“I will tell you, good sir, how it has gone on. You should know that when the old Meulinck died, he divided his property amongst his children. Rosa, whom nothing in the world could induce to marry—I need not tell you the reason—gave her share wholly up to her brother; and only asked, in return, to live with him during her life-time. At the same time, she employed herself in making ornamental articles, and by this means acquired a great deal of money. There was no need to leave this to her brother, and she employed all her gains in doing good. She attended the sick, and paid for a doctor when it was necessary. She had always a pleasant word to encourage the suffering, and some delicacy to offer the sickly. We had scarcely been married six months, when my husband came home one day dreadfully ill of inflammation on the lungs: the cough which you now hear is the consequence of it. We have to thank our merciful God and the good Rosa, that our poor Nelis is not now lying in the church-yard. If you could have but seen, dear sir, what she wholly and solely out of love did for us! She brought us additional bed-clothes; for it was cold, and we were wretchedly poor. She sent for two physicians from the next parish, and had them to consult with the doctor here on my husband’s condition. She watched by him; alleviated his sufferings and my trouble by her affectionate conversation, and she paid all that was necessary for food and medicine; for Rosa was esteemed by everybody, and when she requested the ladies of the estate, or the peasantry, to assist the poor, she was never refused. Six whole weeks was our Nelis confined to his bed, and Rosa protected and assisted us, till he—by degrees—could resume his work again.” “How I long to see the poor blind one!” sighed the traveler. The husband raised his head from his work: tears glanced in his eyes, and he said with emotion— “If my blood could give her her sight again, I would freely spend the last drop of it.” This exclamation powerfully affected Jan Slaets: the wife observed it, and with her hand gave a sign to her husband to be silent. She then continued— “Three months after, God gave us a child—the same that sits upon your knee. Rosa, who bore it to the font, desired that it might be christened Johan, but Peter, my husband’s brother, who was godfather—a good man, but somewhat self-willed—insisted that it should be called Peter, after him. After a long discussion, the boy received the name of Johan Peter. We call him Peterken, after his godfather—who still insists on its being so, and who would be angry if it were otherwise; but Rosa will not hear him called so: she calls him constantly Janneken. The boy is proud of it, and knows that she calls him Jannekin because it is your name, good sir.” The traveler pressed the boy with transport to his breast, and kissed him passionately. With silent admiration he gazed into the boy’s friendly eyes, and his heart was deeply moved. The wife went on—