He glanced with a sigh round the quiet garden.
“And I am so seldom at peace now I am a very fool to mar it. We will talk of other things.”
“There is nothing else that interests me, father.”
“That must not be, see how I have distressed thee. Nay, do not spoil my little hour of repose with these tears, dearest.… Why should you weep? Indeed I am well, only tired, a little tired, dear.… Nay, this is weakness, my Agneta.”
She was weeping silently.
“My burdens are not more than I can bear, but it hurts me you should weep.”
She stifled her tears.
“I think of you always, sir. When I was away in Dordt I wearied to be here—and I can be of no use to you … you are lonely.”
“Lonely?” he echoed wistfully.
Agneta trembled closer to him.