This abstinence may seem strange, but some explanation of their
self-restraint was to be found in Dirk's character. In mind he was
patient, very deliberate in forming his purposes, and very sure in
carrying them out. He felt impulses like other men, but he did not
give way to them. For two years or more he had loved Lysbeth, but being
somewhat slow at reading the ways of women he was not quite certain
that she loved him, and above everything on earth he dreaded a rebuff.
Moreover he knew her to be an heiress, and as his own means were still
humble, and his expectations from his father small, he did not feel
justified in asking her in marriage until his position was more assured.
Had the Captain Carolus still been living the case would have been
different, for then he could have gone to him. But he was dead, and
Dirk's fine and sensitive nature recoiled from the thought that it might
be said of him that he had taken advantage of the inexperience of a
kinswoman in order to win her fortune. Also deep down in his mind he had
a sincerer and quite secret reason for reticence, whereof more in its
proper place.

Thus matters stood between these two. To-day, however, though only with
diffidence and after some encouragement from the lady, he had asked
leave to be his cousin's cavalier at the ice fete, and when she
consented, readily enough, appointed the moat as their place of meeting.
This was somewhat less than Lysbeth expected, for she wished his escort
through the town. But, when she hinted as much, Dirk explained that he
would not be able to leave the works before three o'clock, as the metal
for a large bell had been run into the casting, and he must watch it
while it cooled.

So, followed only by her maid, Greta, Lysbeth glided lightly as a bird
down the ice path on to the moat, and across it, through the narrow