These lines of thought, almost tedious to indicate, flashed hotly and
vividly through his mind. The likes and dislikes, the faiths and
aspirations, of past centuries, coloured the present moments, as light
flung through richly stained glass has its white radiance tinged by it.
The feeling of race--that strong and mysterious tie which no time nor
circumstances can eradicate--was so living a motive in Joris Van
Heemskirk's heart, that he had been quite conscious of its appeal when
Semple spoke of a marriage between Katherine and his own son. And Semple
had understood this, when he so cunningly insinuated a common stock and
a common form of faith. For he had felt, instinctively, that even the
long tie of friendship between them was hardly sufficient to bridge over
the gulf of different nationalities.
Then, Katherine was Van Heemskirk's darling, the very apple of his eye.
He felt angry that already there should be plans laid to separate her in
any way from him. His eldest daughters, Cornelia and Anna, had married
men of substance in Esopus and Albany: he knew they had done well for
themselves, and had become contented in that knowledge; but he also
felt that they were far away from his love and home. Joanna was already
betrothed to Capt. Batavius de Vries; Bram would doubtless find himself
a wife very soon; for a little while, he had certainly hoped to keep
Katherine by his own side. Semple, in speaking of her as already
marriageable, had given him a shock. It seemed such a few years since he
had walked her to sleep at nights, cradled in his strong arms, close to
his great, loving heart; such a little while ago when she toddled about
the garden at his side, her plump white hands holding his big
forefinger; only yesterday that she had been going to the school, with
her spelling-book and Heidelberg in her hand. When Lysbet had spoken to
him of the English lady staying with Madam Semple, who was teaching
Katherine the new crewel-stitch, it had appeared to him quite proper
that such a child should be busy learning something in the way of
needlework. "Needlework" had been given as the reason of those visits,
which he now remembered had been very frequent; and he was so absolutely
truthful, that he never imagined the word to be in any measure a false
definition.
Therefore, Elder Semple's implication had stunned him like a buffet. In
his own room, he sat down on a big oak chest; and, as he thought, his
wrath slowly gathered. Semple knew that gay young English officers were
coming and going about his house, and he had not told him until he
feared they would interfere with his own plans for keeping Neil near to
him. The beautiful little Dutch maiden had been an attraction which he
was proud to exhibit, just as he was proud of his imported furniture,
his pictures, and his library. He remembered that Semple had spoken with
touching emphasis of his longing to keep his last son near home; but
must he give up his darling Katherine to further this plan?