The real trouble lay in deciding what she should say. It was clear that
she could not help looking pleased when he arrived, though it would be
her duty to look somewhat sad and sorrowful. Of course she felt for him
and he knew it, but he would perhaps expect her to show it very clearly
in the first minute and would be hurt if she even smiled. It was not
easy not to smile when she saw Greif after a long separation. Perhaps
the best way to look very mournful would be to think that he could not
marry her for a long time, now, on account of the mourning. But then,
Greif had finished his studies and would henceforth be always at home,
which in Hilda's opinion would be almost the same thing as being
married, provided she could see him all the time.
Then she thought of that strange warning she had given him when they
last parted. She had not understood why she spoke, and yet, she had not
been able to keep silence. Surely this could not be what was meant.
Besides, it was superstitious to believe in such things, and she had
been thoughtless in yielding to the impulse. Greif was safe, at all
events, and she supposed that everybody's parents must die some day,
though not necessarily in such a strange way. Her own father had been
killed, too, before she could know him--if she had known him, she would
have loved him, as Greif had loved the old gentleman who was now dead.
Hilda became aware that her reflexions were growing more and more
heartless and that they did not help her at all, especially as she
could not communicate them to Berbel.
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