IN THE STATE OF DENMARK 155 



that lier aunt, the Froken M., was at home, in one 

 hospitable swing of the door. 



I have been able to gather but an indefinite account 

 of the subsequent proceedings ; they seem to have 

 involved the ecstatic recognition of my cousin by the 

 Froken M. — an ecstasy quite untempered by the 

 obvious fact that she had no smallest remembrance 

 of either her name or face — the consumption of vast 

 quantities of cigarettes and tea in which cognac took 

 the place of cream, an introduction to a Parisian 

 painter of unclean aspect, eulogised by his hostess 

 as the possessor of un fort choli dalent, and a dis- 

 cussion on Danish art, in which my cousin professes 

 to have joined fluently, even as she participated in 

 the other revelries. How that may be I know not, 

 but it struck me that she neglected some very attrac- 

 tive items of the menu at Thompsen's restaurant at 

 dinner that evening in a way that made me fear the 

 afternoon had told upon her. 



X 



Copenhagen is full of water highways and byways. 

 Walking in the early sunshine down one of the streets 

 the vista was suddenly blocked by the black bows of 

 a steamer moving across it, followed by the scarlet 

 funnels, sprayed with the salt of the Skager Rack; 

 it was like an effect in a Drury Lane melodrama. 

 We were at the moment impeded by a bottle of 

 Heering's cherry brandy, bought at Heering's shop, 

 three steps below the level of the Kongen's Ny Torv, 

 and by two wooden trays, echt Danish, and of in- 

 credible cheapness, so the German-speaking Ananias 

 at the tray-shop had told us (and we believed him 

 through much subsequent discouragement, till con- 



