From this moment Sister Hedvig began to develop a certain coquetry. If she read a silent question in Percy Hill’s eyes she purposely appeared dull and impenetrable. Her instinct told her that a man like him was attracted by the unknown, by what was unlike himself. Consequently she carefully avoided betraying anything of the change that had taken place in herself. She well remembered what he had said about the image of the saint in Toledo and about the sparks from the stake in her eyes. So she now appeared really pale and dark and Spanish. And with secret joy she saw that the Spanish effect did its work. The cool and mocking light had disappeared from Percy’s eyes. Instead there sometimes came a shy and nervous look of supplication. He was clearly in love with her.
Then Stellan called, just at the right moment. He came from what seemed to have been a family council of the Selambs. Curiosity had been stimulated enormously of late. Percy was so rich that you could not help reflecting. Nothing was impossible. It might mean marriage, it might mean a bequest in his will. One did not know if he was going to live or die. Neither Peter nor Laura knew Percy Hill enough to call on him. Hedvig herself was impossible to approach. Laura had tried over the telephone but had, of course, got nothing out of her.
Then at last Stellan came home from a command in Norrland and was sent out to Hill’s villa at once to reconnoitre.
It was a clear, warm, sunny day after a long spell of cruelly disagreeable spring weather. Stellan had a strange gift of always bringing fine weather. Percy was sitting up in an easy chair in front of an open window facing south. Sister Hedvig had slipped away into the darkest corner with some kind of Christian needlework. Such April sunshine was still too much for her. Stellan had ridden out. He was walking up and down the room lightly striking his riding boots with his whip. At first he had been shocked for a moment by Percy’s wasted look, but now he was already praising his rapid recovery. He always talked a lot, Stellan. He had a peculiar tendency to dwell with a mixture of envy and admiration on Percy’s precious art treasures, on his admirable patronage of art and his subtle intelligence. He also returned several times by sly, roundabout ways to the subject of wealth, and money.