Mårbacka/Part 4, Chapter 3
Mamselle Lovisa certainly loved and admired her brother the Lieutenant, but she did not see why he need introduce so many changes and newfangled things. She thought Mårbacka might better be left as it was in their parents' time. What went against her most was his wanting to lay out gardens on all sides of the dwelling house.
She had been quite worried when he talked of deepening the river-bed, and felt relieved when his plan miscarried. It was such a pretty sight, when Ämtan overflowed and formed a lot of little shimmering lakes down in the meadows! And she wailed a good deal when her brother cleared away the field flowers. It had been a veritable feast for the eyes when one field was white with daisies, another violet with heart's-ease, and a third yellow with buttercups. And it was a great pity the cows were no longer sent to pasture in the woods. Everybody knew that such thick cream and such yellow butter as one got when they wandered in the forest were never seen when they grazed in the meadow.
In her father's time, and for hundreds of years before, it had been the custom to cut down the saplings, leave them on the ground to dry, then burn them where they lay. The following year the ashes were sown with rye, and, later, these burn-beaten clearings were covered with wild strawberries and raspberries. Mamselle Lovisa naturally took it to heart when her brother no longer burned such "falls."
"Mark my words," she said to him, "there'll soon be an end to the wild berries. Where will they grow if the woods are not burn-beaten? If all were to do as you are doing, we'd never again be able to sit of a summer's evening and watch the pretty fires round the wooded hills."
And she was not pleased with the new barn, either. Of course she did not know very much, she said, but she had been told there was never any comfort in a stone barn.
When the new barn was finished and the old one torn down, and the Lieutenant talked of laying out a new garden, Mamselle Lovisa was beside herself.
"I trust you know what you're about," she said. "A large garden requires constant care, so you will have to figure on keeping a gardener. Unless a garden is properly tended and kept clear of weeds, one might better have none at all."
The Lieutenant let her admonitions go into one ear and out of the other. In the autumn he began tearing down the fences, which had been there since Pastor Wennervik's time—those enclosing the kitchen garden and rose garden and those surrounding the front and back yards.
"Well, this is the end of all comfort and joy in this place!" sighed Mamselle Lovisa. "Think how secure one felt when once inside all the white fences! And what fun it was for the children to run out and open the gates when company came!"
"It was less fun, though, for the one who had to keep so many fences and gates in repair," the Lieutenant replied.
He went right on with his work. When the fences were down he ploughed up the old kitchen garden and the little rose garden, the old trampled sward, the ground where the old barn had stood, and the calf ward, so as to have the grounds cleared for the laying of the garden in the spring.
"Is it true that you're going to remove the kitchen garden?" said Mamselle Lovisa. "To be sure I don't know anything, but I have heard folks say that when the apple trees are allowed to grow in the herb beds they bear well, but if one plants sod round them one can't expect much fruit."
"But dear little Lovisa, I thought you would be glad to have a real garden!"
"Glad! Should I be glad that you are destroying the old Mårbacka? Soon we won't know the place at all."
The Lieutenant thought his sister unusually contentious in this instance, which was the more surprising because she had always loved flowers and cared for all the house plants. But at that time, which was shortly after her engagement had been broken and she was still suffering from the disappointment, he could not say a harsh word to her. All day long she paced the floor of her room and he could hear her restless steps when he sat in the living room reading. He understood that she was not just then quite mistress of herself, and thought it a favourable sign that she took an interest in something outside her own unhappiness. It was better that she should disapprove of his garden than be continually brooding on whether she had been too hasty in sending back the betrothal ring, or whether her fiancé had turned against her because she had put a few leaves of whortleberry in Kaisa Nilsdotter's bridal-crown.
In those days there was an old landscape gardener living in Fryksdalen who in his prime had been head gardener on various large estates. He had the name of being a veritable wizard at garden making, and when anyone contemplated laying out a new garden his advice and assistance were sought.
The Lieutenant had asked him to come to Mårbacka, and in the spring, as soon as the frost was out of the ground, the old man appeared with his drawings and prints. A large corps of workmen was placed at his command; quantities of bushes and trees ordered from the Göteborg nurseries had come, and the big work was now started.
When the ground had been levelled the gardener and the Lieutenant went about all day staking out grass plots and gravel walks. The old man informed the Lieutenant that it was no longer the custom to follow the severely regular French style. Now the paths must all be winding and the borders and flower beds in easy, graceful lines. What he had in mind for Mårbacka he called the English style; but the Lieutenant rather suspected that the style was the old man's own and not of foreign origin.
In front they laid out a big circular lawn, on one side of which they set out shrubbery in the shape of an egg, and on the other shrubbery in the form of a horn of plenty, while in the middle of the round they planted a weeping ash. Up toward the veranda they staked out a star-shaped flower bed, placing as a guard about it four provence-rose bushes—each on its own little round spot.
On the old sand-plot just below the kitchen windows they staked out a large triangle and filled it with rich soil, in which they transplanted the rose bushes from the old rose garden. For of roses they could never have enough. Along the front of the house they set out a low hedge of primroses, and two white-brier-rose bushes were given the places of honour, the one before the parlour window, the other before the front bedroom window.
