“Yes, Papa, awfully!” said Toetie, as she passed on her partner’s arm.
The Ruyvenaer girls, though no longer young, always enjoyed themselves “awfully,” not caring whether it was at Bertha’s or Adolphine’s. Good-natured, kindly, simply and pleasantly Indian in their ways, they loved dancing, they always enjoyed themselves “awfully.”
“And, Dotje, what do you think of my party?”
“Oh, Adolphine, so jolly your party: I’m enjoying it awfully.”
And Dot also shone with gratitude and perspiration after dancing.
“Are those the Dijkerhofs’ friends?” asked Mamma van Lowe, in a whisper, of Bertha, glancing towards a gentleman and a lady who had been introduced to her, but whose name she had not caught. “What strange friends those Dijkerhofs have! Such obscure people: one never knows who they are or what they are! Very vulgar people, I think. It’s such a pity, Bertha, isn’t it? Dijkerhof himself is not bad; and, if Floortje is fond of him, well, I suppose it will be all right; but I must admit I am sorry that Adolphine is mixed up with this lot. . . . And those people over there, Bertha, the stout man and the tall woman with whom Adeline is talking so familiarly: are those intimate friends? What curious friends she has! . . . It must strike Constance too, now that she’s come back to it all. At our house there was a certain harmony, a set, as there is in your house now, Bertha. But, at Adol-
