Kathrien turned from the window at last and seated herself idly at the piano. Her slender fingers drifted half-aimlessly over the keys. Frederik lounged over to the piano and stood looking down at her.
Presently she began to sing. Frederik joined in the song and their young voices blended sweetly in the old Dutch and English words:
"Van een twee, een twee, nu
Ste-ken wij van wal:
The bird so free in the heavens
Is but the slave of the nest.
For all must toil as God wills it,
Must laugh and toil and rest.
"The rose must blow in the gardens,
The bee must gather its store.
The cat must watch the mousehole,
And the dog must guard the door!"
As the voices died away, Peter Grimm came out of his tortuous reverie. He had reached a decision. And, having once made up his mind, he was not a man to delay the execution of any plan.
"Katje!" he called, with sharp eagerness.
Startled at his unwonted tone, the girl hurried across to him.
"Yes, Oom Peter?" she asked.
"Get me—the Staaten Bible, please. Quickly."
Wondering at the peremptory tone of the familiar request, Kathrien obeyed, bringing the heavy old book to the table at his side; and opening it, from long habit, at the closely written pages of the Grimm family genealogy.
"There!" said Peter, running his finger down the last record page until it stopped at the blank space just below his own name.