nd; or, perhaps, they
were more powerfully combated by her greater respect for the pomps and
vanities of life. She thought rather well than ill of those people of
her own race and class who had made themselves a place in the most
exclusive ranks. During the past ten years, there had been great changes
in New York's social life: many families had become very wealthy, and
there was a rapidly growing tendency to luxurious and splendid living.
Lysbet Van Heemskirk saw no reason why her younger children should not
move with this current, when it might set them among the growing
aristocracy of the New World.

[Illustration: The amber necklace]

She tried to recall Katharine's demeanour and words during the past day,
and she could find no cause for alarm in them. True, the child had spent
a long time in arranging her beautiful hair, and she had also begged
from her the bright amber necklace that had been her own girlish pride;
but what then? It was so natural, especially when there was likely to be
fine young gentlemen to see them. She could not remember having noticed
anything at all which ought to make her uneasy; and what Lysbet did not
see or hear, she could not imagine.

Yet the past ten hours had really been full of danger to the young girl.
Early in the afternoon, some hours before Joanna was ready to go,
Katherine was dressed for her visit to Semple House. It was the next
dwelling to the Van Heemskirks' on the river-bank, about a quarter of a
mile distant, but plainly in sight; and this very proximity gave the
mother a sense of security for her children. It was a different house
from the Dutchman's, one of those great square plain buildings, so
common in the Georgian era,--not at all picturesque, but finished inside
with handsomely carved wood-work, and with mirrors and wall-papering
brought specially for it from England.

It stood, like Van Heemskirk's, at the head of a garden sloping to the
river; and there was a good deal of pleasant rivalry about these
gardens, both proprietors having impressed their own individuality upon
their pleasure-grounds. Semple's had nothing of the Dutchman's glowing
prettiness and quaintness,--no clipped yews and hollies, no fanciful
flower-beds and little Gothic summer-house. Its slope was divided into
three fine terraces, the descent from one to the other being by broad,
low steps; the last flight ending on a small pier, to which the pleasure
and fishing boats were fastened. These t