“Pray don’t blush so, child; though, indeed, it is vastly becoming.  I do assure you he saw you this morning.  He had gone out early to take the air, and he had a most transporting piece of good fortune:  for he bethought himself to walk under the great trees nearly opposite your house; and when you came to the door, with your excellent father, he noted all, from the ribbon on your head to the buckles on your shoes.  His talk now is of nothing but your short quilted petticoat, and your tight bodice, and beautiful bare arms.  Is that the Dutch style, then, child?  It must be extremely charming.”

“If my mother you could see in it!  She is beautiful.  And we have a picture of my grandmother in the true Zealand dress.  Like a princess she looks, my father says; but, indeed, I have never seen a princess.”

“My dear, you must allow me to laugh a little.  Will you believe it, princesses are sometimes very vulgar creatures?  I am sure, however, that your grandmother was very genteel and agreeable.  I must tell you that I have just received my new scarf from London.  You shall see it, and give me your opinion.”

“O madam, you are very kind!  What is it like?”

“It is all extravagance in mode and fancy.  I believe, my dear, there are two hundred yards of edging on it; and it has the most enchanting slope to the shoulders.  I am wonderfully pleased with it, and hope it will prove becoming.”

“Indeed, I think all your suits are becoming.”

“Faith, child, I think they are.  I have always dressed with the most perfect intelligence.  I follow all the fashions, and they must be French.  La, here comes Richard.  He is going to ask you to take a sail on the river; and I shall lend you my new green parasol.  I do believe it is the only one in the country.”

“I came to sit with you, and work with my worsteds.  Perhaps my mother—­might not like me to go on the river with—­any one.”

“Pray, child, don’t be affected.  ’My mother—­might not like me to go on the river with—­any one;’” and she mimicked Katherine so cleverly that the girl’s face burned with shame and annoyance.

But she had no time to defend herself; for, with his cavalry cap in his hand, and a low bow, Captain Hyde entered the room; and Katharine’s heart throbbed in her cheeks, and she trembled, and yet withal dimpled into smiles, like clear water in the sunshine.  A few minutes afterward she was going down the terrace steps with him; and he was looking into her face with shining eyes, and whispering the commonest words in such an enchanting manner that it seemed to her as if her feet scarcely touched the low, white steps, and she was some sort of glorified Katherine Van Heemskirk, who never, never, never could be unhappy again.

They did not go on the river.  Captain Hyde hated exertion.  His splendid uniform was too tight to row in.  He did not want a third party near, in any capacity.  The lower steps were shaded by great water beeches, and the turf under them was green and warm.  There was the scent of lilies around, the song of birds above, the ripple of water among pebbles at their feet.  A sweeter hour, a lovelier maid, man could never hope to find; and Captain Hyde was not one to neglect his opportunity.