It was a very happy home which was covered by the many-cornered red-tiled roof of the little parsonage. I think old Madame Van Alstine, Garrett's step-mother, had no fears for us after a pair of storks settled themselves on one of our chimneys. It is the storks in Holland which bring all the babies, but they never brought us any. It was a grief at the time, but we came to see that all was ordered aright, and the want was made up to us afterward. I had the more time to give to the school and the work of the church. After a time, Katherine spared to me one of her daughters who was and hath ever been a great comfort to us. The year after my marriage, my Aunt Joyce died, at the age of ninety-eight. She was well and able to wait upon herself to the very last day of her life. Avice had a fine little maid by that time, and my aunt was at the christening and gave the babe her own name. The next morning, when Avice went to call her as usual, she was no longer there. She had evidently passed away in her sleep. It was a happy death, but we missed her sorely. Of all women I ever saw, she had the most excellently even temper and discretion. As the saying is, one always knew where to have her. This was the only important change which took place in our family for five years. I had come to look upon Holland as home, and my English life was almost like a dream. We heard of things going from bad to worse, of the king's uncertain temper and continual change of policy, of Protestants and Papists alike being hanged and burned for their religion. Nor were we wholly without fears for ourselves. There were ominous growlings of subterranean thunder, rumors of the establishment of the Holy Office in Holland, of new imposts and severe laws against sectaries; but as yet the storm which is now raging over that brave and unhappy people did but mutter in the distance. Walter and my uncle used to talk about England by the hour, but for myself, I must say, I was never homesick, save when I thought of certain sparkling springs and the like. I would have loved to see a babbling brook once more. We had just kept our Christmas holidays, with the usual interchange of gifts and distribution of spiced and gilded cakes. I remember I was putting away a famous one, mounted on a fine china dish, which Wilhelmina Bogardus had sent me for a present. We had begun to get china dishes then, but they were a great rarity, and right pleased I was with my New Year's gift. All at once the door was opened, and in came my husband, my uncle and Garrett Van Alstine, all talking together, and so full of their tidings that they actually forgot to wipe their feet, and brought more mud into my parlor than Garrett would ever have dared to take into his own house, that I know. "News, my love! Great news!" said Walter. "King Henry is dead. And Prince Edward now is king. Now may we return in peace to our home in dear old Devon, and dwell once more among our own people."