“Until it finds you,” replied Maria.  “It was wrong to speak of such things with you, it excites you, and that is bad.”

“Never mind; it will do me good to relieve my heart.  Did you love no one before your husband?”

“Love?  No, Henrica, I never really loved any one except him.”

“And your heart waited for the burgomaster, ere it beat faster?”

“No, it had not always remained quiet before; I grew up among social people, old and young, and of course liked some better than others.”

“And surely one best of all.”

“I won’t deny it.  At my sister’s wedding, my brother-in-law’s friend, a young nobleman, came from Germany and remained several weeks with us.  I liked him, and remember him kindly even now.”

“Have you never heard from him again?”

“No; who knows what has become of him.  My brother-in-law expected great things from him, and he possessed many rare gifts, but was reckless, fool-hardy, and a source of constant anxiety to his mother.”

“You must tell me more about him.”

“What is the use, Henrica?”

“I don’t want to talk any more, but I should like to be still, inhale the fragrance of the lindens, and listen, only listen.”

“No, you must go to bed now.  I’ll help you undress and, when you have been alone an hour, come back again.”

“One learns obedience in your house, but when my preserver comes home, bring him here.  He must tell me about the English riders.  There comes Fran Babetta with his decoction.  You shall see that I take it punctually.”

The boy returned home late, for he had enjoyed all the glories of the fair with the doctor’s children.  He was permitted to pay only a short visit to Henrica, and did not see his father at all, the latter having gone to a night council at Herr Van Bronkhorst’s.

The next morning the fair holidays were to end, school would begin and Adrian had intended to finish his tasks this evening; but the visit to the English riders had interfered, and he could not possibly appear before the rector without his exercise.  He frankly told Maria so, and she cleared a place for him at the table where she was sewing, and helped the young scholar with many a word and rule she had learned with her dead brother.

When it lacked only half an hour of midnight, Barbara entered, saying: 

“That’s enough now.  You can finish the rest early to-morrow morning before school.”

Without waiting for Maria’s reply, she closed the boy’s books and pushed them together.

While thus occupied, the room shook with rude blows on the door of the house.  Maria threw down her sewing and started from her seat, while Barbara exclaimed: 

“For Heaven’s sake, what is it?” Adrian rushed into his father’s room and opened the window.

The ladies had hurried after him, and before they could question the disturber of the peace, a deep voice called: