ound Mrs. Garman in her room, sitting comfortably in her armchair.
Before her she had a tray, on which stood a bottle of water and a small
straw-covered flask of curacoa. On a plate was some chicken, which had
been cut into small pieces and neatly arranged round the edge, and in
the middle was a little shape of asparagus butter, garnished with some
chopped parsley.

When Madeleine and the pastor entered the room, she was just in the act
of holding a piece of chicken on a fork and dipping it into the butter,
but when she saw them she put down her fork with an air of indifference,
and said, "I hope, Madeleine, you will not forget to thank the Lord for
thus changing your obstinate heart; and for you, Mr. Martens, I will
hope and pray that you will never have to repent the step you have
taken."

For a moment Madeleine's eyes seemed to flash, but Mr. Martens hastened
to observe, "My dear Madeleine is quite overcome. Would you not rather
go to your room? We shall meet again to-morrow."

Madeline felt really thankful for his suggestion, and gave him a feeble
smile as he followed her to the door.

When the pastor had gone, Mrs. Garman could not help thinking how
differently people behave as soon as they are engaged. She suspected
that she would not find the chaplain's society so agreeable for the
future.

Pastor Martens was so overjoyed that he could scarcely take his usual
midday nap. Later in the day it began to clear up; it was only a sea-fog
which had come up during the night, as is frequently the case in the
spring. Everything appeared radiant and bright to Martens as he came
along the street from the jeweller's, where he had been to order the
ring, but he took care not to show his feelings; it would not do to look
too pleased on the day before the funeral of his intended's uncle.

In the market-place he met Mr. Johnsen.

"You are coming to the funeral to-morrow?" said Martens, insensibly
leading the conversation into the direction of his own thoughts.

"No," answered Johnsen, drily; "I have to give an address at the Mission
Bazaar."

"What, between twelve and two? Why, the whole town will be following the
funeral."

"It is for the women, my address," said the inspector, as he continued
his way.

"Well," thought Martens, "he is indeed changed! Prayer-meetings,
missions, Bible-readings--quite a different kind of work!" said the
chaplain mysteriously to himself. His feelings were almost too much for
him.

A