t was best the lad
should be left to get over the change that had impressed him.

When John Hardy joined his mother in the library, he found her with a
large reading-glass, looking at Helga Lindal's photograph. "It is a
good face, John, like her brother somewhat, and fine features," said
his mother. "Is she tall?"

"About five feet eight, mother," replied John. "She is like her father
in character--simple and true, and with common sense."

"But you wrote me, John, that if you did propose to her that she would
not accept you, on account of her father wanting her assistance and
relying so much on her," said Mrs. Hardy.

"I did, mother; but her father wished her to become engaged to a
curate of his called Holm," said John. "She refused Holm, as she did
not like him, and I think her father would wish her to marry any one
she did like. His view appears to be that she owes a duty to herself,
and he would think it his duty to prevent her sacrificing all her
young life even to him."

"Why, the man is right, John, and his photograph says as much!" said
Mrs. Hardy. "But, John, answer me plainly--have you said anything to
her?"

"No," replied Hardy. "I do not feel certain of myself without you,
mother. I want you to see her."

"Have you led her to expect that you might speak to her John?" asked
his mother.

"When I went there first, she behaved towards me as if she disliked
me," replied John; "but her manner changed. I had offered to teach her
to ride: she declined in a very decided way; but in driving to
Esbjerg, she said she should like to learn, and that her objection,
whatever it was, did not exist longer. I said I would teach her when I
came again to Denmark. One evening, I sang the German song you have
heard me sing so often, and I turned round suddenly and saw her face;
she looked at me as if she loved me with all her heart, but possibly
so simple a nature as hers was carried away by the song's influence. I
turned away my face, that it might reflect nothing to her."

"Did anything else occur, John?" asked his mother.

"Yes," replied John. "A few evenings before I left, I showed her
father and herself your photographs; she exhibited a warm interest in
them, particularly that one of the picture. I gave her the
photographs, and she thanked me as if I had given her something she
had a great wish for."

"It is a long way for an old woman, John," said Mrs. Hardy; "but I
would go to the end of the earth to see you h