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 you to get ready for your wedding in his absence; it will be better so. And here is a little packet. It will meet any expense; it is not from John, it is from me;" and Mrs. Hardy kissed her affectionately and was gone.