"Yes, I won the race I rode," said Hardy.
"And, father, he would not take the cup, that is the prize he won; he said his horse was a better horse, and gave it to the man who came in second, and a long way behind he was," said Karl.
Frøken Helga knitted, but did not look up.
"And did you not see the race, Helga?"
"Yes, father," said Helga; "and I saw Herr Hardy win it."
"But what is the matter, Helga?" asked her father, with some hardness.
"Father, I have been wrong," said Helga. "Herr Hardy said he did not wish to risk his horse, and that he did not wish to win the race, but that he could easily if he chose. I did not like his professing to be so superior over us Danes, and I told him so, and that he was afraid to ride his horse, and that he knew he would not win. I now know that what he said was quite true, and that he has behaved well."
"You should have heard how they cheered him when he came in," said Karl.
"I do think, Helga, if you made so insulting a speech to Herr Hardy," said the Pastor, with some asperity, "that it should be withdrawn. To tell a man that he is a coward and has false pride is too galling, and when not a single ground for it exists the more so. You might thereby have tempted him to risk his life, to say nothing of his horse."
Helga burst into tears.