to confide your sorrows
to me?"

"I have no sorrows, madam, but of my own making. I am kinder treated
than I deserve; especially in this house."

"Then why not come oftener, my dear?"

"I come oftener than I deserve;" and she sighed deeply.

"There, Reicht is bawling for you," said Margaret Van Eyck; "go,
child!--what on earth can it be?"

Turning possibilities over in her mind, she thought Margaret must be
mortified at the contempt with which she was treated by Gerard's family.
"I will take them to task for it, at least such of them as are women;"
and the very next day she put on her hood and cloak and followed by
Reicht, went to the hosier's house. Catherine received her with much
respect, and thanked her with tears for her kindness to Gerard. But
when, encouraged by this, her visitor diverged to Margaret Brandt,
Catherine's eyes dried, and her lips turned to half the size, and she
looked as only obstinate, ignorant women can look. When they put on
this cast of features, you might as well attempt to soften or convince a
brick wall. Margaret Van Eyck tried, but all in vain. So then, not being
herself used to be thwarted, she got provoked, and at last went out
hastily with an abrupt and mutilated curtsey, which Catherine, returned
with an air rather of defiance than obeisance. Outside the door Margaret
Van Eyck found Reicht conversing with a pale girl on crutches. Margaret
Van Eyck was pushing by them with heightened colour, and a scornful
toss intended for the whole family, when suddenly a little delicate hand
glided timidly into hers, and looking round she saw two dove-like eyes,
with the water in them, that sought hers gratefully and at the same time
imploringly. The old lady read this wonderful look, complex as it was,
and down went her choler. She stopped and kissed Kate's brow. "I see,"
said she. "Mind, then, I leave it to you." Returned home, she said--"I
have been to a house to-day, where I have seen a very common thing and
a very uncommon thing; I have seen a stupid, obstinate woman, and I have
seen an angel in the flesh, with a face-if I had it here I'd take down
my brushes once more and try and paint it."

Little Kate did not belie the good opinion so hastily formed of her. She
waited a better opportunity, and told her mother what she had learned
from Reicht Heynes, that Margaret had shed her very blood for Gerard in
the wood.

"See, mother, how she loves him."

"Who would not love him?"

"Oh, mo