cause to love the New Netherlanders."

Marie turned to deliver Antonia her guest, but Antonia stood without
word or look for him. She seemed a scared Dutch child, bending all her
strength and all her inherited quiet on maintaining self-control. He
approached her, searching her face with his near-sighted large eyes.

"Had Madame Bronck no expectation of seeing Arendt Van Corlaer in
Acadia?"

"No, mynheer," whispered Antonia.

"But since I have come have you nothing to say to me?"

"I hope I see you well, mynheer."

"You might see me well," reproached Van Corlaer, "if you would look at
me."

She lifted her eyes and dropped them again.

"This Acadian air has given you a wan color," he noted.

"Did you leave Teunis and Marytje Harmentse well?" quavered Antonia,
catching at any scrap. Van Corlaer stared, and answered that Teunis and
Marytje were well, and would be grateful to her for inquiring.

"For they also helped to hide this priest from the Mohawks," added
Antonia without coherence. Marie could hear her heart laboring.