ind her. For the manner
on't, 'twas like the rest. Ah, such as she saw never thirty, nor ever
shall while earth shall last. She smiled in pain too. A well, then, thus
'twas: she was took wi' a languor and a loss of all her pains."

"A loss of her pains? I understand you not."

"Ay, you are not experienced; indeed, e'en thy mother almost blinded
herself and said, ''Tis maybe a change for the better.' But Joan Ketel,
which is an understanding woman, she looked at her and said, 'Down sun,
down wind!' And the gossips sided and said, 'Be brave, you that are her
mother, for she is half way to the saints.' And thy mother wept sore,
but Kate would not let her; and one very ancient woman, she said to thy
mother, 'She will die as easy as she lived hard.' And she lay painless
best part of three days, a sipping of heaven afore-hand, And, my dear,
when she was just parting, she asked for 'Gerard's little boy,' and
I brought him and set him on the bed, and the little thing behaved as
peaceably as he does now. But by this time she was past speaking; but
she pointed to a drawer, and her mother knew what to look for: it was
two gold angels thou hadst given her years ago. Poor soul! she had kept
then, till thou shouldst come home. And she nodded towards the little
boy, and looked anxious; but we understood her, and put the pieces in
his two hands, and when his little fingers closed on them, she smiled
content. And so she gave her little earthly treasures to her favourite's
child--for you were her favourite--and her immortal jewel to God,
and passed so sweetly we none of us knew justly when she left us.
Well-a-day, well-a-day!"

Gerard wept.

"She hath not left her like on earth," he sobbed. "Oh, how the
affections of earth curl softly round my heart! I cannot help it; God
made them after all. Speak on, sweet Margaret at thy voice the past
rolls its tides back upon me; the loves and the hopes of youth come fair
and gliding into my dark cell, and darker bosom, on waves of memory and
music."

"Gerard, I am loth to grieve you, but Kate cried a little when she first
took ill at you not being there to close her eyes."

Gerard sighed.

"You were within a league, but hid your face from her."

He groaned.

"There, forgive me for nagging; I am but a woman; you would not have
been so cruel to your own flesh and blood knowingly, would you?"

"Oh, no."

"Well, then, know that thy brother Sybrandt lies in my charge with a
broken back, f