A Danish Parsonage Part 24

The next day they drove into Esbjerg, and Garth and Hardy put the horses on board the steamer for England. It would leave in the evening, when the tide would allow it to get out of dock.

The Pastor had arranged to stay the night at Esbjerg, to see the very last of his son Karl on his leaving for England.

As they left, Hardy said, "I shall be at Rosendal in May, and I hope my mother will be with me; but you will hear from me many times before then, and I dare say Karl will write you more frequently than I do."

Helga said simply, "I thank you, Herr Hardy, for your kindness to us."

The steamer left that night, and the next day Pastor Lindal went to the railway station at Esbjerg to take three tickets to the station nearest his parsonage. Three tickets were handed to him, and the Pastor expostulated.

"They are first-cla.s.s tickets, and----"

"Yes," said the station clerk; "but they are already taken and paid for."

CHAPTER XX.

"_Piscator,_--But, look you, sir, now you are at the brink of the hill, how do you like my river, the vale it winds through like a snake, and the situation of my little fis.h.i.+ng-house?"--_The Complete Angler._

As John Hardy drove up to the front of Hardy Place, the young Danish lad was struck with the beauty of the lawns and shrubberies.

"This is by far prettier than Rosendal, Herr Hardy," he said.

Mrs. Hardy had evidently been waiting some time for the sound of wheels on the carriage drive, and as her son alighted, she received him with warm natural affection.

"John, my own boy, I am so glad to see you again," she said; "you have been too long away from your mother."

"You will have me all to yourself until next May, mother, and then you will have me with you at Rosendal," said her son. "But here is Karl Lindal, son of Pastor Lindal, of Vandstrup Praestegaard, Denmark."

The tall, fair-haired lad, with his honest blue eyes, favourably impressed Mrs. Hardy, who could see beyond outward appearance and awkwardness of manner.

"Welcome to Hardy Place, Mr. Karl Lindal," she said, taking the lad's hand kindly. "You can have no better introduction here than as my own boy's friend."

Karl bowed. He saw a tall elderly lady, dressed in good taste and perfect neatness, strikingly like her son. They entered the inner hall, where Mrs. Hardy had been sitting, and tea was served, and she and her son talked to each other with that kindly confidence not so frequent nowadays. Karl looked at the old portraits on the wall, and observed the quiet taste of the decorations and furniture, with its appearance of comfort, so conspicuous in an English home.

Mother and son had much to say to each other; but at length John Hardy observed a tired look on the young Dane's face, and he took him up to the bedroom Mrs. Hardy had directed to be prepared for him, near her son's rooms.

"Karl," he said, "here is your room, and everything you are likely to want ready. If you want anything, press that n.o.b, which rings a bell, and a man-servant will answer it; but as he may not understand you, come for a moment into my dressing-room, and I will show you where my things are, and if you want anything, take it."

There was a strong contrast between Hardy's rooms in his own home and the single little room he had occupied in Denmark, and Karl said so.

"Yes," said Hardy; "you will find a good deal of difference between England and Denmark, but you will find me the same John Hardy."

"I have not dressed, mother," said Hardy, as he came down just before the gong was struck for dinner; "my young Danish friend is not supplied with evening dress, and I thought he might feel a trifle less strange, where everything must strike with the force of novelty a lad of seventeen, if I appeared as he has usually seen me."

"You are the same thoughtful, considerate old John," said his mother, proud of her son's kind heart; "but I do think, John, you look better than when you left."

"I am better," said John. "The fare at the little Danish parsonage was simple and good. At first I missed a few things that I was accustomed to here, but the excellence of the quality of everything at the Pastor's soon made me forget them. I think, too, my mother, I have learnt much. The simplicity with which the Danish Pastor did his work with exact conscientiousness interested me. There was never a thought of postponing a duty under any circ.u.mstances. There was never a thought that a duty done was a sacrifice of self, but his duty was done with a serious singleness of purpose and thorough trust in G.o.d, that had a strong influence on his paris.h.i.+oners. They saw he was sincere and true."

"You are drawing a good picture of the Pastor, John," said his mother; "but," she added in a whisper, as John took her into dinner, "what about the Scandinavian princess?"

