an dressed in a
long frock appeared. His head was covered with a cap of black velvet,
from beneath which his white hair escaped. This was Eric's father, and
Alete paid much respect to him.

"Come, my daughter," said the pastor, as with much kind dignity he kissed
her forehead. "You too, my friend, and my gentle Ebba (speaking to M. de
Vermondans and his other daughter), are welcome. You too, Monsieur," said
he, turning to Ireneus, "though I have not before had the honor to see
you, I welcome as a friend. You are all welcome to the hearthside of the
poor priest, and may the festival of to-day be to us a commemoration of
the past, and a happier tie for the future."

The old man took his guests into his own room, in which there was an
Inconsiderable library, a few models of utensils for agricultural
purposes, testifying to both his taste and his occupation. He sat on a
sofa, which debility in his limbs made necessary to him, and placed his
guests beside him. Alete, who could not sit quiet long, soon arose and
took Eric to the window. While, as was the custom with her, she tested
the patient character of her husband that was to be, the old man
conversed with Ireneus, who from the very first had been attracted by his
venerable and pleasing face.

"From these instruments of labor collected around you, I see," said
Ireneus, "that you have contrived a sure method of making your solitude
active. Ebba has already told me how usefully you employ your time."

"Usefully," replied M. Guldberg, with sincere modesty. "Alas! let us act
usefully as we may, how much weakness is there in our will, and
forgetfulness in our best resolutions. If by the grace of God we
accomplish any good, what is that in comparison with what we should do. I
love toil, but I can make no merit of it. In my youth it was a necessity.
The son of a laborer, who earned with his own hands the money which
supported me at school, I was compelled, at every risk, to repay him for
his paternal tenderness by my success. Gradually labor became a habit,
and then a _quasi_ dogma of religion. I thought it my duty, as soon as
possible, to release him from the necessity of sacrifice. I feel myself
attracted by a brotherly sympathy to all who toil. I look with respect on
the sweaty brow and toil-stained hand. God himself prescribed labor to us
as a law, and his infinite goodness unites with obedience to it the
enjoyment of much happiness. Certainly no person with a heart can r