reason, Elder Semple will be sure to croak about it. I could wish that
just now he had not come."

"But then he is here, and the welcome must be given to a caller on the
threshold. You know that, Joris."

"I will not break a good custom."

Elder Alexander Semple was a great man in his sphere. He had a
reputation for both riches and godliness, and was scarcely more
respected in the market-place than he was in the Middle Kirk. And there
was an old tie between the Semples and the Van Heemskirks,--a tie going
back to the days when the Scotch Covenanters and the Netherland
Confessors clasped hands as brothers in their "churches under the
cross." Then one of the Semples had fled for life from Scotland to
Holland, and been sheltered in the house of a Van Heemskirk; and from
generation to generation the friendship had been continued. So there was
much real kindness and very little ceremony between the families; and
the elder met his friend Joris with a grumble about having to act as
"convoy" for two lasses, when the river mist made the duty so
unpleasant.

"Not to say dangerous," he added, with a forced cough. "I hae my plaid
and my bonnet on; but a coat o' mail couldna stand mists, that are a
vera shadow o' death to an auld man, wi' a sair shortness o' the
breath."

"Sit down, Elder, near the fire. A glass of hot Hollands will take the
chill from you."