He did the wisest thing possible:  he went home to his wife.  She heard him ride with clattering haste into the stone court, and soon after enter the house from the back, banging every door after him.  She knew then that something had angered him—­that he was in that temper which makes a woman cry, but which a man can only relieve by noisy or emphatic movement of some kind.  A resolute look came into her face and she said to herself, “John has always had his own way—­and my way also; but Cornelia’s way—­the child must surely have something to say about that.”

“Where is Cornelia, Ava?” He asked the question with a quick glance round the room, as if he expected to find her present.

“Cornelia is not at home to-day.”

“Is she ever at home now?”

“You know that Arenta’s wedding—­”

“Arenta’s wedding!  I am tired to death of it:  I have heard nothing this morning but Arenta’s wedding.  Why the deuce! should my house be turned upside down and inside out for Arenta’s wedding?  Women have been married before Arenta Van Ariens, and women will be married after her.  What is all this fuss about?”

“You know—­”

“Bless my soul! of course I know.  I know one thing at least, that I have just met Cornelia and that young fop George Hyde coming up the street together, as if they two alone were in the world.  They never saw me, they could see nothing but themselves.”

“Men and women have done such a thing before, John, and they will do it again.  Cornelia is a beautiful girl; it is natural that she should have a lover.”

“It is very unnatural that she should choose for her lover the son of my worst enemy.”

“I am sure you wrong General Hyde.  When was he your enemy?  How could he be your enemy?”

“When was he my enemy?  Ever since the first hour we met.  Often he tried to injure me with General Washington; often he accused me of showing partiality to certain officers in the army; only last year he prevented my election to the Senate by using all his influence in favour of Joris Van Heemskirk.  If he has not done me more injury and more injustice, ’tis because he has not had the opportunity.  And you want me to give Cornelia to his son!  Yes, you do, Ava!  I see it on your face.  You stretch my patience too far.  Can I not see—­”

“Can an angry man ever see?  No, he cannot.  You feed your own suspicions, John.  You might just as well link Cornelia’s name with Rem Van Ariens as with Joris Hyde.  She is continually in Rem’s company.  He is devoted to her.  She cannot possibly misunderstand his looks and words, she must perceive that he is her ardent lover.  You might have seen them the last three evenings sitting together at that table preparing the invitations for the wedding breakfast and ball; arranging the cards and favours.—­So happy!  So pleasantly familiar!  So confidential!  I think Rem Van Ariens has as much of Cornelia’s liking as George Hyde; and perhaps neither of them have enough of it to win her hand.  All lovers do not grow to husbands.”