When it was over, Joanna and Batavius went out to walk, and Madame Van
Heemskirk rose to put away her silver and china. "So warm as it is!"
said Katherine. "Into the garden I am going, mother."
"Well, then, there are currants to pull. The dish take with you."
Joris rose then, and laying his hand on Katherine's shoulder said,
"There is something to talk about. Sit down, Lysbet; the door shut
close, and listen to me."
It was impossible to mistake the stern purpose on her husband's face,
and Lysbet silently obeyed the order.
"Katherine, Katrijntje, mijn kind, this afternoon there comes to the
store the young man, Captain Hyde. To thy father he said many ill words.
To him thou shalt never speak again. Thy promise give to me."
She sat silent, with dropped eyes, and cheeks as red as the pomegranate
flower at her breast.
"Mijn kind, speak to me."
"O wee, O wee!"
"Mijn kind, speak to me."
Weeping bitterly, she rose and went to her mother, and laid her head
upon Lysbet's shoulder.
"Look now, Joris. One must know the 'why' and the 'wherefore.' What mean
you? Whish, mijn kindje!"
"This I mean, Lysbet. No more meetings with the Englishman will I have.
No love secrets will I bear. Danger is with them; yes, and sin too."
"Joris, if he has spoken to you, then where is the secret?"
"Too late he spoke. When worked was his own selfish way, to tell me of
his triumph he comes. It is a shameful wrong. Forgive it? No, I will
not,--never!"
No one answered him; only Katherine's low weeping broke the silence,
and for a few moments Joris paced the room sorrowful and amazed. Then he
looked at Lysbet, and she rose and gave her place to him. He put his
arms around his darling, and kissed her fondly.
"Mijn kindje, listen to me thy father. It is for thy happy life here,
it is for thy eternal life, I speak to thee. This man for whom thou art
now weeping is not good for thee. He is not of thy faith, he is a
Lutheran; not of thy people, he is an Englishman; not of thy station, he
talks of his nobility; a gambler also, a man of fashion, of loose talk,
of principles still more loose. If with the hawk a singing-bird might
mate happily, then this English soldier thou might safely marry. Mijn
beste kindje, do I love thee?"