"So true art thou! So loving! So dear to me! Even in England I can be happy if I think of thee Here--filling these big rooms with good company; riding, shooting, over thine own land, fishing in thy own waters, telling thy boys and girls how dear grandmother had this pond dug--this hedge planted--these woods filled with game--these streams set with willows--these summerhouses built for pleasure. Oh, I have thought ever as I worked, I shall leave my memory here--and here--and here again--for never, Joris, never, dear Joris, while thou art in this world, must thou forget me!"
"Never! Never, oh never, dear, dear mother!"
And that night they said no more. Both felt there would be plenty of time in the future to consider whatever changes it might have in store for them.