“I—I—fell down the dike. I have—lost—everybody. Oh, how shall I ever get back to father?” answered Katharine in her very poor Dutch.
“But tell me, little one, where you came from—ach! so cold and wet!”
“I was spending the day with Marie and Gretel—and—Jan—and we were walking on the dike when the fog came on; then I fell, and could not find my way—”
“Gretel and Jan—could they be Juffrouw Van Dyne’s children?”
“Yes, yes,” eagerly; “that is where I was. Oh, can you take me back, dear, dear juffrouw?”
“Yes, when the fog clears away, my child. I could not find the house now; it is more than two miles from here. Besides, you must put off these wet clothes; you will get your death of cold—poor lambkin.”
At this Katharine’s sobs broke forth afresh. It must be late in the evening now, she thought; her father would come to Marie’s and would not be able to find her—
“No, dear child, it is only four o’clock in the afternoon. The fog may clear away very soon, and then I will take you back.”
Quickly the wet garments were taken off and hung about the stove. Katharine presently found herself wrapped up in blankets in a great arm-chair in front of the fire, a cushion at her back and another under her feet, drinking some nice hot broth, and feeling so warm and comfortable that she fell fast asleep, and awoke two hours later to find the room quite light, the fog almost gone, the juffrouw sitting beside her knitting, and a comfortable-looking cat purring noisily at her feet.