"Of all earthly things, a letter from that poor child, Katherine Van
Heemskirk. She has more wit than I expected. So her father won't let her
come to me. Why, then, upon my word, I will go to her."

Captain Hyde was interested at once. He took the letter his aunt
offered, and read it with a feeling of love and pity and resentment.
"You will go to-morrow?" he asked; "and would it be beyond good breeding
for me to accompany you?"

"Indeed, nephew, I think it would. But I will give your service, and say
everything that is agreeable. Be patient; to-morrow morning I will call
upon our fair neighbour."

The next morning was damp, for there had been heavy rain during the
night; but Captain Hyde would not let his aunt forget or forego her
promise. She had determined to make an unceremonious visit; and early in
the day she put on her bonnet and pelisse, and walked over to the Van
Heemskirks. A negro woman was polishing the brass ornaments of the door,
and over its spotless threshold she passed without question or delay.

A few minutes she waited alone in the best parlour, charmed with its far
off air and Eastern scents, and then Madam Van Heemskirk welcomed her.
In her heart she was pleased at the visit. She thought privately that
her Joris had been a little too strict. She did not really see why her
beautiful daughters should not have the society and admiration of the
very best people in the Province. And Mrs. Gordon's praise of Katharine,
and her declaration that "she was inconsolable without the dear
creature's society," seemed to the fond mother the most proper and
natural of feelings.