Katherine stood with her child in her arms, listening to the ever faint

and fainter beat of Mephisto's hoofs. Her husband had gone back to duty,

his furlough had expired, and their long, and leisurely honeymoon was

over. But she was neither fearful nor unhappy. Hyde's friends had

procured his exchange into a court regiment. He was only going to

London, and he was still her lover. She looked forward with clear eyes

as she said gratefully over to herself, "So happy am I! So good is my

husband! So dear is my child! So fair and sweet is my home!"

And though to many minds Hyde Manor might seem neither fair nor sweet,

Katherine really liked it. Perhaps she had some inherited taste for low

lands, with their shimmer of water and patches of green; or perhaps the

gentle beauty of the landscape specially fitted her temperament. But, at

any rate, the wide brown stretches, dotted with lonely windmills and low

farmhouses, pleased her. So also did the marshes, fringed with yellow

and purple flags; and the great ditches, white with water-lilies; and

the high belts of natural turf; and the summer sunshine, which over this

level land had a white brilliancy to which other sunshine seemed shadow.

Hyde had never before found the country endurable, except during the

season when the marshes were full of birds; or when, at the Christmas

holidays, the ice was firm as marble and smooth as glass, and the wind

blowing fair from behind. Then he had liked well a race with the famous

fen-skaters.

The Manor House was neither handsome nor picturesque, though its

dark-red bricks made telling contrasts among the ivy and the few large

trees surrounding it. It contained a great number of rooms, but none

were of large proportions. The ceilings were low, and often crossed with

heavy oak beams; while the floors, though of polished oak, were very

uneven. Hyde had refurnished a few of the rooms; and the showy paperings

and chintzes, the fine satin and gilding, looked oddly at variance with

the black oak wainscots, the Elizabethan fireplaces, and the other

internal decorations.

Katherine, however, had no sense of any incongruity. She was charmed

with her home, from its big garrets to the great wine-bins in its

underground cellars; and while Hyde wandered about the fens with his

fishing-rod or gun, or went into the little town of Hyde to meet over a

market dinner the neighbouring squires, she was busy arranging every

room with that scrupulous nicety and cleanliness which had been not only

an important part of her education, but was also a fundamental trait of

her character. Indeed, no Dutch wife ever had the netheid, or passion

for order and cleanliness, in greater perfection than Katherine. She

might almost have come from Wormeldingen, "where the homes are washed

and waxed, and the streets brushed and dusted till not a straw lies

about, and the trees have a combed and brushed appearance, and do not

dare to grow a leaf out of its place." So, then, the putting in order of

this large house, with all its miscellaneous, uncared-for furniture,

gave her a genuine pleasure.




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