th the nakedness of the surrounding
country, was forcible, and John Hardy was impressed by the natural and
distinctive beauty of the place.

Froken Helga had scarcely replied to his attempts at conversation on
the way to Rosendal. She had run races with her brothers and entered
into all their whims and caprices, but to John Hardy she had only
replied in monosyllables; but when she saw the effect the beauty of
the place had on Hardy, she said--

"Is it not a pretty place?"

"It has its peculiar beauty, Froken Helga," replied Hardy.

"I would rather live here than any place I know," said Helga. "The
peace and calm of the beech woods, and the fret of the wind waves on
the shore of the lake, suggest thoughts that are unspeakable to me."

Hardy started. She had spoken in a simple manner, but he felt that she
experienced all she uttered. He now understood Pastor Lindal's words
that Rosendal was Helga's enthusiasm. Then there was an appreciation
of nature and her mysteries that Hardy had thought impossible out of
English refinement and its influence.

"Can we go through the house?" said Hardy, as if with a sudden
determination. "I wish to see it."

"The Forvalter or bailiff lives in the house, and if he is not at home
his wife is, or their servant," replied Helga.

The house had reception-rooms after the older Danish fashion, and were
such as could be made comfortable, even to an English tenant. John
Hardy asked the bailiff's wife if she could point out the boundary of
the property; and this was done from the rising ground behind the
house. A visit to the valley of roses was made, and a stroll through
the beech woods. Karl and Axel had ran to the shores of the lake, and
had hunted along its banks to find wild ducks' eggs, happily without
success.

On the way back to Pastor Lindal's parsonage, John Hardy attempted a
conversation with Froken Helga; but it failed utterly. She talked with
her brothers and walked with them. Hardy saw he was avoided. He had
seen the same conduct in young girls in France, and attributed it to
the same reason, and said nothing more.

The Pastor, when his pipe had been, as usual, filled by Helga after
dinner, and at the first vigorous puffs, addressed Hardy.

"Let me hear about Rosendal, Herr Hardy. I can listen, but when Helga
has filled my pipe, can make any allowance then, for anybody's
prejudices, even an Englishman's."

"Rosendal is a place with an accidental, peculiar beauty," said