Her letter, full of love, starred all through with pet words, and wisely reminding him more of their own past happiness than enlarging on her present joy, made his heart melt.  He could do no business that day.  He felt that he must go home and tell Lysbet:  only the mother could fully understand and share his joy.  He found her cleaning the “Guilderland cup”—­the very cup Mrs. Gordon had found Katherine cleaning when she brought the first love message, and took back that fateful token, her bow of orange ribbon.  At that moment Lysbet’s thoughts were entirely with Katherine.  She was wondering whether Joris and herself might not some day cross the ocean to see their child.  When she heard her husband’s step at that early hour, she put down the cup in fear, and stood watching the door for his approach.  The first glimpse of his face told her that he was no messenger of sorrow.  He gave her the letter with a smile, and then walked up and down while she read it.

“Well, Joris, a beautiful letter this is.  And thou has a grandson of thy own name—­a little Joris.  Oh, how I long to see him!  I hope that he will grow like thee—­so big and handsome as thou art, and also with thy good heart.  Oh, the little Joris!  Would God he was here!”

The face of Joris was happy, and his eyes shining; but he had not yet much to say.  He walked about for an hour, and listened to Lysbet, who, as she polished her silver, retold him all that Katherine had said of her husband’s love, and of his goodness to her.  With great attention he listened to her description of the renovated house and garden, and of Hyde’s purposes with regard to the estate.  Then he sat down and smoked his pipe, and after dinner he returned to his pipe and his meditation.  Lysbet wondered what he was considering, and hoped that it might be a letter of full forgiveness for her beloved Katherine.

At last he rose and went into the garden; and she watched him wander from bed to bed, and stand looking down at the green shoots of the early flowers, and the lovely inverted urns of the brave snowdrops.  To the river and back again several times he walked; but about three o’clock he came into the house with a firm, quick step, and, not finding Lysbet in the sitting-room, called her cheerily.  She was in their room upstairs, and he went to her.

“Lysbet, thinking I have been—­thinking of Katherine’s marriage.  Better than I expected, it has turned out.”

“I think that Katherine has made a good marriage—­the best marriage of all the children.”

[Illustration:  “Thou has a grandson of thy own name”]

“Dost thou believe that her husband is so kind and so prudent as she says?”

“No doubt of it I have.”

“See, then:  I will send to Katherine her portion.  Cohen will give me the order on Secor’s Bank in Threadneedle Street.  It is for her and her children.  Can I trust them with it?”

“Katherine is no waster, and full of nobleness is her husband.  Write thou to him, and put it in his charge for Katherine and her children.  And tell him in his honour thou trust entirely; and I think that he will do in all things right.  Nothing has he asked of thee.”