eyes and fresh open face. God is good, who gives us boys and girls to
sit so near our hearts."

"And such a fair, free city for a home!" said Van Heemskirk as he looked
up and down the sunshiny street. New York is not perfect, but we love
her. Right or wrong, we love her; just as we love our mother, and our
little children."

"That, also, is what the Domine says," answered Van Ariens; "and yet, he
likes not that New York favours the French so much. When Liberty has no
God, and no Sabbath day, and no heaven, and no hell, the Domine is not
in favour of Liberty. He is uneasy for the country, and for his church;
and if he could take his whole flock to heaven at once, that would
please him most of all."

"He is a good man. With you, last night, was a little maid--a great
beauty I thought her--but I knew her not. Is she then a stranger?"

"A stranger! Come, come! The little one is a very child of New York. She
is the daughter of Dr. Moran--Dr. John, as we all call him."

"Well, look now, I thought in her face there was something that went to
my heart and memory."

"And, as you know, that is his house across the street from us, and it
was his father's house, and his grandfather's house; and before that,
the Morans lived in Winckle Street; and before that, in the Lady's
Valley; so, then, when Van Clyffe built this house for them, they only
came back to their first home. Yes, it is so. The Morans have seen the
birth of this city. Who, then, can be less of a stranger in it than the