“Mijnheer,” she said at last, quietly yet effectually breaking in upon his words; “Mijnheer, you are a very good man, Mevrouw is a virtuous woman, and Vrouw Snieder also, all of you.  I have often admired your goodness; when you were least conscious of it it preached to me, making me ashamed of my wickedness.  But now that you, in your goodness, have taken to preaching to me yourselves, I am no longer ashamed, for it is clear that your goodness dares to do a thing that no man’s wickedness would; it turns the foolish and indiscreet into sinners and sinners into devils; it makes the way of wrong-doing very easy.  You are so good,” she went on, putting aside an interruption; “perhaps you do not know wickedness when you see it; you cannot distinguish between sin and sin; you are like those who would hang a man for stealing bread as soon as for killing a child.  What!  Are you indignant, Mevrouw, at such a charge?  Are you not turning out, with no character and no chance—­a good enough imitation of hanging—­a girl who has been no more than foolish, just the same as if she had committed the greatest sin?”

Vrouw Heigen broke in angrily, and Vrouw Snieder and Denah, inexpressibly shocked; Mijnheer was also shocked, but he, and they too, were vaguely uneasy under the reproach.  Julia was satisfied; more especially as her experience of them led her to expect they would, though never persuaded they had made a mistake, yet feel more uneasy by and by.

She rose from her chair.  “Yes,” she said, “it is a shame to speak of such things, as you observe; do not let us speak of them any more.  Perhaps Mijnheer you would like to pay me, then I can go.”

Mijnheer agreed rather hastily; then, realising the suddenness of the step, he paused with his purse in his hand.  “But can you go now?” he asked.  “Nothing is arranged; you had better wait a day or two.”

“No,” Julia answered, “I think not; it would be well to get the thing over and done with; you would rather and so would I.”

No one contradicting this, Mijnheer counted the money and gave it to Julia.

“Thank you,” she said; “now I will set the table for coffee drinking.  You will stay, of course, Mevrouw,” she went on, turning to Vrouw Snieder—­“and Miss Denah, that will be two extra—­Mijnheer Joost will be in, Denah; you can tell him about it.”

Denah flushed indignantly, and Vrouw Snieder could only say “You—­You—­”

“Oh, I will not sit down with you, of course,” Julia answered sweetly; “I will take my coffee in the little room; is it not so, Mevrouw?”

Vrouw Van Heigen nodded; she did not know what else to do, and Julia went away, leaving them as awkward and at a loss for words as if they were the delinquents, not she.  Denah felt this and resented it; the elders felt it too, and for a moment or two looked at one another ill at ease.  However, in a little they recovered and began to talk over Julia and her wrong doings till they felt quite comfortable again.