daughter
be married from your house. But she might have spared herself all
anxiety.

For Mrs. Moeller shrank from every sort of exertion almost as much as
she shrank from sin in all its forms. Therefore she was much relieved
by Mrs. Olsen's proposition, introduced with a delicacy which did not
always characterize that lady's proceedings. However, it was not
Mrs. Moeller's way to make any show of pleasure or satisfaction. Since
everything, in one way or another, was a "cross" to be borne, she did
not fail, even in this case, to make it appear that her long-suffering
was proof against every trial.

Mrs. Olsen returned home beaming. She would have been balked of half
her pleasure in this marriage if she had not been allowed to give the
wedding party; for wedding-parties were Mrs. Olsen's specialty. On such
occasions she put her economy aside, and the satisfaction she felt in
finding, an opening for all her energies made her positively amiable.
After all, the Sheriff's post was a good one, and the Olsens had always
had a little property besides, which, however, they never talked about.
--So the wedding came off, and a splendid wedding it was. Miss Ludvigsen
had written an unrhymed song about true love, which was sung at the
feast, and Louisa eclipsed all the other bridesmaids.

The newly-married couple took up their quarters in the nest discovered
by Mrs. Olsen, and plunged into that half-conscious existence of festal
felicity which the English call the "honeymoon," because it is too
sweet; the Germans, "Flitterwochen," because its glory departs so
quickly; and we "the wheat-bread days" because we know that there is
coarser fare to follow.

But in Soeren's cottage the wheat-bread days lasted long; and when heaven
sent them a little angel with golden locks, their happiness was as great
as we can by any means expect in this weary world.

As for the incomings--well, they were fairly adequate, though Soeren
had, unfortunately, not succeeded in making a start without getting into
debt; but that would, no doubt, come right in time.--Yes, in time!
The years passed, and with each of them heaven sent Soeren a little
golden-locked angel. After six years of marriage they had exactly five
children. The quiet little town was unchanged, Soeren was still the
Sheriff's clerk, and the Sheriff's household was as of old; but Soeren
himself was scarcely to be recognized.

They tell of sorrows and heavy blows of fate which can turn a ma