"I've never seen it in such companionship."
"Callous-hearted Albatross! You'll unconsecrate the church for Miss Van Buren. Can't you see she'll have none of you?"
"I shall need the more time to make her change her mind. Every minute counts. Au revoir. Don't let Tibe escape, or I pity you with your aunt."
"I wish he'd jump into the nearest canal. Look here, Gouda's a fraud. We've had a loathsome lunch—cold ham and pappy bread—with paper napkins, and the whole meal served on one plate, by a female even my aunt was afraid of. There isn't a cow within miles, much less a cow with a coat——"
"Perhaps one may pass while you wait. Ta, ta. Your turn will come soon." And I left him glaring at Tibe and muttering threats of revenge against me.
All the windows of the Gouda church are beautiful, but the Haarlem window would warm the coldest heart, and I was not surprised to find Miss Van Buren already gazing at it, a lovely light streaming through the old glass upon her uplifted face. She is a girl to find out the best things at once, by instinct.
There she stood, lost in delight, and when I, assuming more boldness than I felt, walked quietly across the church and stopped close behind her, she threw just enough of a look at the new-comer to see that it was a tallish man in gray.
"Is that you, Mr. Starr?" she asked; but sure that no stranger would approach so near, and believing me at a safe distance, she took the answer for granted. "What a fairyland in glass there is in this church!" she went on, joyously. "What skies, and backgrounds of medieval castles and towers, and what luminous colors. I'd love to be one of those little red and yellow men looking out of the tower at the battle going on below, among the queer ships wallowing in the crisp waves, and live always in that fantastic glass country. I want to know what's inside the tower, don't you? Which man will you choose to be?"
"The one on your right side," said I, quietly.
Then she whisked round, and blushed with vexation.