Herr Jensen looked at the Englishman with interest, as he stood before him in his evening dress, broad-shouldered with fine limbs, his clothes fitting well, and looking like a wedge from his broad chest down to his feet.
They went into an assembly-room, where many guests were gathered. There were several landowners of the district with their families, and John Hardy's simple manners and unmistakable stamp of gentleman made a favourable impression. He was introduced to a Frøken Jaeger, and was told he would have to take her in to dinner. Hardy bowed.
"How old are you?" said Frøken Jaeger.
"Twenty-eight," replied Hardy.
"What is your profession?" inquired Frøken Jaeger.
"Landowner," replied Hardy. And Hardy was subjected to a cross-examination that elicited from him that his father was dead years ago, that his mother lived at Hardy Place, that he was a magistrate for the English county where he resided, and was also an officer in the yeomanry cavalry.
"Then why do you not wear a uniform?" inquired Frøken Jaeger, with some asperity.
"Because it is not allowed, and I do not wish it, when in a foreign country," replied Hardy.
It is to be feared that if the cross-examination had been much longer, that Hardy would have declined to answer any more questions, and have exhibited some of that insularity that is so common in Englishmen; but dinner was announced, and Hardy offered his arm, and Frøken Jaeger was soon occupied in other and more material subjects. She was about thirty-five, according to Hardy's judgment, and had a long sharp nose and an equally sharp chin, tending ultimately to form what some people ungenerously call nutcrackers; but her appetite was good, and it left an opportunity to Hardy to observe his fellow guests.
The Pastor sat near his host, and his daughter was paired with a young Danish landowner, who paid her great attention. Her dress was simple, with an ornament or two inherited from her mother; but her clear complexion, her tall figure and clean-cut features impressed Hardy. She talked with every one with animation, and Hardy could scarcely realize the comparison between the quiet figure steadily knitting with ear and eye always at her father's service to the perfect Danish lady before him.