She was no craven, and she faced the position in all its cruel bearings.  She asked herself if, even for the sake of her little Joris, she would remain a wife on sufferance, or by the tie of rights which she would have to legally enforce; and then she lifted the candle, and passed softly into his room to look at him.  Though physically like the large, fair, handsome Van Heemskirks, little Joris had certain tricks of expression, certain movements and attitudes, which were the very reflection of his father’s,—­the same smile, the same droop of the hair on the forehead, the same careless toss of the arm upward in sleep.  It was the father in the son that answered her at that hour.  She slipped down upon her knees by the sleeping boy, and out of the terror and sorrow of her soul spoke to the Fatherhood in heaven.  Nay, but she knelt speechless and motionless, and waited until He spoke to her; spoke to her by the sweet, trustful little lips whose lightest touch was dear to her.  For the boy suddenly awoke; he flung his arms around her neck, he laid his face close to hers, and said,—­

“Oh, mother, beautiful mother, I thought my father was here!”

“You have been dreaming, darling Joris.”

“Yes; I am sorry I have been dreaming.  I thought my father was here—­my good father, that loves us so much.”

Then, with a happy face, Katherine rose and gave the child cool water, and turned his hot pillow, and with kisses sent him smiling into dreamland again.  In those few tender moments all her fears slipped away from her heart.  “I will not believe what a bad man says against my husband—­against my dear one who is not here to defend himself.  Lies, lies!  I will make the denial for him.”

And she kept within the comfort of this spirit, even though Hyde’s usual letter was three days behind its usual time.  Certainly they were hard days.  She kept busy; but she could not swallow a mouthful of food, and the sickness and despair that crouched at the threshold of her life made her lightest duties so heavy that it required a constant effort and a constant watchfulness to fulfil them.  And yet she kept saying to herself, “All is right.  I shall hear in a day or two.  There is some change in the service.  There is no change in Richard—­none.”

On the fourth day her trust had its reward.  She found then that the delay had been caused by the necessary charge and care of ceremonies which Lady Capel’s death forced upon her husband.  She had almost a sentiment of gratitude to her, although she was yet ignorant of her bequest of eight thousand pounds.  For Hyde had resolved to wait until the reading of the will made it certain, and then to resign his commission, and carry the double good news to Katherine himself.  Henceforward, they were to be together.  He would buy more land, and improve his estate, and live happily, away from the turmoil of the town, and the disagreeable duties of active service in a detestable quarrel.  So this purpose, though unexpressed, gave a joyous ring to his letter; it was lover-like in its fondness and hopefulness, and Katherine thought of Lady Suffolk and her emissary with a contemptuous indifference.