a," said John, "I recollect you called me a cool and
calculating Englishman. I shall take you down to the lake, where it
will be cool, and there I shall find a Smorblomst, or a buttercup, and
by placing it to your chin, I shall be able to calculate the
transparency of your complexion from the reflection of colour."

"Don't tease me, John, about what I said to you last year," said
Helga, imploringly. "If I said anything that pained you, I am sorry
for it; but do not always keep it alive against me."

"There is the rose of Rosendal, mother, and the jewel of Hardy Place,"
said Hardy to his mother, on his unpunctual return to lunch. "She is
so good and single-minded that it is impossible to invent ways of
teasing her."

"Then I should not try, John," said his mother.

A few days before John's marriage, his friend and neighbour, Sir
Charles Lynton, arrived at Rosendal.

"It is a lovely place, John," said his friend; "but, I suppose,
nothing to be compared with the loveliness of your Scandinavian
princess?"

"Don't quiz," said Hardy; "but come out and try a cast for an hour or
so for the Danish trout. We can also visit a landowner near, who
breeds good Jutland horses, and I know that is in your line."

"By all means," said his friend.

The stout proprietor, Jensen, was pleased with their visit, and the
opportunity of hearing another Englishman's opinion as to his stock of
horses.

"They want bone," said Sir Charles, "and to be kept better through the
winter."

"Then it would not pay to breed horses," said the proprietor. "A
big-boned horse would be more expensive to keep up, and would not
stand the cold and wet of our climate. We have no market for very
high-class horses; that is, we might sell one now and then, but not
many."

A short tobacco-parliament on horses was inevitable, and hints were
exchanged and thoughts expressed very valuable in their way, but not
necessary to be recorded here.

The wedding took place in the little Danish church at Vandstrup, and
was witnessed by a large number of Hardy's Danish acquaintances and
the Pastor's friends. The Pastor made a long discourse, for his heart
was full.

Mrs. Hardy would not hear of her son's accompanying her to Esbjerg.
She left with Sir Charles Lynton, for Horsens, to continue the journey
the next day to Esbjerg, where the yacht had been sent to meet them.

It was not until the middle of September that John Hardy and his wife,
with Pastor Lindal, left