“Van Raven.” And she gave him her hand. “My best wishes for your happiness, Emilie.”
“Thank you, Aunt.”
“And there’s another wedding in prospect,” said Mamma. “Floortje and Dijkerhof. . . .”
And she beckoned to Floortje, who introduced Dijkerhof.
Meanwhile, the members of the family tried to behave as usual. They talked together, as though in ordinary conversation. Uncle Ruyvenaer arranged the parties at the card-tables:
“Karel, Toetie, Louise, Gerrit. . . . Bertha, Cateau, Van Saetzema, Ernst. . . .”
His voice marshalled the troops. The younger generation were put to play round games at a long table in the conservatory.
Constance gave a soft laugh:
“What a lot of us there are, Mamma, at your Sundays!”
What a lot of us: the word had a special charm for her.
Meanwhile, Uncle Ruyvenaer was teasing his two old sisters:
“Come Rientje and Tientje. . . . Don’t you want to play bridge?”
“What?”
“Herman wants to know if you’re going to play bridge?” screamed Auntie Tine in Auntie Rine’s ear.
“Bridge?”
