t. There were the streets, there was
"The Silver Lion." Nothing had changed but he, who walked through it
barefoot, with his heart calm and cold, his hands across his breast,
and his eyes bent meekly on the ground, a true son of Dominic and Holy
Church.

CHAPTER LXXXI

THE HEARTH

"Eli," said Catherine, "answer me one question like a man, and I'll ask
no more to-day. What is wormwood?"

Eli looked a little helpless at this sudden demand upon his faculties;
but soon recovered enough to say it was something that tasted main
bitter.

"That is a fair answer, my man, but not the one I look for."

"Then answer it yourself."

"And shall. Wormwood is--to have two in the house a-doing nought, but
waiting for thy shoes and mine," Eli groaned. The shaft struck home.

"Methinks waiting for their best friend's coffin, that and nothing to
do, are enow to make them worse than Nature meant. Why not set them up
somewhere, to give 'em a chance?"

Eli said he was willing, but afraid they would drink and gamble their
very shelves away.

"Nay," said Catherine, "Dost take me for a simpleton? Of course I mean
to watch them at starting, and drive them wi' a loose rein, as the
saying is."

"Where did you think of? Not here; to divide our own custom."

"Not likely. I say Rotterdam against the world. Then I could start
them."

Oh, self-deception! The true motive of all this was to get near little
Gerard.

After many discussions and eager promises of amendment on these terms
from Cornelis and Sybrandt, Catherine went to Rotterdam shop-hunting,
and took Kate with her; for a change, They soon found one, and in a good
street; but it was sadly out of order. However, they got it cheaper for
that, and instantly set about brushing it up, fitting proper shelves for
the business, and making the dwelling-house habitable.

Luke Peterson was always asking Margaret what he could do for her. The
answer used to be in a sad tone, "Nothing, Luke, nothing."

"What, you that are so clever, can you think of nothing for me to do for
you?"

"Nothing, Luke, nothing."

But at last she varied the reply thus: "If you could make something to
help my sweet sister Kate about."

The slave of love consented joyfully, and soon made Kate a little cart,
and cushioned it, and yoked himself into it, and at eventide drew her
out of the town, and along the pleasant boulevard, with Margaret and
Catherine walking beside. It looked a happier party than it