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Updated: June 13, 2025
"Yes, doctor," answered Hersebom, gravely. "If he is not our son by birth, he is in love and affection," said Katrina, with moist eyes and trembling hands. "Between him, and Otto, and Vanda, we have made no difference we have never thought of him only as our own child." "These sentiments do you both honor," said the doctor, moved by the emotion of the brave woman.
He and Katrina had spent the whole morning trying to choose a name for the child. They had been at it for hours, without arriving at a decision. Finally Katrina had said: "I don't see but that you'll have to take the child and go stand on the stoop with her.
This rantipole hero had for some time singled out the blooming Katrina for the object of his uncouth gallantries, and, though his amorous toyings were something like the gentle caresses and endearments of a bear, yet it was whispered that she did not altogether discourage his hopes.
Carroll has gone into the dining-room," the servant told them at the door, and Sydney assumed much cheerfulness as she made her apologies. "I've brought Bob, grandmother. He's been all over everywhere with me this morning. You'll forgive me, Katrina, for leaving you, won't you? Where's Mr. Wendell?" "Not back from Asheville yet." "He went in yesterday," explained Mrs. Carroll to Bob.
"Don't you do that! A man can't stand a woman tagging at his heels. He's got to have room, and air to breathe." "Smoke, you mean," put in Katrina, with returning spirit, "and I warn you, Grandfather, that if you make fires off our place, you'll be arrested." "Pooh! Fires!" said Mr. McBride contemptuously. "Amusement for children. I ain't a-makin' fires these days, Katriny.
"No," he told her, but he may have lain on the ground a while. Then he must be ill, thought Katrina. It was not that either. It was just that something had stopped the instant it dawned on him that his little girl had offered to save the home for her parents not out of love for them, but because she longed to get away and go out in tine world. But this he would not speak of.
Now she knew why her mother was dying; she who had been faithful a lifetime was grieving herself to death for having failed Jan at the last. "Why should you have to fret your heart out over that, when I was the one who forced you to leave him?" said Glory Goldie. "Just the same the memory of it has been so painful," replied Katrina. "But now all is well again between Jan and me."
She was a subdued, rather chastened Katrina, whose thoughtful, slightly puzzled expression might have suggested to maturer minds that some, at least, of the vaunted joys of domestic life had thus far escaped her. She urged us to come to her at once the next day, in fact and we accepted her invitation with the alacrity it deserved.
She did not attempt to run away or to lock up the house, knowing that that would be useless with a man of his sort; but kept her seat. All she did was to pick up an unfinished stocking Katrina had left lying on the stone when starting out with Jan's supper a while ago, and go to knitting for dear life. She sat there as if quite calm and content, but with one eye on the gate.
In later times there lived in Tarrytown so named because of the tarrying habits of Dutch gossips on market days, though some hard-minded people insist that Tarwe-town means Wheat-towna gaunt schoolmaster, one Ichabod Crane, who cherished sweet sentiments for Katrina Van Tassell, the buxom daughter of a farmer, also a famous maker of pies and doughnuts.
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