A Danish Parsonage Part 18

"It is the Scotchman, Macdonald, the gardener, my mother has sent over to see Rosendal," said Hardy. "May he come in and show you his plans?"

"We should like to see them beyond everything," said Frken Helga, eagerly.

"The difficulty about the place is that the farmyard is at the house,"

said Macdonald. Hardy interpreted.

"We cannot interfere with that now, Macdonald. We must make the best of it as it is," said Hardy.

"Just what I expected," said Macdonald, unfolding his plans. "There is the plan of Rosendal as it now is--that is, the house, woods, lake, and gardens; you must look it all over first, and see if you know the place, and then you'll be prepared for the next plan. You see, Mr. Hardy, there is practically little room for alteration. The little low whitewashed wall round the house can come down, the kitchen garden made into a shrubbery with walks; the turf is so coa.r.s.e that you cannot make anything of it. The kitchen garden can be placed at the back. The valley of roses can be made into a pretty place, and I should advise the _Pinus Montana_ being planted, to contrast with its dark green the roses when in bloom; it will shelter them also. The little wall being down, the ground can be sloped and planted, as shown in plan. For the valley of roses I have prepared a large plan."

Hardy interrupted, but seeing the Pastor about to speak, said--

"No, Herr Pastor; we must have Frken Helga's opinion first. She it is that has so blamed the obstinacy of my conduct in thinking that Rosendal can be improved. Let her speak; but, first, Macdonald has more to say."

Macdonald suggested several other changes, which, although small in themselves, yet in the aggregate made considerable alteration.

"Well, Frken Helga?" said Hardy, after she had seen the plans.

"I think it will make Rosendal perfectly lovely," said Helga, warmly.

"I should not have thought it possible so few simple changes could effect so much."

"The cost," said the Pastor, "cannot be much either. I heartily approve of the plans."

"We will come over and see you at Rosendal to-morrow, Macdonald, and go through the plans on the spot," said Hardy. And after Macdonald had experienced the hospitality of the Pastor, he left.

"He is a clever man," said the Pastor, referring to Macdonald.

"He is a good man," said Hardy; "but he has been educated to such work, and consequently he sees things that did not even strike the quick intelligence of Frken Helga Lindal."

"I have been very foolish and----" said Helga, but stopped and blushed.

"Not at all," said Hardy. "You had liked Rosendal as it is. It was very natural that you should have thought any change would be for the worse."

"Thank you, Herr Hardy," said Helga; but her voice had a softer tone.

"I wish," she added, after a pause, "you would sing to us the German song you sang once to my father."

Hardy rose at once and did so. He looked round to ask if he should sing another song, when he saw Helga looking at him as a woman sometimes looks at the man to whom she has given her heart. Her back was turned to her father and brothers. Hardy sang the popular "Folkevise," beginning--

"Det var en Lrdag aften Jeg sad og vented dig Du loved mig at komme vist Men kom dog ej til mig."

This song of the people possesses a rare plaintiveness, and describes how a peasant girl had expected her lover, but he came not, and her grief at seeing him with a rival. The ballad is touching to a degree, and the verse--

"Hvor kan man plukker Roser Hvor ingen Roser groer?

Hvor kan man finde Kjaerlighed Hvor Kjaerlighed ej boer?"

"Where can one pluck roses Where no roses grow?

Where can one find affection Where no affection lives?"

is exquisitely tender. Helga had heard the song often, and sang it herself, but it had never seemed to possess such a depth of feeling.

Hardy got up from the piano, and saw that Helga's eyes were tearful.

"I thank you, Hardy," said the Pastor. "No man can sing like that unless his heart is true."

"I am sure of it, father," said Helga. "I never heard anything so beautiful in my life!"

"But, Hardy, you are going away; and how will you take the piano?"

asked Pastor Lindal.

"If you would allow it to remain with you, Herr Pastor, during the autumn and winter, I should be much indebted to you," said Hardy. "But if Frken Helga would accept it as a recollection of a cool and calculating Englishman, I will give it her with pleasure."

Before the Pastor could reply, his daughter had.

"I will accept it gratefully;" and she rose up and, after the Danish manner, gave her hand to Hardy, and said, using a Danish expression, "a thousand thanks."

"Thank you, Hardy, very much," said the Pastor. "You have done us many kindnesses; but after visiting the poor and the sick in my parish, the knowledge that I shall hear my daughter's voice, that is so like my wife's, singing in the winter evenings, will be a comfort to me."

The next day they went to Rosendal, and met Macdonald with his plans.

The being on the spot and understanding what was proposed to be done was a different thing to seeing the plans at the parsonage. The reality struck Helga. She was much interested, and Hardy saw that she understood and entered into everything. There was nothing to suggest or to alter in Macdonald's plans, and Hardy at once arranged for their execution. The Danish bailiff was at first obstructive, but Hardy's quiet, decisive manner changed the position, and gradually it dawned upon him that the place would be greatly improved, and that the residence of an English family for part of the year at Rosendal would not prejudice him.

Karl and Axel had been on the lake trolling, but they had caught nothing, and came back disappointed to the mansion, and begged Hardy to fish, if but to catch one pike.

Hardy said he could not leave the Pastor and his daughter while he went fis.h.i.+ng with them.

"We must have a pike for dinner," said the Pastor, "and as the boys cannot catch one, you must, Hardy."

"May I go in the boat?" asked Helga. "I have never seen Herr Hardy fish."

"Oh, pike-fis.h.i.+ng is nothing," said Karl "It is trout-fis.h.i.+ng with a fly that Herr Hardy does so well."

Hardy got into the boat, and put his gear in order, which had been disarranged by the boys' efforts to fish. A man accustomed to the lake rowed it, and Helga stepped into it. She remarked it was wet and dirty.

"That is the boys' doing," said Hardy, as he pulled off his coat for her to sit on.

They rowed on the lake, and Hardy cast his trolling-bait with the long accurate cast habitual to him, and caught four pike, and then directed the boat to be rowed ash.o.r.e.

As Frken Helga stepped ash.o.r.e, where her father and brothers were waiting for her, she said, "I can understand the boys' enthusiasm for Herr Hardy; when Lars (the boatman) pointed out a place where a pike might be, although yards away, the bait was dropped in it and the pike caught. I wish Herr Hardy would let me see him catch fish on the Gudenaa with flies."

"We can do that to-morrow evening," said Hardy, "as you cannot get up at three in the morning, as we are accustomed to do."

"I cannot let little father miss his evening talk with you, Herr Hardy, and to get up at three in the morning these summer days is no hards.h.i.+p to me. May I go to-morrow?" asked Helga.

"Certainly, if you wish it," said Hardy.

As they returned home, Karl expressed no wish to ride Buffalo, and Garth rode it, and Hardy drove his Danish horses.