Walter Pieterse Part 47

Once out in the hall, Walter hesitated again. He motioned to Sietske and took her back into the room.

"Sietske, who is that?"

"That is a great-great-great-great-grandmother of ours."

"But she looks like----"

"Like Femke! Of course. Like me, too. When Hermann puts on such a cap you can't tell him from Femke. Come, now. We mustn't keep mamma waiting."

On entering the dining-room Walter was met by that quiet cordiality that the doctor had prescribed. When all were seated Sietske mentioned the picture again in apologizing to Walter for hurrying him away from it.

"Yes," remarked the doctor quietly, "there is some resemblance; but Femke is not so pretty. No, not by a great deal."

A cold douche!

Walter had never thought of Femke's beauty. He really did not know whether the girl was pretty, or not.

"Will you take some sauce, Walter?"

She had called him brother, so solemnly, and with such a mien! Of course the lady in the portrait, with the sparkling diadem, would hold out her hand the same way. Walter made an awkward gesture with his hand.

"Salad?" asked Sietske.

"It will be crowded," said Mevrouw Holsma. "Everyone will want to see the kings and princes. We haven't asked our guest yet if he wants to go. We're going to the theatre; would you like to go with us?"

Walter was charmed at the prospect. He had never been in a theatre, but had long wanted to see such a play as Leentje had described. He cared nothing for kings. He would have given a dozen kings for one baron carrying away a girl in the approved manner. The Glorioso influence was still on him.

"We shall see half of the sovereigns of Europe," said Holsma, "and a dozen candidates----"

Walter wondered what the candidates would do in the "comedy." Sietske explained.

There was still plenty of time. Holsma was going out to see a patient and promised to stop at Juffrouw Pieterse's.

For reasons of fas.h.i.+on and feminine finery the play was not to begin till nine o'clock.

Walter heard that Femke, too, was to witness the performance; and from the conversation he gathered that the relations existing between the aristocratic family and the poor wash-girl were most cordial. Mevrouw Holsma sent Sietske to ask Femke to come in; but Femke preferred to remain with little Erich, with whom she was playing at the time.

"Erich?" thought Walter.

"I thought as much," said Mevrouw Holsma. "That's why she wasn't at the table. She would rather stay with the baby."

"She says, too, that we sit at the table too long for her," added Sietske.

"She wouldn't enjoy the play anyway," observed William. "She's a good girl, but she's a little thick-headed. Don't you think so, mamma?"

"Everyone must act according to his own convictions, and consult his own tastes. Femke is too good to be forced to anything."

There must have been some special reason why the mother was going to the theatre with the rest, when she preferred to stay at home with little Erich, who had the measles. But she was going to remain "only a little while," and then come back with Uncle Sybrand. He would return to the theatre taking Femke with him, if she cared to go.

"I call it thick-headedness," affirmed William. "She just don't want to put on a fine dress."

"No, she doesn't want to be a fine lady," said the mother. "She is very sensible and fears that this might disturb her relations with her mother. We ought to have taken her when she was little; but Mrs. Claus couldn't give her up then. And now Femke can't give herself up."

"She's only stubborn," William explained.

"She is proud," corrected his mother, "too proud to appear other than she is. She wouldn't exchange places with a princess."

Uncle Sybrand came. He announced that the "Scylla" of Rotgans was to be given, followed by "Chloris," with something else as a close. Holsma had already returned, bringing Walter the a.s.surance that it was all right with his mother.

Walter was enchanted in antic.i.p.ation. Was he still thinking of Femke?

William said: "So far as I'm concerned she can stay at home. Suppose the students were to see me with a peasant girl! What would they do for me when I enter college in September?"

Such an Amsterdamer calls everybody a "peasant," even if he is a student and able to explain what sort of a "Scylla" that was.

All were now dressed and starting. Walter was to see his first "comedy," and, perhaps, take a part in one.

CHAPTER x.x.xI

Good Muse, sweet Muse, take us back to Pieterseville again. Whisper to me and tell me what happened there during Walter's romantic enchantment; and have a care that my language rises to the dignity of the subject.

We know already, Clio, how the mistress of the castle saw her progeny depart to protect the distressed lady from the nefarious attacks of robbers and murderers; how her blessing and the consecrated blade were withheld, and how the brave youth sallied forth with a nightcap his only weapon. We know, too, how the bachelor Stoffel, the hereditary custodian of the reputation of the family----

Ah, let us treat the matter quite simply, and leave the muse alone.

On the Friday evening in question Juffrouw Pieterse went to bed as usual. The others did the same. There were no indications of bad dreams. There was no trace of anxiety over the terrible danger to which Walter had thoughtlessly exposed himself. This might have been because they did not know of the danger. It had not been at all necessary for Juffrouw Laps to conceal her intention so slyly and always omit Walter's name from the knighthood of the Pieterse family. Thanks to the stupidity of the family, she might have gained her point without any finesse.

Sat.u.r.day morning dawned, that morning on which Mrs. Claus applied the restoratives so abundantly, and so efficaciously.

"I wonder where in the world the boy can be so long?" said the mother.

"I don't suppose he got up very early; and then maybe she had him to read a chapter out of the Bible at breakfast."

This explanation by Stoffel quieted the family for half an hour.

"How would it do for you to go over there?" Juffrouw Pieterse proposed at last.

"I'm not going, mother. You know it isn't on my way to school."

That was a sufficient reason. Never do anything that isn't on your way--one of the favorite maxims of conservatism. Stoffel himself did not know how profound was the wisdom of his political aphorism.

"How would it do, then, to send Leentje over to Juffrouw Laps's to inquire about Walter?"

This proposal met with approval, and Leentje was dispatched forthwith.