"No, I can find her,--you need not bother."

Henrik obtained the proper directions, and set out immediately. Was
there then one other of his family that had received the gospel--one
that could help him? He boarded a car, getting off at the store. Going
to the department in which she worked, he asked the floor-walker where
he could find Miss Bogstad. Then he saw her behind a counter, resting
for a moment, unoccupied. Though she was an American, Henrik could see
the Norwegian traits in his fair cousin. She was of the dark type, with
round, rosy lips and cheeks, and heavy, brown hair.

"I am your cousin Henrik from Norway," he said as he shook her hand.

Her smile burst into a soft, merry laugh as she greeted him. "I am glad
to see you," she said. "I heard you were here, but thought perhaps I
might not get to meet you."

He held her hand a long time, as he looked into the pretty, sweet face.
Had he been an American, he would, no doubt, have kissed her then and
there; but being a Norwegian, he only looked his wonder and pleasure.

They could not talk much because customers had to be served; but Henrik
lingered until closing time, saying he would walk home with her that
they might talk. She expressed her pleasure at the proposition; and
promptly at the closing gong, she donned her wraps and joined him. The
day was warm, and he suggested a walk around by the park, where they
might sit down on a bench under the trees.

It was a difficult matter for seriously minded Uncle Jens and his family
to laugh, and even a smile was seldom seen on their faces; but here was