All day and all night the fun ran high, with singing and dancing and feasting.

When there was a lull in the merriment, it was because a long procession had formed to accompany the bride and bridegroom to the church.  After the ceremony was over, and the same procession had accompanied them to the shore of the lake, some one called out, “Now let us choose a queen and crown her, and carry her back to the May-pole where she shall decide who is the best dancer.”

Oh, it was a hard moment for many of them then, for every maiden hoped that she would be the one to be chosen.  But Nils Jorn caught sight of Gerda’s merry smile, and nodded toward her.

“Gerda Ekman has seen plenty of dancing in Stockholm,” he said.  “Let her be our queen.”

“Yes, yes!” shouted the others; and for a moment it looked as if Gerda would, indeed, have her wish to wear a crown.  But when she saw Karen’s wistful look, she turned quickly to her friends and said, “Let me, instead, choose the queen; and I will choose Karen Klasson.  I want this to be the happiest day of all the year for her.”

“One queen is as good as another,” said Nils Jorn cheerfully; so they led Karen back to the May-pole and she was made queen of the festival and crowned with green leaves.

After a few minutes Gerda found a seat beside her under the canopy of birch boughs, and the two little girls watched the dancing together.

Everyone was happy and jolly.  The fiddler swept his bow across the strings until they sang their gayest polka.  The accordion puffed and wheezed in its attempt to follow the merry tune.  The platform was crowded with dancers, whirling and stamping, turning and swinging, laughing and singing.

The tall pole quivered and shook until all the streamers rustled, all the flags fluttered, and all the birch leaves murmured to each other that summer had come and the sun god had conquered the frost giants.

“This is truly the happiest day of all my life,” Karen said; “and it is you, Gerda, who have made it so.  I was lame and lonely in the cold Northland, and you came, bringing me health and happiness.”

“Mother says I must never forget that I was named for the goddess who shed light and sunshine over the world,” replied Gerda soberly.  Then she drew her friend closer and whispered, “But think, Karen, of all the good times we shall have next year, when you can go to school with me, and we can share all our happiness with each other;” and she clapped her hands and whirled Karen off into the crowd of dancers,—­the gayest and happiest of them all.