man and the grocer refuse further credit, for they, too, have families to feed. What shocking materialism!

At length the eventful day arrives. Gustaf must secure a nurse, and even while holding his new-born daughter in his arms is called out to pacify his creditors. The fresh responsibilities weigh heavily upon him; he almost breaks down under the strain. He succeeds, it is true, in getting some translation to do, but how can he perform the work when at every touch and turn he is obliged to run errands? In this frame of mind he appeals to his father-in-law for help. The old gentleman receives him coldly:

“I will help you this once, but not again. I have little enough myself, and you are not my only child.”

Delicacies must be provided for the mother, chicken and expensive wine. And the nurse has to be paid.

Fortunately, Falk’s wife is soon on her feet again. She is like a girl once more, with a slender figure. Her pallor is quite becoming. Louise’s father talks seriously to his son-in-law, however:

“Now, no more children, if you please, unless you want to be ruined.”

For a brief space the junior Falk family continued to live on love and increasing debts. But one day bankruptcy knocked at the door. The seizure of the household effects was threatened. Then the old man came and took away Louise and her child, and as they rode off in a cab he made the bitter reflection that he had lent his girl to a young man, who had given her back after a year, dishonored. Louise would willingly have stayed with Gustaf, but there was nothing more to subsist upon. He remained behind, looking on while the bailiffs--those men with the sticks--denuded the flat of everything, furniture, bedding, crockery, cutlery, kitchen utensils, until it was stripped bare.

Now began real life for Gustaf. He managed to get a position as proofreader on a newspaper which was published in the morning, so that he had to work at his desk for several hours each night. As he had not actually been declared a bankrupt, he was allowed to keep his place in the government service, although he could hope for no more promotion. His father-in-law made the concession of letting him see his wife and child on Sundays, but he was never permitted to be alone with them. When he left, in the evening, to go to the newspaper office, they would accompany him to the gate, and he would depart in utter humiliation of soul. It might take him perhaps twenty years to pay off all his obligations. And then--yes, what then? Could he then support his wife and child? No, probably not. If, in the mean time, his father-in-law should die, they would be left without a home. So he must be thankful even to the hard-hearted old man who had so cruelly separated them.

Ah, yes, human life itself is indeed hard and cruel! The beasts of the field find maintenance easily enough, while of all created beings man alone must toil and spin. It is a shame, yes, it is a crying shame, that in this life everybody is not provided with gratuitous partridges and strawberries.

FOOTNOTES:

[4] A krone is worth about twenty-eight cents.

IRENE HOLM
BY HERMANN JOACHIM BANG

_Bang was born in Seeland in 1858. During his sojourn among
foreigners he has been at various times journalist, author,
playwright, until he now stands first among Danish writers of
the modern realistic school, for Drachmann can not be accounted
to any school for any length of time._

_Outside of his critical writings his works form a series of
naturalistic romances and novels, showing a deep knowledge of
the sad side of life, all the way from his first novel, called
“Hopeless Struggle,” published in 1880, to “Alive or Dead,”
published in 1900, including the very remarkable play, “Ellen
Urne,” and his short stories. “Irene Holm” is as inconclusive
as life itself, and that is what it is intended to be; that is
the author’s conception of art when dealing with life._

IRENE HOLM
BY HERMANN BANG

Translated by Grace Isabel Colbron. Copyright, 1907, by P. F.
Collier & Son.