A chill fell on him. He stopped and looked at them: they stood grim and silent. He stammered out some words of inquiry. “Why ask?” said the father; “you know why we are here.” “Oh, Gerard!” said his mother, with a voice full of reproach yet of affection. Gerard's heart quaked: he was silent. Then his father pitied his confusion, and said to him: “Nay, you need not to hang your head. You are not the first young fool that has been caught by a red cheek and a pair of blue eyes.” “Nay, nay!” put in Catherine, “it was witchcraft; Peter the Magician is well known for that.” “Come, Sir Priest,” resumed his father, “you know you must not meddle with women folk. But give us your promise to go no more to Sevenbergen, and here all ends: we won't be hard on you for one fault.” “I cannot promise that, father.” “Not promise it, you young hypocrite!” “Nay, father, miscall me not: I lacked courage to tell you what I knew would vex you; and right grateful am I to that good friend, whoever he be, that has let you wot. 'Tis a load off my mind. Yes, father, I love Margaret; and call me not a priest, for a priest I will never be. I will die sooner.” “That we shall see, young man. Come, gainsay me no more; you will learn what 'tis to disrespect a father.” Gerard held his peace, and the three walked home in gloomy silence, broken only by a deep sigh or two from Catherine. From that hour the little house at Tergou was no longer the abode of peace. Gerard was taken to task next day before the whole family; and every voice was loud against him, except little Kate's and the dwarf's, who was apt to take his cue from her without knowing why. As for Cornelis and Sybrandt, they were bitterer than their father. Gerard was dismayed at finding so many enemies, and looked wistfully into his little sister's face: her eyes were brimming at the harsh words showered on one who but yesterday was the universal pet. But she gave him no encouragement: she turned her head away from him and said: “Dear, dear Gerard, pray to Heaven to cure you of this folly!” “What, are you against me too?” said Gerard, sadly; and he rose with a deep sigh, and left the house and went to Sevenbergen. The beginning of a quarrel, where the parties are bound by affection though opposed in interest and sentiment, is comparatively innocent: both are perhaps in the right at first starting, and then it is that a calm, judicious friend, capable of seeing both sides, is a gift from Heaven. For the longer the dissension endures, the wider and deeper it grows by the fallibility and irascibility of human nature: these are not confined to either side, and finally the invariable end is reached--both in the wrong.