"It is the way you listen," said Helga, "that my father likes. You cannot, he says, speak Danish as well as we Danes, but your manner of listening is perfect, and that there is a respectful attention impossible to describe."
"I can describe it," said Hardy, laughing. "The fact is, I know Danish not very perfectly, and my whole attention is necessary to grasp what is said."
"I told him so," said Helga; "but he said there is more than that—it was true politeness."
"Well," said Hardy, "you have now explained that you have not so good an opinion of me as your father."
"No," said Helga; "that's not my meaning. I only related what passed, and I am not able to judge any one like my father."
"I have heard, however, that you have differed from your father in judging a particular person," said Hardy, "and a man whom your father speaks well of."
"That is Kapellan Holm," said Helga, quickly, "My father has told you about him?"
"Yes," replied Hardy; "but I do not wish you to tell me any more about him, and to prevent your thoughts being occupied by the Kapellan, would you like to drive a few miles?"
"Gladly," replied Helga, using the pretty Danish phrase that so well expressed her meaning.
She insisted on taking off her gloves to drive, and said she could not feel the reins so well, and disliked wearing gloves in hot weather.