All who were going towards the Zyl-Gate seemed gay and careless, every face showed what joyous hours in the open air and sunny meadows were anticipated.  The object that attracted them appeared beautiful and desirable to Maria also, but what should she do among the happy, how could she be alone amid strangers with her troubled heart?  The shadows of the houses seemed especially dark to-day, the air of the city heavier than usual, as if the spring had come to every human being, great and small, old and young, except herself.

The buildings and the trees that bordered the Achtergracht were already casting longer shadows, and the golden mists hovering over the roofs began to be mingled with a faint rosy light, when Maria heard a horseman trotting up the street.  She drew herself up rigidly and her heart throbbed violently.  She would not receive Peter any differently from usual, she must be frank to him and show him how she felt, and that matters could not go on so, nay she was already trying to find fitting words for what she had to say to him.  Just at that moment, the horse stopped before the door.  She went to the window; saw her husband swing himself from the saddle and look joyously up to the window of her room and, though she made no sign of greeting, her heart drew her towards him.  Every thought, every fancy was forgotten, and with winged steps she flew down the corridor to the stairs.  Meantime he had entered, and she called his name.  “Maria, child, are you there!” he shouted, rushed up the steps as nimbly as a youth, met her on one of the upper stairs and drew her with overflowing tenderness to his heart.

“At last, at last, I have you again!” he cried joyously, pressing his lips to her eyes and her fragrant hair.  She had clasped her hands closely around his neck, but he released himself, held them in his, and asked:  “Are Barbara and Adrian at home?”

She shook her head.

The burgomaster laughed, stooped, lifted her up like a child, and carried her into his room.  As a beautiful tree beside a burning house is seized by the neighboring flames, although immediately protected with cold water, Maria, in spite of her long-cherished resolve to receive him coolly, was overwhelmed by the warmth of her husband’s feelings.  She cordially rejoiced in having him once more, and willingly believed him, as he told her in loving words how painfully he had felt their separation, how sorely he had missed her, and how distinctly he, who usually lacked the ability to remember an absent person, had had her image before his eyes.

How warmly, with what convincing tones he understood how to give expression to his love to-day!  She was still a happy wife, and showed him that she was without reserve.

Barbara and Adrian returned home, and there was now much to tell at the evening meal.  Peter had had many a strange experience on the journey, and gained fresh hope, the boy had distinguished himself at school, and Bessie’s sickness might already be called a danger happily overcome.  Barbara was radiant with joy, for all seemed well between Maria and her brother.