"But why should you wish to change again?" asked another. "I do not understand that your benefice in England is a very wealthy one." "I would you could see it," said Walter, smiling, and then turning to me: "Tell me, sweetheart, what would Mistress Van Sittart think were she translated to one of our Devon farmhouses?" "She would think herself transported to some island of savages," said I; and I could not but laugh as I thought of Carolina Van Sittart, who was a wonder of neatness even among Dutch women, in an ordinary farmer's kitchen, or even a gentleman's dining-hall, in our old neighborhood at Peckham Hall. "Then I am sure Mistress Corbet will not wish to go," said Carolina. "You would not be so cruel as to carry her off among savages," and with that they all fell upon him at once for thinking of such cruelty. "As to that, different people have different customs," said I, in some heat, for when it came to the pinch, of course I took Walter's part; "and if the people are such savages, they have the more need of one to teach them the way of life. Here in Rotterdam every one can have at least a Testament, or if not, they can hear the Word read and preached every Sunday." "True, but how many never do?" "That is their own fault. I suppose if the apostles had waited till every one in Jerusalem was converted before they preached elsewhere, you might be offering human sacrifices to this day, Mynheer Bogardus, as they say your ancestors, the free Frisians, used to do." Walter gave me a look and smile that went to my heart, and Mynheer Bogardus muttered something in his beard about women minding their distaffs—as if I could not spin as well as Gatty any day. "Then you would not mind going," said Avice, with one of her innocent looks of wonder. "You would not mind leaving us all and going into that wild West Country among the moors and hills." A great lump came into my throat, but I swallowed it, and answered resolutely: "I do not say that I should choose it, but if my husband's duty leads him thither, 'tis clearly mine not to let him go alone. And as to the moors and hills, I am not sure but I would love to see some land not so flat that a tall man can be seen two miles off. And I am very sure I should like a drink of water from a living spring once more." A call to supper interrupted the discussion, which was doubtless as well, for I was growing warm, as one is apt to do when arguing against one's self. No more was said at that time, but when we were walking homeward, Walter asked me, saying: "Sweetheart, did you really mean all you said to-night about going back to Devon? Would you indeed go and content yourself?" "I would go, of course, if you did," I answered. "I don't pretend to say I should like it as well in all ways, but I doubt not I could content myself, and I am pretty well used to changes." "Ay, that you are, poor child," said Walter.