along . . . Toetie? Come along. Cut for partners. . . . Come, Paul . . . Do!”
“No, Aunt, I won’t play, thanks.”
“Oh, it’s difficult this evening!” said Auntie. “Van Naghel and Bertha not yet here, eh? Come on. . . . Ajo now, let’s play! Ah, there are Karel and Cateau! Why are you so late, eh? . . . Ajo then, cut for partners . . . let’s have a rubber!”
And Auntie at once enlisted Karel and Cateau, refused to let them go, forced matters, insisted on having a nice, quiet, friendly rubber, as at all the usual “family-groups.” But Cateau at once noticed the excitement infecting everybody in both the big rooms with restlessness and, catching sight of Adolphine, she managed, before cutting, to escape Auntie Lot and ask:
“Why, Adolph-ine, what are you cry-ing for? Are you up-set about any-thing?”
“The hound! The cad! And he wants to challenge my husband in addition!”
“Chal-lenge him?” cried the terrified Cateau. “A reg-u-lar du-el! No! The bro-thers and sisters will nev-er consent to that! There’s too much been talked and writ-ten about the family as it is!” she whispered. “Writ-ten and print-ed!”
And Cateau’s whining words bore evidence to the tragic alarm that fluttered through her sleek, broad-bosomed respectability, while her owl’s eyes opened rounder and wider than ever.
But Auntie Lot came to fetch Cateau and dragged
