mistake, the Van
Zonshovens are not rich."

"You are not mistaken, General. My grandmother and her children
had to live on the pension allowed the widow of Baron d'Hermaele,
and this pension ceased with her life."

"And did the king do nothing for the daughters?"

"What would you expect from him, uncle? The only son was promoted and
rewarded, but he died in the flower of his age. It was impossible
for the young ladies to keep William II. in constant recollection
of their father's loyalty. Besides, we decided not to petition or
supplicate for favours, preferring to rely on our own energies and
self-help. This principle was instilled into me whilst I was young."

"You surprise me. But is there not a Van Zonshoven Minister for
Foreign Affairs in the present Government?" asked the General. "He
must be a rich man, I fancy. What is your relationship to him?"

"He is my uncle; but I esteem him little. He is married to the
coffee-coloured daughter of a rich Java merchant--for her money,
of course. She is neither intelligent, amiable, nor educated; and
indeed, has got little from him in return for her money except the
right to bear his name and title."

"A pitiful mesalliance, certainly! But for you the consequences are
a rich and childless uncle?" he observed by way of a query.

"Yes, and he is already old. But, unfortunately, I am estranged from
him, for I consider it beneath my dignity to beg favours from him."

The General shook his head. "There spoke the blood of the Roselaers."

"No, General, the Van Zonshovens are not vindictive, but proud. Though
poor, I have always prized my independence above all things. I
have lived soberly, and never indulged in pleasures above my means;
consequently I have not been forced to sacrifice my liberty, which,
to tell you the truth, is dearer to me than my patent of nobility."

"Bravo! bravissimo!" resounded in my ears from the bottom of the
room; and it came from the deep, clear voice of Francis, who had been
entering the room as I spoke these words.

"You see, Jonker," said the General, somewhat fretfully, and knitting
his brows, "your style of speaking has touched my granddaughter's
weak side. Her dreams are of independence, and her illusion is to be
indebted to nobody."

"Not my illusion, grandfather. My principle is rather to be poor and
independent, and appear so; and rather to suffer privations and make
sacrifices, than be guilty of meanness for the sake of supplying