The Lieutenant took such keen delight in this work that he went about with the gardener all day, and Fru Lagerlöf would snatch long moments from her sewing to go out and have a look at the garden; but Mamselle Lovisa persistently kept to her room. This delightful spring work only tended to increase her sadness. She would rather have had the old trampled sward, with its one little tangle of snowberry bushes. All these innovations seemed to her so unnecessary. But what she thought or said was immaterial; just the same, folk had managed to live at Mårbacka before. All these modern improvements only meant a lot of bother and needless expense.
But the work went on despite her disapproval. Round the stable the gardener planted a hedge of lilacs, also on three sides of the dwelling house, while along the wing he set out a hedge of spiræas. That done, the Lieutenant and the gardener went at the old Wennervik kitchen garden. The fine apple trees they let stand where they were, but the ground about them was laid out in the old man's "English" style, with winding gravel paths and grass plots arranged in various designs. With much skill and calculation each grass plot was embellished with round, oblong, or triangular beds and planted with perennials. Yellow cowslips bordered blue iris, orange crown-imperials edged purple hyssop, and encircling the red carnations was a wreath of pink bellis.
The flower beds of course were up round the dwelling house. Farther back, on both the north and south sides, place was made for gooseberry and currant bushes, for strawberry patches, for plum trees, pear trees, and ever so many cherry trees. At the far southern end, quite a distance away and well out of sight, lay the new kitchen garden, while at the north end was a little birch grove, bordered by mountain ash and bird-cherry trees. This grove the gardener included in his design, in order to create at least the suggestion of a park. He intersected the grove with many narrow winding gravel walks. In three places he cleared away the trees to make room for tables and seats. The first open space was an oblong spot with settees on all sides. Here the lady of the house was to receive her guests, and it was to be called the Tea Corner. The second was a square, with four seats round a table. That was for the master and his company, and the old man jokingly dubbed it the Toddy Corner. The third space had only a long, narrow bench. That was the children's domain, and was to be known as the Kiddies' Corner.
But all this planting left Mamselle Lovisa indifferent. It may almost be said that she scorned and detested it. She had not yet set foot in the new garden.
Soon pale-green sprouts sprang up in the sod, the newly planted bushes sent forth tender, shy little leaves, the perennial plants pushed through the soil of the garden beds; oaks, chestnuts, and Lombardy poplars, which had been planted in the old barn lot, began to bud and show that they were alive.
In the midst of this busy time an unexpected difficulty arose. The old gardener was obliged to go home for a few days, to see to his own garden. That would not have mattered much but for the hot-bed he had made in order to coax up some asters and gilly-flowers for the beds in the front yard.
"Who is going to tend the hot-bed while I'm away?" said the old gardener. "You know, Lieutenant, a hot-bed needs constant watching."
"I'll do it myself," the Lieutenant replied; for by that time he thought himself almost a master gardener. He let the old man show him how to air and water the plants.
The morning the gardener left there was bright, strong sunshine. Along in the forenoon the Lieutenant in alarm went up to the house to find his wife. As she was nowhere about he rushed into his sister's room.
"You'll have to come and help me with the hot-bed, Lovisa," he said. Then, remembering that Mamselle Lovisa would not even look at his garden and took no interest whatever in his work, he thought: "Oh, well, it's said now, and she can't do more than refuse."
But instead she eagerly got up and went out with him. Instantly she saw the little plants, which were wilted and drooping, she exclaimed:
"The sun is too strong on them, they must be shaded." Then she found something with which to protect them, and the plants were saved.
The next day the Lieutenant had to attend a school examination. When well on his way he suddenly remembered the hot-bed. There was the same scorching heat that day as on the previous one. Now the little plants would surely be burnt up, he thought.
The moment he got home he hurried over to the hot-bed. To his surprise and delight all was well; the plants stood up, erect and sturdy. His sister had thought of the poor little things which he had neglected. He promptly decided not to forget to water and close the hot-bed that evening. Sometime after supper he sprang up in alarm.
"Why, Tm forgetting the hot-bed! It should have been closed this long while."
Mamselle Lovisa said nothing, but let him go see for himself. He found the glass lids down and the covers spread over them.
The following day the Lieutenant did not look at the hot-bed or give it a thought. All the same, the little plants fared well. Mamselle Lovisa weeded and loosened the soil round them, watered and tended them in every way. It seemed rather strange that only she should think of the hot-bed; but for her everything sown there would have died. Of course she wished the old gardener would return and relieve her of the work; but while he was away she had to go on with it.
He was gone longer than expected. In the meantime the plants were growing almost too large for transplanting. There was no other course than for Mamselle Lovisa to set them out in the flower beds herself. When that much had been done, what could she do but go on weeding and watering them all summer, until the gilly, petunia, aster, and snap-dragon plants were in bloom!
And when the perfectly formed star before the front steps at Mårbacka appeared resplendent with bright colours, then in some mysterious way the pain was gone from Mamselle Lovisa's wounded heart. The little plants had requited the loving care she had bestowed upon them. They had given her a new interest in life, a new field of activity.
Lieutenant Lagerlöf did not have to engage a head gardener for Mårbacka; Mamselle Lovisa had inherited the old Wennervik bent, and it was she who took care of the garden. The flowers were her faithful friends; they loved her as she loved them. People wondered how she could get them to bloom and glow as in no other garden. They did not know that the flowers had caught colour and sweetness from her vanished dream of happiness.