I could not advance to speak, though I was strongly in hopes the old black
nurse who was with her would recognise me, for she had manifested much
concern about me on the occasion of the quarrel with the young butcher.
This did not occur; and old Katrinke, as I heard the negress called,
jabbered away, explaining the meaning of the different ceremonies of
her race, to a cluster of very interested listeners, without paying any
attention to me. The tongues of the pretty little things went, as girls'
tongues will go, though my unknown fair one maintained all the reserve
and quiet of manner that comported with her young womanhood, and apparent
condition in life.

"Dere, Miss Anneke!" exclaimed Katrinke, suddenly; "dere come a genttleum
dat will bring a pleasure, I know."

"_Anneke," I_ repeated, mentally, and "gentleman that will cause pleasure
by his appearance." "Can it be Dirck?" I thought. Sure enough, Dirck it
proved to be, who advanced rapidly to the group, making a general salute,
and finishing by shaking my beautiful young stranger's hands, and
addressing her by the name of "cousin Anneke." This, then, was Annie
Mordaunt, as the young lady was commonly called in the English circles,
the only child and heiress of Herman Mordaunt, of Crown Street and of
Lilacsbush. Well, Dirck has more taste than I had ever given him credit
for! Just as this thought glanced through my mind, my figure caught my
friend's eye, and, with a look of pride and exultation, he signed to me to
draw nearer, though I had managed to get pretty near as it was, already.

"Cousin Anneke," said Dirck, who never used circumlocution, when direct
means were at all available, "this is Corny Littlepage, of whom you have
heard me speak so often, and for whom I ask one of your best curtsies and
sweetest smiles."