llent, and he is himself a
very interesting man!"

"No doubt of it!" answered Otto.

"You will remain and dine with us?" said the lady of the house, who now
entered.

Otto did not feel well.

"These are only whims," said Sophie.

The ladies made merry, and Otto remained. Cousin Joachim came and was
interesting--very interesting, said all. He related of Paris, spoke also
of Copenhagen, and drew comparisons. The quietness of home had made an
especial impression on him.

"People here," said he, "go about as if they bore some heavy grief, or
some joy, which they might not express. If one goes into a coffee-house,
it is just as if one entered a house of mourning. Each one seats
himself, a newspaper in his hand, in a corner. That strikes one when one
comes from Paris! One naturally has the thought,--Can these few degrees
further north bring so much cold into the blood? There is the same
quiet in our theatre. Now I love this active life. The only boldness the
public permits itself is hissing a poor author; but a wretched singer,
who has neither tone nor manner, a miserable actress, will be endured,
nay, applauded by good friends--an act of compassion. She is so fearful!
she is so good! In Paris people hiss. The decoration master, the
manager, every one there receives his share of applause or blame. Even
the directors are there hissed, if they manage badly."

"You are preaching a complete revolution in our theatrical kingdom!"
said the lady of the house. "The Copenhageners cannot ever become
Parisians, and neither should they."

"The theatre is here, as well as there, the most powerful organ of the
people's life. It has the greatest influence, and ours stands high, very
high, when one reflects in what different directions it must extend its
influence. Our only theatre must accommodate itself, and represent, at
the same time, the Theatre Francais, the grand Opera, the Vaudeville,
and Saint-Martin; it must comprehend all kinds of theatrical
entertainments. The same actors who to-day appear in tragedy, must
to-morrow show themselves in a comedy or vaudeville. We have actors who
might compare themselves with the best in Paris--only _one_ is above all
ours, but, also, above all whom I have seen in Europe, and this one
is Mademoiselle Mars. You will, doubtless, consider the reason
extraordinary which gives this one, in my opinion, the first place. This
is her age, which she so completely compels you to forget. She is still