all take her in to dinner and place her
at the head of your table, John, as the new mistress of Hardy Place,
and a better there cannot be."

Helga did not clearly understand, and John explained in Danish. "My
mother," he said, "wishes to instal you in the position she has
herself so long occupied as mistress here."

"No," said Helga, decidedly. "I am her daughter, and will serve her
gladly. You surely would not wish me to usurp your mother's place,
John, and that to-day?" She had said this in Danish, and she added in
English, "No, Mrs. Hardy; you are housemother here, and I am your
daughter and owe you a daughter's duty."

It had been Mrs. Hardy's dream that when her son brought his wife
home, the latter should occupy her seat, and rule as Mrs. Hardy of
Hardy Place. As Helga put it, she had got a daughter, and that was
all. Helga took Mrs. Hardy's hand and kissed it.

"What a trump she is, John!" exclaimed Sir Charles Lynton. "She will
be the greatest joy and comfort to your mother all her life. I shall
advertise in the Danish papers for a wife."

"Let Helga sit at your side, mother," said John, "and the Pastor at
your right."

The Pastor did not appear to think what had passed was unusual in his
daughter's conduct, but this little episode prepared the way for young
Mrs. Hardy of Hardy Place acquiring many friends.

During Pastor Lindal's short stay in England, John Hardy did his best
to interest him in English life and manners. The Pastor's wish was to
visit an English country church, and to see the whole working of an
English parish. His disapproval of the gift, or, worse still, the
sale, of a cure of souls was utter and complete.

"Your system of selling or giving livings is bad," he said. "No actual
sympathy can arise between the clergyman and his parishioners unless
they are interested in his selection."

When he had attended the parish church on the Sunday, Hardy questioned
him.

"The perfect neatness and order in the church," said the Danish
Pastor, "leave nothing to be desired; what is wanting is the warmth of
human sympathy and life. The service is cold and lifeless, the sermon
like dead leaves. The congregation hear, but they do not listen. There
is a want of harmony created by your system; it produces a barrier
between your clergyman and his flock; it prevents their working well
together, as a rule. In a few cases you will have exceptional men that
will get over any difficulty, and will do their