ay I shall have a
right to open your letters, but now be quick and open this yourself."

Eric unsealed the letter; and scarcely had he read it, then casting
himself at the feet of the old priest, he said--"Ah, father, how I thank
you! Then turning to Alete, he said--

"It is an appointment by the Bishop of Hernos and of myself as vicar of
this parish. We waited only for that to be able to marry. Now there is no
obstacle to our happiness. We will live here with my father, near your
own family. May God grant that our hearts may not be disunited. May God
grant us new pleasures without robbing us of those of the past. Now, when
shall we be married--tell me?"

"How you go on!" said Alete. "Must I, because it has seemed fit to our
venerable prelate to make you a vicar--(after all it is a sensible
appointment)--put on my wedding dress and go to the altar? Do you know I
expect a letter from Hernosand or Stockholm! Do you know------"

The artless girl, however, sought in vain to conceal, beneath pretended
laughter, her deep emotion. She was unable to finish her sentence. She
threw herself in her father's arms, then into the old priest's, and gave
her hand with dignity to Eric. She said:

"Whenever you please, dear Eric, though I am much amazed. I trust you
will never have occasion to repent having given me your love and honor."

This episcopal letter the pastor had received on the previous evening,
and he had been courageous enough to keep the secret until Christmas
night, in order to give it more solemnity. It was now the sole subject of
conversation, and they talked only of preparations for the marriage, and
of the day on which it was to be celebrated. At the instance of Alete he
consented to prolong the delay, and the wedding was postponed for a
fortnight.

"Confess," said Alete to Ireneus, "that you were fortunate in arriving
here in the middle of winter, when you could witness our dark tempests,
our Christmas festivals, and be present at a Swedish wedding. You will
then have only to behold our delicious summer nights; and then, when you
return to France, you will be able to speak more learnedly of Sweden than
other travelers, who wrote long volumes about it."

"I owe to this country some of the pleasantest hours of my life. I owe to
it a calmness which I cannot any longer find in France. I am indebted to
it for good and healthful emotions. I owe to it, exile as I am, a tender
asylum, a family; and I shall feel your