ive on, when the Pastor
appeared in the door-way, with a friendly bow. He knew Consul Hartvig by
sight--the leading man of the town.

"If your party will make the best of things here, it will be a great
pleasure to me; and I think I may say that, so far as the view goes--"

"Oh no, my dear Pastor, you're altogether too kind; it's out of the
question for us to accept your kind invitation, and I must really beg
you to excuse these young madcaps," said Mrs. Hartvig, half in despair
when she saw her youngest son, who had been seated in the last carriage,
already deep in a confidential chat with Ansgarius.

"But I assure you, Mrs. Hartvig," answered the Pastor, smiling, "that so
pleasant an interruption of our solitude would be most welcome both to
my daughter and myself."

Mr. Lintzow opened the carriage-door with a formal bow, Consul Hartvig
looked at his wife and she at him, the Pastor advanced and renewed his
invitation, and the end was that, with half-laughing reluctance,
they alighted and suffered the Pastor to usher them into the spacious
garden-room.

Then came renewed excuses and introductions. The party consisted of
Consul Hartvig's children and some young friends of theirs, the picnic
having been arranged in honor of Max Lintzow, a friend of the eldest son
of the house, who was spending some days as the Consul's guest.

"My daughter Rebecca," said the Pastor, presenting her, "who will do the
best our humble house-keeping permits."

"No, no, I protest, my dear Pastor," the lively Mrs. Hartvig interrupted
him eagerly, "this is going too far! Even if this incorrigible Mr.
Lintzow and my crazy sons have succeeded in storming your house
and home, I won't resign the last remnants of my authority. The
entertainment shall most certainly be my affair. Off you go, young men,"
she said, turning to her sons, "and unpack the carriages. And you,
my dear child, must by all means go and amuse yourself with the young
people; just leave the catering to me; I know all about that."

And the kind-hearted woman looked with her honest gray eyes at her
host's pretty daughter, and patted her on the cheek.

How nice that felt! There was a peculiar coziness in the touch of the
comfortable old lady's soft hand. The tears almost rose to Rebecca's
eyes; she stood as if she expected that the strange lady would put her
arms round her neck and whisper to her something she had long waited to
hear.

But the conversation glided on. The y