’Ah! seest thou not yon grassy mound
  There sleeps my mother dear. 
  Behold yon rock, above the flood;
  There fell my father down!

  ’The whirling torrent bore him on;
  He struggled long in vain;
  My brother leaped to help his sire,
  And both together sank!

  ’And now I fly our silent hut,
  Where desolation dwells,
  To mourn upon this dreary bank,
  And watch the wave and grave!’

  ‘No longer grieve,’ the stranger said,
  ’Thy heart shall ache no more;
  A father and a brother too
  To thee, poor lonely girl, I’ll be!’

  “He took her hand; he led her off;
  In garments rich he clad the maid;
  Before the altar promised love,
  And blessed her life in happy home!"[A]

[Footnote A:  This simple and popular ballad, known in the Campine as The Orphan, is sung by all classes to an air which is full of touching melody.]

As Lenora was about beginning the last verse of her song De Vlierbeck appeared on the sill of the kitchen door, and the peasants instantly rose in alarm at the freedom with which they were sitting in the presence of their young mistress, listening to her songs; but the poor gentleman at once understood the meaning of her action, and with a gesture of approval signaled them to be quiet.  As the last words died on his ear,—­“I’m glad to see you amusing yourselves,” said he; “but, now that the song is ended, I want your services in another quarter, my good woman.”

Followed by Bess, the farmer’s wife, he ascended to the dining-room, where the table-cloth was already laid and every thing in order for the reception of the dishes.  Bessy’s son was already there in livery, with a napkin over his arm; and De Vlierbeck immediately began to assign them their several tasks during the service of dinner, and to repeat and drill them in their tasks till he was perfectly satisfied with their performances.

The hour for dinner was at length near at hand.  Every thing was ready in the kitchen, and all were at their posts.  Lenora, in full dress and with a palpitating heart, lingered in her chamber; while her father, with a book which he appeared to be reading, sat beneath the catalpa in the garden.

It was about two o’clock when a splendid equipage, drawn by a pair of superb English horses, entered the demesne of Grinselhof and drew up in front of the portal.  De Vlierbeck welcomed his guests courteously, and Monsieur Denecker gave orders to the coachman to return precisely at five o’clock, as matters of importance required his presence in Antwerp before nightfall.

Denecker was a large, stout person, dressed rather extravagantly, but in a style of studied carelessness which he evidently regarded as stylish.  The expression of his face, it must be owned, was rather vulgar, and exhibited a compound of cunning and good-nature tempered by indifference.  But Gustave, his nephew, belonged to an entirely different class of persons.  His tall figure was graceful and easy, his countenance frank and manly, and his whole demeanor denoted refined manners and high cultivation.  Blue eyes and blonde hair imparted a poetic air to his head; but an energetic glance and lofty brow took from it every expression of sentimental weakness.