Huigje did not know what a dinner-party was:

"What's dinner-party?" he asked his little sister Ottelientje.

"Things to eat," said Ottelientje, importantly.

"Things to eat?"

"Yes, nice things ... ices."

"Shall we have dinner-party, Mamma, and ices?" whined Huigje.

"Allah, [6] baboe, [7] keep the sinjo [8] with you!... But, baboe, do me up first."

Otto, who now had a billet at the Foreign Office, came in, followed by Louise.

"Oh, aren't you dressing, Louise?" said Frances.

"No, I'm not going down," she answered. "I shall have my meal with the children and with Marietje and Karel, in the nursery."

"I don't want you to have your dinner with the children," said Frances, fastening her bracelet.

"No," said Louise, gently, "but I'm having dinner with Karel and Marie in any case."

"One would think you were mad," said Frances. "Why aren't you at the dinner?"

"I arranged it with Mamma. There's a place short."

"But you're not a child!"

"Frances, what do I care about these dinners?" said Louise, with a gentle little laugh.

"If there's a place short," said Frances, working herself up about nothing, "I'll have my dinner with the children."

"Frances, please...."

"I will!"

"But, Frances, why make difficulties when there are none?" Louise replied, very gently. "Really, it has all been arranged ... with Mamma."

"I'm only a step-daughter!" cried Frances.

"You mean, a daughter-in-law!" Otto put in, with a laugh.

"A step-daughter!" Frances repeated, trembling with nervous irritation. "You're a daughter. Your place is at the dinner."

"Frances, I a.s.sure you, I'm not going in to dinner," said Louise, quietly but decidedly.

"Oh, shut up, Frances!" said Otto.

But Frances wanted to get angry, about nothing, merely for the sake of working herself up. She scolded the baboe, pushed the children out of her way, broke a fan:

"There, I've smashed the rotten thing!"

"Is that your new fan?" asked Otto, furiously.

"Yes. R-r-rootsh!... There, it's in shreds!"

He flew into a rage:

"You needn't think I'll ever give you anything again!... You're not worth it!"

"That's right, then you can give everything to your sister: you're fonder of Louise as it is ... you're in love with Louise. R-r-rootsh!... R-r-rootsh!"

And she sent the fan flying across the room, in pieces.

"Eh, njonja!" [9] said the baboe in mild astonishment.

"You're a regular nonna, [10] that's what you are!" said Otto, flushing angrily.

But his wife laughed. The broken fan had relieved her, made her feel livelier:

"Give me that other fan, baboe."

She was ready. She looked at her face in the gla.s.s, added a touch of powder and smiled. She thought that she looked nice, though she was a little pale and thin. Suddenly, she sat down, straight up in a chair:

"I feel so faint!" she murmured.

Louise went to her:

"What's the matter, Frances?"

"I feel so faint!" she said, almost inaudibly.

She was as white as a sheet.

"Give me some eau-de-Cologne...."

"What's the matter with you now?" cried Otto, in despair.

"Baboe," said Louise, "get some vinegar; mevrouw's fainting."

"No," moaned Frances, "vinegar ... stains ... one's ... things.... Mind ... my ... dress. Eau ... de ... Cologne."

Louise dabbed her forehead.

"Don't ruffle my hair!" screamed Frances.

"Oh dear, oh dear!" she moaned, the next second.