a month, and then go to England for
the winter, and come to you again in May."

The Pastor took several long pulls at his pipe and created a cloud of
smoke. At last he said--

"I have not thought of it, Mrs. Hardy." And it was plain he had not.

"I will, then, say what I think," said she. "The wedding should be at
your church; and will you marry them?"

"Certainly; it is my intention," he replied.

"The wedding to be as quiet as possible," continued Mrs. Hardy, "and
proprietor Jensen's daughters to be bridesmaids; and John has an old
college friend who will come here to be his best man, and will return
with me to England in the yacht, from Esbjerg."

Mrs. Hardy's practical common sense impressed the Pastor; he assented
sadly.

"There is nothing to mourn over or regret, Herr Pastor, and you will
feel the constant joy of knowing that she is happy with the man of her
choice, and that as long as I live I will watch over her as my own;
also the pleasure of looking forward to her stay in Denmark every
summer will occupy and interest you."

The Pastor smoked in silence, but his heart was sad.

It was fortunate that John and Helga appeared, the latter laden with
blooms gleaned in the valley of roses. Her face was bright with
happiness.

"Mrs. Hardy," she said, "John has persisted in picking rose after
rose, holding them up to my cheek and telling me that I am the fairest
rose, and that I am going to be the rose of Rosendal, and has teased
me dreadfully."

"I think John is right to say so, and to say so to you," said
Mrs. Hardy, smiling kindly at her.

The Pastor felt what Mrs. Hardy had once said, that we should love
with our children's love, and the sadness left his face. He began to
share his daughter's love for Hardy.

Mrs. Hardy rose from her seat, and drew Helga away, and John had to be
content to follow her with his eyes only.

"Your father, Helga, last year, went for a tour with John; can he do
the same now? On Monday, I am going with John in the yacht for a
cruise amongst the Danish islands," said Mrs. Hardy, "do you think he
would like to go with us? It would allow of his being better
acquainted with us, and would distract his thoughts from dwelling on
your leaving him."

"Nothing could be better or kinder, Mrs. Hardy," replied Helga. "I
will write for the priest who generally does my father's duty in his
absence, at once."

"Stay," said Mrs. Hardy, "if your father leaves with us, it will
enable