"I will tell you all about her after you have seen her photograph,"

said John. "I will give it you when you go into the library after dinner. I will give Karl Lindal some English to read, as he must lose no time in acquiring the language."

Karl Lindal felt awkward and uneasy at dinner. The novelty of everything so occupied him that he was the more gauche in manner. This Mrs. Hardy observed, and said little to him. It was best the lad should be left to get over the change that had impressed him.

When John Hardy joined his mother in the library, he found her with a large reading-gla.s.s, looking at Helga Lindal's photograph. "It is a good face, John, like her brother somewhat, and fine features," said his mother. "Is she tall?"

"About five feet eight, mother," replied John. "She is like her father in character--simple and true, and with common sense."

"But you wrote me, John, that if you did propose to her that she would not accept you, on account of her father wanting her a.s.sistance and relying so much on her," said Mrs. Hardy.

"I did, mother; but her father wished her to become engaged to a curate of his called Holm," said John. "She refused Holm, as she did not like him, and I think her father would wish her to marry any one she did like. His view appears to be that she owes a duty to herself, and he would think it his duty to prevent her sacrificing all her young life even to him."

"Why, the man is right, John, and his photograph says as much!" said Mrs. Hardy. "But, John, answer me plainly--have you said anything to her?"

"No," replied Hardy. "I do not feel certain of myself without you, mother. I want you to see her."

"Have you led her to expect that you might speak to her John?" asked his mother.

"When I went there first, she behaved towards me as if she disliked me," replied John; "but her manner changed. I had offered to teach her to ride: she declined in a very decided way; but in driving to Esbjerg, she said she should like to learn, and that her objection, whatever it was, did not exist longer. I said I would teach her when I came again to Denmark. One evening, I sang the German song you have heard me sing so often, and I turned round suddenly and saw her face; she looked at me as if she loved me with all her heart, but possibly so simple a nature as hers was carried away by the song's influence. I turned away my face, that it might reflect nothing to her."

"Did anything else occur, John?" asked his mother.

"Yes," replied John. "A few evenings before I left, I showed her father and herself your photographs; she exhibited a warm interest in them, particularly that one of the picture. I gave her the photographs, and she thanked me as if I had given her something she had a great wish for."

"It is a long way for an old woman, John," said Mrs. Hardy; "but I would go to the end of the earth to see you happily married. I like her face," added she, looking at Helga Lindal's photograph; "it is good and firm of purpose for so young a woman. Is she ladylike, John?"

"Her manner is simple and sincere," he replied; "and I never saw anything that you, mother, would not approve of; but, living as she does, and has, she has not seen much society, or acquired any artificial manner. Her management of her father's house is practical, and the obedience to her wishes and orders as complete as they ever are in Denmark. Their servants are not as ours are."

"Why you do like her, John," said his mother.

"I do, but I do not feel certain of myself," said John. "The time I have known her is short, and it may be only a pa.s.sing fancy; and what I want, mother, is your help in knowing my own mind, but, above all, hers. You will understand her instantly."

"But why did you buy Rosendal, John?" asked his mother; "in all your letters you never gave a reason."

"I bought it on an impulse," replied John, "but I did think I might want it at the time. It is a place you can live in, mother, until you are tired of it, but from which you can help me."

"I do not think you need fear, John, her being carried off by any one," said Mrs. Hardy, to whom the idea of any woman not being in love with her son was impossible.

"I must risk it," said John, "but I could not do other than I have done. If I had spoken a word to her when a guest in her father's house, it would have been wrong. But I wanted to talk with you, my mother. I have no secrets from you; and John kissed her, and wished her 'Good night.'"

A few weeks at Hardy Place made a great change in Karl Lindal. He talked English better, and his manners were not so boyish. He felt also the influence of the good people about him, and had lost his home-sickness.

The experimental trip in the new steam yacht that Hardy had had built (and which he had christened the _Rosendal_) was a great delight to the young Dane, who was naturally fond of the sea. The yacht made a few short trips in the English Channel, and was then laid up for the winter. Karl made himself useful on board the yacht, and his greatest pleasure was to do anything for John Hardy or his mother. The lad's thankfulness for the kindness he received was thorough, and Mrs. Hardy liked the lad.