es; then, as
if her mind was made up to confide in our honesty, she disburthened it of
its secrets.

"It would be wrong to tell you a part of my story, without telling you
all," she began; "for you might think Van Tassel and his set are alone to
blame, while my conscience tells me that little has happened that is not a
just punishment for my great sin. You'll have patience, therefore, with an
old woman, and hear her whole tale; for mine is not a time of life to
mislead any. The days of white-heads are numbered; and, was it not for
Kitty, the blow would not be quite so hard on me. You must know, we are
Dutch by origin--come of the ancient Hollanders of the colony--and were
Van Duzers by name. It's like, friends," added the good woman, hesitating,
"that you are Yankees by birth?"

"I cannot say I am," I answered, "though of English extraction. My family
is long of New York, but it does not mount back quite as far as the time
of the Hollanders."

"And your friend? He is silent; perhaps he is of New England? I would not
wish to hurt his feelings, for my story will bear a little hard, perhaps,
on his love of home."

"Never mind me, mother, but rowse it all up like entered cargo," said
Marble, in his usual bitter way when alluding to his own birth. "There's
not the man breathing that one can speak more freely before on such
matters, than Moses Marble."

"Marble!--that's a _hard_ name," returned the woman slightly smiling; "but
a _name_ is not a _heart_. My parents were Dutch; and you may have heard
how it was before the Revolution, between the Dutch and the Yankees. Near
neighbours, they did not love each other. The Yankees said the Dutch were
fools, and the Dutch said the Yankees were knaves. Now, as you may easily
suppose, I was born before the Revolution, when King George II. was on the
throne and ruled the country; and though it was long after the English got
to be our masters, it was before our people had forgotten their language
and their traditions. My father himself was born after the English
governors came among us, as I've heard him say; but it mattered not--he
loved Holland to the last, and the customs of his fathers."

"All quite right, mother," said Marble, a little impatiently; "but what of
all that? It's as nat'ral for a Dutchman to love Holland, as it is for an
Englishman to love Hollands. I've been in the Low Countries, and must say
it's a muskrat sort of a life the people lead; neither afloat nor ashor