life, with a drive for a rare holiday treat, and the discovery of a
new flower as the goal of all hope and ambition. Things did not happen
to them, bad things that needed doubtful remedies; they had never had
to scratch for their living, and show one face outwards and another
in. They, none of them, ever wanted to do things; they had not the
courage. How much of virtue was lack of courage and a desire not to be
remarkable?

Julia asked herself the question defiantly, and did not hear Joost
come out of the house. He was carrying a lantern, and was going to
make his nightly round of the barns. She did not hear his step, and so
started when she saw the light swing across the ground at her feet.

He was quite as startled to see her as she was to see him, but his
greeting was a very usual question in Holland, "Will you not catch
cold?"

She shook her head, and he asked, "What are you doing? Thinking?
Weaving in your head all that you have seen and heard to-day?"

"No," she answered; "I was thinking about courage."

"Courage?" he repeated, puzzled.

"Yes, it is very different in different places; some people are afraid
to tell the truth, so they lie; and some are afraid to be dishonest,
so they are honest; I believe it depends partly on fashion."

Joost set down the lantern in sheer surprise. "Such things cannot
depend on fashion," he said severely.