The Jensens were all on the doorsteps, as Hardy trotted up. The proprietor received him warmly, and his family did the like. He walked round Hardy's horse and admired him, as he had done on a previous occasion.
"It is the breadth of his loins," he said, "that sends him over his jumps. I never saw anything so fine as when he passed the other horses, taking his leaps like nothing; and how he came in with a grand stride, by the winning post!"
"As you breed horses, Herr Jensen," said Hardy, "you should import an English mare of Buffalo's stamp; it would enormously improve your breeding stud. A stallion would not do so well, and would be very costly. It is a slower process, but a more certain one."
"Yes; but we Danes are poor," said the proprietor, "and I cannot afford the purchase of such a mare."
"When I return to England, I will see what I can do for you," said Hardy.
The side saddles were placed on Hardy's Danish horses, and they went to Rosendal, the Frøken Jensens enjoying the ride greatly.
Fru Jensen went through the dairy and criticized, her husband did the same with the farm buildings, and gave Hardy useful and practical advice, which Hardy noted down and afterwards followed.
They strolled through the beech woods, and saw the valley of roses in its ragged and neglected condition. But the good proprietor would insist on seeing the farm, and on this also he gave Hardy many practical hints. They returned to the mansion and had such a lunch as Hardy had been able to arrange, which delighted Frøken Mathilde Jensen from its incompleteness.
"The fact is, Herr Hardy," she said, "you want a wife. You have no idea how to manage anything. We have none of us a napkin, and everything is served abominably."
"I hope to induce my mother to come here next summer," said Hardy; but he knew Mrs. Hardy of Hardy Place would scarcely adapt herself to the situation Frøken Mathilde suggested.