John Hardy, it must be confessed, would rather have been fishing in the Gudenaa than waiting for references that would show he was to be trusted in a Danish household; but he was assured in Copenhagen that in Jutland an introduction is not only necessary, but that it should be supported by references, which when once done in a satisfactory manner, then the natural kindness of the Jutland people would be open to him. John Hardy's later experiences led him to recognize how true the advice he received in Copenhagen was in this respect. He left Copenhagen by the steamer for Aarhus, and went by rail to a small station on the railway, where the Pastor met him with a two-horse vehicle, that made the small distance of eight English miles a journey of nearly three hours. The Pastor was a man of fifty, with a fresh complexion and a kindly face, and asked many questions of John Hardy's family and friends, his position in England, his age, the income from his landed property, and his views and intentions in life. John Hardy had, however, heard he must expect this, and answered simply and frankly. When at length the little Danish parsonage was reached, with its whitewashed garden wall, with poplar trees and lilac bushes, John Hardy felt it was a relief to escape the close cross-examination to which he had been so long subjected, and to see the Pastor's two boys running out with eager curiosity to inspect the Englishman, and assist in taking his luggage to the room apportioned to him. "We shall have dinner shortly," said the Pastor. "Helga is not here to meet us, and that is a sign that we shall not wait long. Karl and Axel will show you your room and bring anything you may want, and help you to unpack your portmanteaus." John Hardy went to his room--a room with little furniture, but adapted as a sitting-room or bedroom. The two boys, with the desire that all boys have to be useful to a guest, assisted in undoing his luggage, and John Hardy was soon ready to follow them to the little dining-room of the parsonage. The table was laid with a little bunch of wild flowers and grasses here and there, but with little else. The Pastor received Hardy in a more friendly manner than he had exhibited before, and his daughter Helga appeared from a door leading from the kitchen, and was introduced by her father. John Hardy saw a tall woman of twenty, with fair hair and violet eyes, and bowed. The dinner was borne in by two women-servants, and Helga signed to John Hardy where he should sit. There was little conversation at dinner. John Hardy, for his part, was hungry, and also knew little Danish; but gradually, as the more substantial dishes disappeared, conversation arose, and John Hardy turned its direction to the fishing in the Gudenaa. "Your frank letters to me," said Hardy, "would not lead me to expect much; but there are trout in the Gudenaa, and it might be that a few might be caught."