"La! what are you crying for, child? Poor girl! What are you crying for? Dick, the scamp? He is not worthy of such pure tears; and yet, believe me, he loves you to distraction." "I thought he had gone--gone, without a word." "Faith, you are not complimentary! I flatter myself that our Dick is a gentleman. I do, indeed. And, as he is yet perfectly in his senses, you might have trusted him." "And you, do you go to Boston to-morrow?" "The colonel does. At present, I have no such intentions. But I had to have some extraordinary excuse, and I could invent no other. However, you may say anything, if you only say it with an assurance. Madam wished me a pleasant journey. I felt a little sorry to deceive so fine a lady." "When will Richard return?" "Indeed, I think you will have to answer for his resolves. But he will speak for himself; and, in faith, I told him that he had come to a point where I would be no longer responsible for his actions. I am thankful to own that I have some conscience left." The ride was not a very pleasant one. Katherine could not help feeling that Mrs. Gordon was _distrait_ and inconsistent; and, towards its close, she became very silent. Yet she kissed her kindly, and drawing her closely for a last word, said, "Do not forget to wear your wadded cloak and hood. You may have to take the water; for the councillor is very suspicious, let me tell you. Remember what I say,--the wadded cloak and hood; and good-by, good-by, my dear." "Shall I see you soon?" "When we may meet again, I do not pretend to say; till then, I am entirely yours; and so again good-by." The ride had not occupied an hour; but, when Katherine got home, Lysbet was making tea. "A cup will be good for you, _mijn kind_." And she smiled tenderly in the face that had been so white in its woeful anguish, but on which there was now the gleam of hope. And she perceived that Katherine had received some message, she even divined that there might be some appointment to keep; and she determined not to be too wise and prudent, but to trust Katherine for this evening with her own destiny. That night there was a meeting at the Town Hall, and Joris left the house soon after his tea. He was greatly touched by Katharine's effort to appear cheerful; and when she followed him to the door, and, ere he opened it, put her arms round his neck, and kissed him, murmuring, "My father, _mijn vader_!" he could not restrain his tears. "_Mijn kind, my liefste kind_!" he answered. And then his soul in its great emotion turned affectionately to the supreme fatherhood; for he whispered to himself, as he walked slowly and solemnly in the pleasant evening light: "'_Gelijk sich een vader outfermt over de kinderen_!' Oh, so great must be Thy pity! My own heart can tell that now."