“Marianne, here’s my key-basket; just pay it, will you? It’s sixty-six guilders.”
The two Leiden boys came upstairs:
“Jolly beastly, I call it,” said Frans. “You never find any one in the drawing-room, when you come home. Either it’s a party, or else everything’s upside down.”
“Bless my soul, girls,” said Henri, “look at the state your room’s in!”
“I say, shall I help you unpack?”
“Mevrouw, I can’t understand what the young mevrouw’s baboe[1] says. . . .”
“Mau apa,[2] Alima?”
“Njonja moeda[3] asks if njonja besar[4] would mind coming upstairs,” said the baboe, in Malay.
“Yes, I’ll come at once.”
“What are you all doing here?” asked Marietje, at the door. “Mamma, has Emilie’s dress come? May I see?”
“If you please, mevrouw, the old mevrouw and Mrs. van der Welcke are downstairs. . . . Shall I ask them to wait in the drawing-room?”
“Granny!” shouted Frans over the balusters.
“Half a moment!” said Henri, rushing down the stairs. “I’ll fetch Granny and Auntie.”
Marianne began sobbing again:
“My dear child, what’s the matter now?” exclaimed Bertha.
