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"No, he is not!" burst out Kirstin; "he is at Rasmussen's. He sent that man of his here a while since for a pair of sheets and a bottle of the best brandy to take to Rasmussen's, and you can see the writing he sent by his servant." The Pastor took the scrap of paper and read it aloud. "It is that bold, bad hussey, Karen Rasmussen!" said Kirstin. "How can you know that?" said Frøken Helga.
"But Kirstin has told him I cannot marry, little father," said Helga, "and he believes it." "Herr Hardy will not care what an old woman says," replied her father; "but there is no need to say anything whatever, and nothing must be said unless you feel you could never listen to him." "I do not know what to say, little father," said Helga, with a bright gleam of coming happiness in her eyes.
"That may be," said Hardy; "but I cannot do what I do not think is right." Kirstin was present and heard this conversation, and it met her evident approval. She told the boys that the Englishman must not be teased on a Sunday, that he might wish to read his Bible, and that he must not be disturbed. The boys left the room in bad humour.
The interior of the church was simple to a degree. John Hardy with Karl and Axel sat on the men's side, and Frøken Helga and Kirstin on the other. The service was similar to that of the English Protestant service, although relics of what would be now called Romanism remained. There were candles on the altar, and the Pastor chanted some portion of the service. John Hardy longed for the sermon.
Herr Hardy has written a letter, which I enclose, as he said you might wish to hear from him to say how glad his mother would be to see you on English ground, as an English ship is as English land. If you can come, dear little father, I should be so glad! I hope Kirstin has managed everything for you in my absence.
The explanation of Helga's conduct towards him was clear. He saw that she daily visited the people in the parish, and told the Pastor what was necessary to tell him, and that her usefulness in the parsonage and in every corner of it was a want that she filled. Kirstin understood all this, and saw that it could not be interrupted without a breach of duty.
"Know it!" exclaimed Kirstin; "I am sure of it. No man can be so good as the Englishman appears to be." The Pastor and his family retired to rest with a shock of grief and pain. "He must leave at once," thought the Pastor.
At half-past five the morning of the day after John Hardy's arrival at the parsonage, Kirstin knocked at the door of his room, and brought in the accustomed coffee and its belongings. John Hardy was dressed, as he was always an early riser, and was attaching two large Irish lake trout flies to a stronger casting line than he had selected the night before. "Morn," said Kirstin.
He observed, when she expressed a wish, that neither the wayward boys nor the strong-minded Kirstin had the least thought of acting in opposition to it, and he felt an interest in the opportunity of seeing her in society, and observing whether there would be the same unbending nature. The invitation was therefore accepted.
Kirstin told me the frying-pan would be ready, but not the gentleman's fish." When John Hardy was called to breakfast a Danish breakfast corresponds much to an early English lunch he found Karl and Axel's tongues wagging like a dog's tail at dinner-time, they were so full of the fishing.
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