nd father laughs, for he does
that as easily as he cries. And then the old people go back into
their shop.

In the meantime Downie, the little silken flower, is in very good
spirits as she drives along the road. A little afraid of her
betrothed, perhaps; but in her heart Downie is a little afraid of
everybody, and that is a great help to her, for on account of it
every one tries to show her that they are not dangerous.

Never has she had such respect for Maurits as to-day. Now that they
have left the back street, and all her friends are behind them, it
seems to her that Maurits really grows to something big. His hat
and collar and whiskers stiffen, and the bow of his necktie swells.
His voice grows thick in his throat, and he speaks with difficulty.
She feels a little depressed by it, but it is splendid to see
Maurits so impressive.

Maurits is so clever; he has so much advice to give!--it is hard to
believe--but Maurits talks only sense the whole way. But that is
just like Maurits. He asks her if she understands clearly what this
journey means to him. Does she think it is only a pleasure trip
along the country road? Thirty miles in a good chaise with her
betrothed by her side did seem quite like a pleasure trip, and a
beautiful place to drive to, a rich uncle to visit--perhaps she
has thought that it was only for amusement?

Fancy if he knew that she had prepared herself for this journey by
a long conference with her mother before they went to bed; and by a
long succession of anxious dreams through the night, and with
prayers, and with tears! But she pretends to be stupid, in order to
get more enjoyment out of Maurits's wisdom. He likes to show it,
and she is glad to let him.

"The real trouble is that you are so sweet," says Maurits; for that
was how he had come to care for her, and it was really very stupid
of him. His father was not at all in favor of it. And his mother!
He hardly dared to think of what a fuss she had made when Maurits
had informed her that he had engaged himself to a poor girl from a
back street--a girl who had no education, no accomplishments, and
who was not even pretty; only sweet.

In Maurits's eyes, of course, the daughter of a baker was just as
good as the son of a burgomaster, but every one did not have such
liberal views as he. If Maurits had not had his rich uncle, it
could never have come to anything; for he was only a student, and
had nothing to marry on. But if they now could w