On the night of De Vries’ return, there was a great gathering at Van Heemskirk’s house.  No formal invitations were given, but all the friends of the family understood that it would be so.  Joris kept on his coat and ruffles and fine cravat, Batavius wore his blue broadcloth and gilt buttons, and Lysbet and her daughters were in their kirk dresses of silk and camblet.  It was an exquisite summer evening, and the windows looking into the garden were all open; so also was the door; and long before sunset the stoop was full of neighbourly men, smoking with Joris and Batavius, and discussing Colonial and commercial affairs.

In the living-room and the best parlour their wives were gathered,—­women with finely rounded forms, very handsomely clothed, and all busily employed in the discussion of subjects of the greatest interest to them.  For Joanna’s marriage was now to be freely talked over,—­the house Batavius was going to build described, the linen and clothing she had prepared examined, and the numerous and rich presents her lover had brought her wondered over, and commented upon.

Conspicuous in the happy chattering company, Lysbet Van Heemskirk bustled about, in the very whitest and stiffest of lace caps; making a suggestion, giving an opinion, scolding a careless servant, putting out upon the sideboard Hollands, Geneva, and other strong waters, and ordering in from the kitchen hot chocolate and cakes of all kinds for the women of the company.  Very soon after sundown, Elder Semple and madam his wife arrived; and the elder, as usual, made a decided stir among the group which he joined.

“No, no, Councillor,” he said, in answer to the invitation of Joris to come outside.  “No, no, I’ll not risk my health, maybe my vera life, oot on the stoop after sunset.  ‘Warm,’ do you say?  Vera warm, and all the waur for being warm.  My medical man thinks I hae a tendency to fever, and there’s four-fourths o’ fever in every inch o’ river mist that a man breathes these warm nights.”

“Well, then, neighbours, we’ll go inside,” said Joris.  “Clean pipes, and a snowball, or a glass of Holland, will not, I think, be amiss.”

The movement was made among some jokes and laughter; and they gathered near the hearthstone, where, in front of the unlit hickory logs, stood a tall blue jar filled with feathery branches of fennel and asparagus.  But, as the jar of Virginia was passed round, Lysbet looked at Dinorah, and Dinorah went to the door and called, “Baltus;” and in a minute or two a little black boy entered with some hot coals on a brass chafing-dish, and the fire was as solemnly and silently passed round as if it were some occult religious ceremony.

The conversation interrupted by Semples entrance was not resumed.

[Illustration:  A little black boy entered]

It had been one dealing out unsparing and scornful disapproval of Governor Clinton’s financial methods, and Clinton was known to be a personal friend of Semple’s.  But the elder would perhaps hardly have appreciated the consideration, if he had divined it; for he dearly loved an argument, and had no objections to fight for his own side single-handed.  In fact, it was so natural for him to be “in opposition,” that he could not bear to join the general congratulation to De Vries on his fortunate voyage.