I rode back with a heavy heart. All I could do now was to send
the letter to the post-office, Stockholm.
The next day the doctor showed my mistress the scrap of paper
with the message on it from my master, and an hour or two after
that, a letter was sent to her in Mr. Meeke's handwriting,
explaining the reason why she must not expect to see him at the
Hall, and referring to me in terms of high praise as a sensible
and faithful man who had spoken the right word at the right time.
I am able to repeat the substance of the letter, because I heard
all about it from my mistress, under very unpleasant
circumstances so far as I was concerned.
The news of my master's departure did not affect her as the
doctor had supposed it would. Instead of distressing her, it
roused her spirit and made her angry; her pride, as I imagine,
being wounded by the contemptuous manner in which her husband had
notified his intention of sailing to Sweden at the end of a
message to a servant about packing his clothes. Finding her in
that temper of mind, the letter from Mr. Meeke only irritated her
the more. She insisted on getting up, and as soon as she was
dressed and downstairs, she vented her violent humor on me,
reproaching me for impertinent interference in the affairs of my
betters, and declaring that she had almost made up her mind to
turn me out of my place for it.
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