A Danish Parsonage Part 10

"Yes. There he sits!" said the bailiff's wife, pointing at Hardy.

"How do you know I am the owner of Rosendal?" asked Hardy.

"Because the Prokuratr Steindal has written my man to say so," said the bailiff's wife, "and we have expected it all along."

"If that be the case, Herr Pastor, you might have allowed me to catch a pike for lunch," said Hardy; "for the boys did not."

"But have you bought Rosendal, Herr Hardy?" asked Frken Helga.

"I did so when in Copenhagen," said Hardy. "Is there any reason why I should not?"

"But why have you not said a word to us?" asked Pastor Lindal.

"Because it was so uncertain, and because I wished, as a surprise to you, to say that any enjoyment of Rosendal stands at your disposition and your family's," replied Hardy.

They all looked at Hardy, but there was no doubt of the sincerity of his meaning.

"And may we come here and catch the pike?" asked Karl, with some anxiety.

"Yes, if you can, every fin of them," replied Hardy; "and we will, if the Pastor will now allow me, catch some this afternoon. I dare say Rasmussen's widow would like as many as we can catch. We will set a lot of lines and leave them, and roam about the place and visit them later, and the chances are, if there be pike, we shall catch a few."

They wandered through the grounds and over the house and buildings with renewed interest.

"Do you understand the management of such a property, Hardy?" inquired Pastor Lindal, who, since the Rasmussen incident, rarely addressed him otherwise than by his name simply.

"I understand farming and the management of landed property in England," replied Hardy; "and it does not appear to me so very difficult to manage so small a place as Rosendal, with common sense and the a.s.sistance of so good a cla.s.s of people as are already on the estate. I shall not, for instance, begin to cut down the beech trees, or drain the lake, although in an economical sense both would pay to do. The lake could be drained to a good meadow; draining at the same time the meadows adjoining, while the beech trees could be sold, and the land they occupy turned into tillage. The house is a poor residence and out of repair, so are the farm-buildings; but the place has its peculiar charm, which I should not interrupt."

Pastor Lindal regarded the practical self-possessed Englishman with surprise.

Hardy observed a look of displeasure in Helga's face at the thought of so pretty a situation being turned into a practical farm, so he said--

"I have not possession yet, and shall not have until after I leave Denmark this summer, and I could do nothing now; but my intention is to consult a professional English landscape gardener, with the view of increasing the attraction of Rosendal. He would do nothing that would appear inconsistent with the natural beauty of the place."

"But he will cut it up and make all sorts of changes!" said Helga, in a disappointed tone.

"Yes," said Hardy; "and I see you think that it would not be the same old Rosendal to you again; but you have not seen how pretty the surroundings of our English homes are made by these means, and the exercise of judicious taste."

"But it would not be the same Rosendal to me," said Helga, unconsciously uttering the very thought Hardy had read in her handsome face.

"Possibly not," replied Hardy; "but your first exclamation would be that you could not have believed Rosendal could have been made so beautiful. A natural gem must be polished to exhibit its full beauty."

"That may be; but the thought of seeing Rosendal changed, Hardy, is what strikes us," said the Pastor.

"Well, Herr Pastor, there is one thing I will do," said Hardy, "and that is, before I do anything the plans shall be submitted to your and Frken Helga's judgment."

"Which, I fear, we shall not understand," said the Pastor.

"Yes, you will, because you will have the plan of the estate, as it now exists, before you as well as the plan of the proposed alterations; but, as far as I myself can see, no striking change would be desirable, or would be suggested."

"But why have you bought Rosendal, Herr Hardy?" asked Helga, looking full at him. She had all a woman's curiosity, and it was inexplicable to her what motive Hardy could have had for his purchase.

"I will tell you when my mother comes here next year," said Hardy.

"You have bought it for a residence for your mother, then?" said Helga, inquiringly.

"I cannot say I have," replied Hardy.

They had come to the sh.o.r.es of the little lake, where the two boys had been anxiously watching the trimmers that Garth had a.s.sisted them in setting round the reeds; but although they saw several fish were on, Garth would not let them take the boat to the lines until his master came. Hardy saw the situation, and said--

"Don't wait, Bob; take the lads to the lines, and let them pull them up."

Several pike were brought ash.o.r.e, but none of any size. It had been the habit of the former owner of Rosendal to use nets, and take out the largest fish, so as not to allow a few monsters to tyrannize over the rest of the fish in the lake. The boys had seen similar tackle to the English trimmers, but neither so neat nor effective.

"We do not consider this method of fishing a fair way in England,"

said Hardy; "it is adopted by poachers, to steal fish from private ponds, and it is not popular with anglers. The approved method is to troll for pike."

"Very interesting to the fish, if they only knew it," said the Pastor.

"I fear when on the hooks they would scarcely appreciate the distinction. For my part, I do not like the mode of fishing you have just practised, as a little fish is kept in misery until the pike chops him with his teeth, or it dies on the hook."

"You are quite right to condemn it in that way," said Hardy; and, turning to Karl and Axel, added, "You hear what your father says; so when you wish to fish here you must troll, as you saw me do at Silkeborg; and as only one can troll in the boat at one time, I will give you my trolling-rod and gear, so that you can fish when you like."

"Thank you, so much, Herr Hardy," said the boys at once. "You are always good, and think so much about us."

"You are kind. Hardy," said the Pastor; while Frken Helga looked as if she did not understand Hardy.

As they walked up to the mansion from the lake, they went through the valley of roses, which has before been described as giving the name to Rosendal.

"What do you say, Frken Helga, to this place?" asked Hardy. "Is there no room for improvement here? There are a few ragged rose bushes widely distributed, and in the whole valley of roses scarcely a dozen roses in bloom at a time of the year when there should be abundance."

"More roses might be planted, Herr Hardy," said Helga; "but your view would be to plant a straight row of standards, with a gravel walk down the middle."

"You are like Kirstin, always imputing evil to me," said Hardy. "Such a walk would destroy the natural effect of the valley, and would be a sin to do."

Helga started. She did not know that Hardy was ignorant of Kirstin's conduct towards him. The Pastor, with his delicate instinct, at once saw that Hardy was ignorant of Kirstin's tale of shame, or he would not have referred to it.

"Whatever Hardy does, Helga," said the Pastor, "will be thoughtfully done."

"No doubt of it," said Helga; "he is a cool and calculating Englishman." She was vexed at the illusion to Kirstin.

When they came close to the mansion, Hardy said, "Now, here the grounds do not require alteration, provided they were always covered with snow, which, however frequent, is not what we can fall back upon in a summer residence, which Rosendal is. There is the straight drive up to the door steps, a clump of bushes each side of a bit of meadow gra.s.s, and that is all; and there is a straight view from the house to the lake, there is no break or change, nothing catches the eye except the tethered cows. It is like the toy houses made at Leipsic for children to play with. Surely a change that introduces a thought of beauty in the landscape would not be destructive to Rosendal, Frken Helga."

"You appear, Herr Hardy, to find fault with everything Danish," said Helga, sharply; "our horses are inferior, our houses are, and even our gardens are."

"But I never said you were," broke in Hardy, with a laugh.

"No; but I see you think it," retorted Helga. "You have heard me say that I like Rosendal as it is, and you exhibit your English ideas to show how uncivilized and wanting in taste I am."

"But are you not imputing evil," said Hardy, "like Kirstin, the grossly suspicious?"