"It is the most astonishing thing I ever heard of. That gruff old doctor is a great fellow after all."
"Ah! mynheer," said Hans, warmly, "he is more than great. He is good. But for the meester's kind heart and great skill my poor father would yet be in the dark. I think, mynheer," he added, with kindling eyes, "surgery is the very noblest science in the world!"
Peter shrugged his shoulders. "Very noble it may be, but not quite to my taste. This Dr. Boekman certainly has skill. As for his heart—defend me from such hearts as his!"
"Why do you say so, mynheer?" asked Hans.
Just then a lady slowly entered from an adjoining apartment. It was Mevrouw van Holp arrayed in the grandest of caps, and the longest of satin aprons ruffled with lace. She nodded placidly as Hans stepped back from the fire bowing as well as he knew how.
Peter at once drew a high-backed oaken chair toward the fire, and the lady seated herself. There was a block of cork on each side of the chimney-place. One of these he placed under his mother's feet.
Hans turned to go.
"Wait a moment, if you please, young man," said the lady. "I accidentally overheard you and my son speaking I think of my friend Dr. Boekman. You are right, young man. Dr. Boekman has a very kind heart. You perceive, Peter, we may be quite mistaken in judging of a person solely by their manners, though a courteous deportment is by no means to be despised."
"I intended no disrespect, mother," said Peter, "but surely one has no right to go growling and snarling through the world, as they say he does."
"They say. Ah, Peter, 'they' means everybody or nobody. Surgeon Boekman has had a great sorrow. Many years ago he lost his only child, under very painful circumstances, a fine lad, except that he was a thought too hasty and high spirited. Before then Gerard Boekman was one of the most agreeable gentlemen I ever knew."