and leaned
idly against the clambering roses, watching Thelma, as she drew a low
stool to her father's feet and sat there. A balmy wind blew in from the
Fjord, and rustled mysteriously among the pines; the sky was flecked
here and there with fleecy clouds, and a number of birds were singing in
full chorus. Old Gueldmar heaved a sigh of relief, as though his recent
outburst of passion had done him good.

"I will tell you, Sir Philip," he said, ruffling his daughter's curls as
he spoke,--"I will tell you why I detest the villain Dyceworthy. It is
but fair you should know it. Now, Thelma!--why that push to my knee? You
fear I may offend our friends again? Nay, I will take good care. And so,
first of all, I ask you, what is your religion? Though I know you cannot
be Lutherans."

Errington was somewhat taken aback by the question. He smiled.

"My dear sir," he replied at last; "to be frank with you, I really do
not think I have any religion. If I had, I suppose I should call myself
a Christian, though, judging from the behavior of Christians in general,
I cannot be one of them after all,--for I belong to no sect, I go to no
church, and I have never read a tract in my life. I have a profound
reverence and admiration for the character and doctrine of Christ, and I
believe if I had had the privilege of knowing and conversing with Him, I
should not have deserted Him in extremity as his timorous disciples did.
I believe in an all-wise Creator; so you see I am not an atheist. My
mother was an Austrian and a Catholic, and I have a notion that, as a
small child, I was brought up in that creed; but I'm afraid I don't know
much about it now."

The _bonde_ nodded gravely. "Thelma, here," he said, "is a Catholic, as
her mother was--" he stopped abruptly, and a deep shadow of pain
darkened his features. Thelma looked up,--her large blue eyes filled
with sudden tears, and she pressed her father's hand between her own, as
though in sympathy with some undeclared grief; then she looked at
Errington with a sort of wistful appeal. Philip's heart leaped as he met
that soft beseeching glance, which seemed to entreat his patience with
the old man for her sake--he felt himself drawn into a bond of union
with her thoughts, and in his innermost soul he swore as knightly a vow
of chivalry and reverence for the fair maiden, who thus took him into
her silent confidence, as though he were some gallant Crusader of old
time, pledged to defend his lady