"Why how is this?" asked my uncle, holding Avice off and looking at her. "Methinks my drooping flower is blooming again."
"Ay, and with good reason," answered Avice. "After all our fears, Garrett has come home safe and sound, and not much the worse for his captivity among the Moors."
"Heaven be praised! But, daughter, you do not speak to your guest. Do you not know her?"
Avice turned—I verily believe she had taken no note of me before—and looked at me for a moment with a gaze so like one of her old innocent looks of wonder, that I could not forbear smiling.
"Loveday, it is Loveday!" she exclaimed, and I had no cause to find fault with my welcome. I was led up stairs all in a moment, and into a parlor where sat my Aunt Holland, looking not so much older than when I saw her last. What a meeting it was. How we women talked and laughed and cried, and asked endless questions and staid for no answers. How old Sambo, his wool whiter than any sheep's, kissed my hand and blubbered and giggled, all in a breath, and afterward danced a dance of triumph out in the courtyard. By and by Avice would lead me to my room to refresh myself with a change of dress before eating.
I declare, when I was left alone in the room, I was afraid to stir. I thought we had been neat at the convent, but our utmost cleanness was sluttery compared to that which reigned here. The glass windows, which were seen every where in Holland long before they were common in gentlemen's houses in England, were clear as air, and the laced curtains which veiled the lower parts whiter than any snow. Beautiful pots of Delft ware, holding growing and blossoming plants, stood in the window-seat, and the very floor was of rare wood waxed and polished like a mirror, so as to make walking somewhat perilous to the unaccustomed foot. The bed was all in white and pale blue, and there was not so much as a speck of dust to be seen any where.
Avice left the room, and presently came back with an armful of clean linen and a gown. She would help me to dress, but that I would not allow, so bidding me come down when I was ready, she left me. I dressed myself at last, and went back to the room I had left, where I found a table spread with all sorts of good things, while a tall, handsome, solemn-looking maid-servant, wearing the same sort of head ornament I had seen in the street, kept bringing still more. Here I was introduced to my cousin's husband, a stately gentleman, but looking worn and sunburned. I had found my appetite by this time, and did full justice to the dainties before me.
"And Katherine is well?" asked my uncle.
"Yes, very well; and her new babe. The little lad hath had the ague, but is recovered—so she writes."
"Ay, they are like to have a fine wreath of olive branches," said Mynheer Van Alstine, with something of a sigh. "Methinks they might spare us one."