“No, mother, you mustn’t do that, it looks quite too pretty.”

Maria smiled, passed her hand over the boy’s curls, took two cakes from a dish, gave them to him, and said: 

“One for you, the other for Bessie; our flowers shall stay.”

Adrian hurried off with the sweet gifts, but Maria glanced over the table once more, saying: 

“Peter never wants anything but what is absolutely necessary; yet that surely isn’t all, or God would have made all the birds with grey feathers.”

After helping Barbara in the kitchen, she went to her own room.  There she arranged her hair, put a fresh, beautifully-starched ruff around her neck and carefully-plaited lace in the open bosom of her dress, but wore her every-day gown, for her husband did not wish to give the assembly at his house a festal aspect.

Just as she had put the last gold pin in her hair, and was considering whether the place of honor at the table belonged to Herr Van Bronkhorst, as representative of the Prince, or to the older Herr yon Nordwyk, Trautchen knocked at the door and informed her, that Doctor Bontius wished to see the burgomaster on urgent business.  The maid-servant had told the physician that her master had ridden out, but he would not be put off, and asked permission to see her mistress.

Maria instantly went to Peter’s room.  The doctor seemed to be in haste.  His only greeting was to point with the gold head of his long staff towards the peaked black hat, that never left his head, even beside the sickbed, and asked in a curt, hurried tone: 

“When will Meister Peter come home?”

“In an hour,” replied Maria.  “Sit down, Doctor.”

“Another time.  It will keep me too long to wait for your husband.  After all, you can come with me even without his consent.”

“Certainly; but we are expecting visitors.”

“Yes.  If I find time, I shall come too.  The gentlemen can do without me, but you are necessary to the sick person to whom I wish to take you.”

“I have no idea of whom you are speaking.”

“Haven’t you?  Then once more, it is of some one who is suffering, and that will be enough for you at first.”

“And you think I could—­”

“You can do far more than you know.  Barbara is attending to affairs in the kitchen, and now I tell you again:  You must help a sufferer.”

“But, Doctor—­”

“I must beg you to hurry, for my time is limited.  Do you wish to make yourself useful; yes or no?” The door of the dining-room had remained open.  Maria again glanced at the table, and all the pleasures she had anticipated this evening passed through her mind.  But as the doctor was preparing to go, she stopped him, saying: 

“I will come.”

The manners of this blunt, but unselfish and clever man were familiar to Maria who, without waiting for a reply, brought her shawl, and led the way downstairs.  As they passed by the kitchen, Bontius called to Barbara: