erk. She had heard at home that in his youth he had
once been disappointed in love, and that that was the reason why he had
never married, and had become so strange. Then in eager haste she drew
out of her pocket--she still wore her old, short, blue-checked,
every-day dress, but her hair "in grown-up fashion"--a cross of small,
blue beads. She also drew from her pocket a silk cord which I was to
wear round my neck nearest my heart.

With some further trouble she produced from the pocket that contained so
much, a small pair of scissors. With these she cut off a curl of my
hair, just that black one on the temple, that she had long had her eye
upon, she said, and which she meant to keep in her confirmation locket.
When I asked for one of hers that I "had long had my eye upon," she said
it was not necessary, as the bead cross she had given me was threaded on
her own hair.

Then there was something I must promise her, which she had thought out
while she sat sewing at home, for she thought of so much then. It was,
that when I became a student, I should give her a gold engagement ring
with the inscription "David and Susanna" on one half of the inside, and
on the other half there should be "like David and Jonathan." It was the
disagreement between our parents that had made her think of this.

"But," she broke off, "you are not listening to me, David?"

And, indeed, I was thinking about something else, and that was, whether
I dared give her a farewell kiss: I remembered last summer out among the
Vaette Rocks.

At that moment there was a scraping of feet on the doorstep outside,
which meant that the clerk thought our interview must soon come to an
end, and, to my disappointment, Susanna hastened to hide the presents,
which I still held in my hand, in my breast pocket. She had just done
this when the clerk came in, and said that now we must say good-bye to
one another.

Susanna looked at the clerk, and then, pale, and with eyes full of
tears, at me, as if the thought that we were to part now struck her for
the first time. She made a quick movement--she evidently wanted to throw
her arms round my neck, but restrained herself, because the clerk was
present.

So she only took my hand, lifted it to her lips without saying a word
and hurried away.

It was more than I could bear, and I think it was too much for the old
clerk too. He walked up and down, gently twanging his violin strings,
while I, at the table, let my tears flo