great copper pans, bright and shining as new gold, and furniture
all scrubbed to the whiteness of snow.

In an arm-chair before the opened stove sat the rescued girl--a slight,
golden-haired thing, with wistful blue eyes and a frightened air. Every
moment she caught her breath in a half-hysterical sob, while violent
shivers shook her from head to foot.

The professor went and looked at her over his spectacles, as if she had
been some curious specimen of his favourite study; but at the same time
he kept at a respectful distance from her.

"Give her some soup and wine," he said, at length, putting his hands
under the tails of his long dressing-gown of flowered cashmere. "Some
soup and wine--hot; and put her to bed."

"Is she then to remain for the night?" Koosje asked, a little surprised.

"Oh, don't send me away!" the golden-haired girl broke out, in a voice
that was positively a wail, and clasping a pair of pretty, slender hands
in piteous supplication.

"Where do you come from?" the old gentleman asked, much as if he
expected she might suddenly jump up and bite him.

"From Beijerland, mynheer," she answered, with a sob.

"So! Koosje, she is remarkably well dressed, is she not?" the professor
said, glancing at the costly lace head-gear, the heavy gold head-piece,
which lay on the table together with the great gold spiral ornaments and
filigree pendants--a dazzling head of richness. He looked, too, at the
girl's white hands, at the rich, crape-laden gown, at their delicate
beauty, and shower of waving golden hair, which, released from the
confinement of the cap and head-piece, floated in a rich mass of
glittering beauty over the pillows which his servant had placed beneath
her head.

The professor was old; the professor was wholly given up to his
profession, which he jokingly called his sweetheart; and, though he
cut half of his acquaintances in the street through inattention and
the shortness of his sight, he had eyes in his head, and upon occasions
could use them. He therefore repeated the question.

"Very well dressed indeed, professor," returned Koosje, promptly.

"And what are you doing in Utrecht--in such a plight as this, too?" he
asked, still keeping at a safe distance.

"O mynheer, I am all alone in the world," she answered, her blue misty
eyes filled with tears. "I had a month ago a dear, good, kind father,
but he has died, and I am indeed desolate. I always believed him rich,
and to these things