“Then,” I said, pretending to be offended, “I sing like a fool?”

“Exactly,” he said with enthusiasm, his eyes beaming with joy through his spectacles.

This was hopeless.  I moved gently away from the man who “talked English.”

The candles had burned down almost to their bobeches, and we were beginning to forget that we had eaten a dinner of fifteen courses, when in came a procession of servants with piles of plates in their arms and trays of smoerdroed (sandwiches), tea, beer (in bottles), and cakes, which are called here kicks.  Everything seemed very tempting except the things handed about by the stable-boy, who was dressed for the occasion in a livery, much too large, and was preceded and followed by a mixed odor of stable and almond soap.

What struck me as unusual was that the host named the hour for his guests to go home.  Therefore all the carriages were before the door at the same time.

Johan explained the mistakes on the way home.

“The man with the gray hairs and the beard” (pronounced like heard) had been watching me. Shield meant child!  A child in Danish is et barn, which sounds the same as eight barn. Two children (in Danish) are to boern, pronounced toe burn.  Bird he pronounced like beard, because it was written so.  A bird in Danish is fugle (fool).

Do you wonder that I was somewhat bewildered?

January, 1878.

Dear Mother,—­After Christmas Johan and I went to Copenhagen, where I was presented to the King and the Queen.  I was first received by the Grande Maitresse, Madame de Raben, and three dames d’honneur, who were all pleasant but ceremonious.  When the Queen entered the room and I was presented to her she was most gracious and affable.  She motioned me to sit down beside her on the sofa.  She said that she had heard much about me.  She spoke of my father-in-law, whom she loved, and Johan, whom she liked so much.  She was most interested to hear about you and the children.  She had heard that Nina promised to be a beauty.

“If children would only grow up to their promises!” I said.

“Mine have,” said the Queen; “they are all beautiful.”

She showed me the photographs of the Princess of Wales and the Grand-Duchess Dagmar of Russia.  If they resemble their pictures they must indeed be beautiful.

The salon in which we sat was filled with drawings, pastels, and photographs, and was so crowded with furniture that one could hardly move about.

“I’ve been told,” the Queen said, “that you have a splendid voice and sing wonderfully.  You must come some day and sing for me; I love music.”  Then we talked music, the most delightful of subjects.  The King came in.  He was also perfectly charming, and as kind as possible.  He is about sixty years old, but looks younger, having a wonderfully youthful figure and a very handsome face.  The King preferred to speak French, but the Queen liked better to talk English, which she does to perfection.