e grindstone, the sly, cruel jade. But never heed.
We will hear the letter; and then let her go unblessed as she came
unwelcome."

"Make your mind easy," said Catherine. "She will not come at all." And a
tone of regret was visible.

Shortly after Richart, who had been hourly expected, arrived from
Amsterdam grave and dignified in his burgher's robe and gold chain,
ruff, and furred cap, and was received not with affection only, but
respect; for he had risen a step higher than his parents, and such steps
were marked in mediaeval society almost as visibly as those in their
staircases.

Admitted in due course to the family council, he showed plainly, though
not discourteously, that his pride was deeply wounded by their having
deigned to treat with Margaret Brandt. "I see the temptation," said he.
"But which of us hath not at times to wish one way and do another?" This
threw a considerable chill over the old people. So little Kate put in a
word. "Vex not thyself, dear Richart. Mother says she will not come.

"All the better, sweetheart. I fear me, if she do, I shall hie me back
to Amsterdam."

Here Denys popped his head in at the door, and said--

"She will be here at three on the great dial."

They all looked at one another in silence.

(1) Anglice, a Thing-em-bob.

CHAPTER LIII

"Nay, Richart," said Catherine at last, "for Heaven's sake let not this
one sorry wench set us all by the ears: hath she not made ill blood
enough already?"

"In very deed she hath. Fear me not, good mother. Let her come and read
the letter of the poor boy she hath by devilish arts bewitched and then
let her go. Give me your words to show her no countenance beyond decent
and constrained civility: less we may not, being in our own house; and
I will say no more." On this understanding they waited the foe. She, for
her part, prepared for the interview in a spirit little less hostile.
When Denys brought word they would not come to her, but would receive
her, her lip curled, and she bade him observe how in them every feeling,
however small, was larger than the love for Gerard. "Well," said she, "I
have not that excuse; so why mimic the pretty burgher's pride, the pride
of all unlettered folk? I will go to them for Gerard's sake. Oh, how I
loathe them!"

Thus poor good-natured Denys was bringing into one house the materials
of an explosion.

Margaret made her toilet in the same spirit that a knight of her day
dressed for battle--