"There's the rank and fashion of Baarn!" sneered Marietje. "The great sight of the day: three tradesmen and a hunch-backed shop-girl. Uncle Paul would say, three and a half atoms of human wretchedness. . . . Another tradesman and another shop-girl. . . . Two ladies. . . . Look, as I live, two ladies! . . . Goodness me, it's Aunt Constance and . . . and Emilie!"
"Nonsense!"
"Yes, yes, it's Aunt Constance and Emilie! Hurrah!"
And Marietje, in sheer wild ecstasy at the unexpected distraction, threw the "nightie" right up to the ceiling, where it caught in the chandelier, and rushed through the garden down the road. She flung one leg up in the air with delight.
"Auntie! Emilie!" Marianne heard her yelling, quite beside herself.
Marietje embraced her aunt and her sister madly at the gate of the villa, conducted them indoors, thanked them personally for the surprise which they were giving her, for the welcome distraction which their arrival provided. . . .
"And Uncle Ernst?" asked Marianne. "Poor Uncle Ernst! We had a letter from Frances. . . ."
Constance told her how he was getting on at Nunspeet, that he was still rather restless, because he would look all over the house for fettered souls that moaned and implored him to help them.
