"No, Peter," cried the young wife eagerly. "There is no room in order
there."

"That can be arranged later. At any rate we'll invite him to dinner to-
morrow, he may have something to tell us. There is good marrow in the
young man. He begged me not to let him remain idle, but make him of use
in the service. Jan Van der Does has already put him in the right place,
the new commandant looks into people's hearts."

Barbara mingled in the conversation, Peter, though it was a week-day,
ordered a jug of wine to be brought instead of the beer, and an event
that had not occurred for weeks happened: the master of the house sat at
least fifteen minutes with his family after the food had been removed,
and told them of the rapid advance of the Spaniards, the sad fate of the
fugitive Englishmen, who had been disarmed and led away in sections, the
brave defence the Britons, to whose corps Georg belonged, had made at
Alfen, and of another hot combat in which Don Gaytan, the right-hand and
best officer of Valdez, was said to have fallen. Messengers still went
and came on the roads leading to Delft, but to-morrow these also would
probably be blocked by the enemy.

He always addressed everything he said to Maria, unless Barbara expressly
questioned him, and when he at last rose from the table, ordered a good
roast to be prepared the next day for the guest he intended to invite.
Scarcely had the door of his room closed behind him, when little Bessie
ran up to Maria, threw her arms around her and asked:

"Mother, isn't Junker Georg the tall captain with the blue feather, who
ran down-stairs so fast to meet you?"