sir," cried Belotti, with touching earnestness. "The poor
child is lying helpless in a raging fever. If Heaven has blessed you
with children--"

"Be calm, old man, be calm," replied the fencing master, stroking
Belotti's grey hair kindly. "My children are nothing to you, but
we'll do what we can for the young girl. Farewell till we meet again,
gentlemen. Roland, my fore man, what shall we live to see! Hemp is still
cheap in Holland, and yet such a monster has lived amongst us to be as
old as a raven."

With these words he went down the ladder. On reaching the street, he
pondered over the words in which he should apologize to Doctor Bontius,
with a face as sour as if he had wormwood in his mouth; but his eyes and
bearded lips smiled.

His learned friend made the apology easy for him, and when Belotti came
home, he found the doctor by the sick girl's bed.

CHAPTER XI.

Frau Elizabeth von Nordwyk and Frau Van Bout had each asked the
burgomaster's wife to go into the country with them to enjoy the
beautiful spring day, but in spite of Barbara's persuasions, Maria could
not be induced to accept their invitation.

A week had elapsed since her husband's departure, a week whose days had
run their course from morning to evening as slowly as the brackish
water in one of the canals, intersecting the meadows of Holland, flowed
towards the river.

Sleep loves the couches of youth, and had again found hers, but with the
rising of the sun the dissatisfaction, anxiety and secret grief, that
slumber had kindly interrupted, once more returned. She felt that it was
not right, and her father would have blamed her if he had seen her thus.

There are women who are ashamed of rosy cheeks, unrestrained joy in
life, to whom the emotion of sorrow affords a mournful pleasure. To this
class Maria certainly did not belong. She would fain have been happy,
and left untried no means of regaining the lost joy of her heart.
Honestly striving to do her duty, she returned to little Bessie; but
the child was rapidly recovering and called for Barbara, Adrian or
Trautchen, as soon as she was left alone with her.

She tried to read, but the few books she had brought from Delft were
all familiar, and her thoughts, ere becoming fixed on the old volumes,
pursued their own course.

Wilhelm brought her the new motet, and she endeavored to sing it; but
music demands whole hearts from those who desire to enjoy her gifts, and
therefore melody and s