On the contrary, Cornelia went with her for her cloak and bonnet, and said not a word as they trod the long stairway but “Oh dear!  How warm the evening is!”

“I expected you would ask me to stay with you, Cornelia.”  Arenta was tying her bonnet strings as she made this remark, and her fingers trembled, and her voice was full of hurt feeling.

“Rem behaved so badly, Arenta.”

“I think that is not so.  Did I also behave badly?”

“You were charming every moment of the evening; but Rem was on the point of quarrelling with Lieutenant Hyde.  You must have seen it.  In my father’s house, this was not proper.”

“I never saw Rem behave badly in my life.  Suppose he does quarrel with that dandy Englishman, Rem would not get the worst of it.  I have no fear for my brother Rem!  No, indeed!”

“Bulk does not stand for much in a sword game.”

“Do you mean they might fight a duel?”

“I think it is best for you to go home with Rem.  Otherwise, he might, in his present temper, find himself near Becker’s; and if a man is quarrelsome he may always get principals and seconds there.  You have told me this yourself.  In the morning Rem will, I hope, be reasonable.”

“I thought you and I would talk things over to-night.  I like to talk over a new pleasure.”

“Dear Arenta, we shall have so much more time, to-morrow.  Come to-morrow.”

But Arenta was not pleased.  She left her friend with an air of repressed injury, and afterwards made little remarks about Cornelia to her brother, which exactly fitted his sense of wounded pride.  Indeed, they stood a few minutes in the Van Ariens’ parlour to exchange their opinions still further—­

“I think Cornelia was jealous of me, Rem.  That, in plain Dutch, is what it all means.  Does she imagine that I desire the attentions of a man who is neither an American nor a Dutchman?  I do not.  I speak the truth always, for I love the truth.”

“Cornelia does desire them; I think that—­and it makes me wretched.”

“Oh, indeed, it is plain to see that she has fallen in love with that black-eyed man of many songs and dances.  Well, then, we must admit that he danced to perfection.  One may dislike the creature, and yet tell the truth.”

“Do you truly believe that Cornelia is in love with him?”

“Rem, there are things a woman observes.  Cornelia is changed to-night.  She did not wish me to stay and talk about this man Hyde—­she preferred thinking about him—­such reveries are suspicious.  I have felt the symptom.  But, however, I may be wrong.  Perhaps Cornelia was angry at Hyde, and anxious about you—­Do you think that?”

Rem would not admit any such explanation; and, indeed, Arenta only made such suppositions to render more poignant those entirely contrary.

“Ever since she was a little girl, twelve, eleven years old, I have loved her,” said Rem; “and she knows it.”