"

Little Sietske unable to control herself any longer had to laugh
outright. Her laughter threatened to become contagious. William was
busier than usual with his nose; Hermann had come to life and was
eyeing Walter slyly.

"Order!" thundered the doctor, giving the table a rap with a ruler
that made the globe tremble. Walter was frightened. "Order! This is
a nice caper during study-hours."

The clock began to strike. Sietske seemed to be counting, for at
every stroke she raised a finger.

"I am going to----"

"Five!" she cried. "All my fingers--just look, five! Five o'clock,
papa--Tyrant! Hurrah, hurrah!"

Both boys joined in the uproar. It was a quodlibet from "Gaudeamus
igitur," "Vive la joie," and "God save the king." Forward, all! Vive
la vacance! A bas les tyrans! Revenge! * * * *

The children were determined to have their well earned romp; and they
had it. Walter rubbed his eyes, and would not believe his ears. It
was beyond his comprehension. * * * *

"That will do now," said the doctor. "Come, mamma is waiting
dinner--and you, too, my boy!"

William took Sietske on his back and Hermann mounted the father. Thus
they descended the stairs, Walter bringing up the rear. Lady Macbeth
had disappeared, being now crumpled up in Walter's breast-pocket.

Walter was nonplussed. Was this the same man who used the gold
pen?--whose coachman wore the furs?

How was it possible? Was it a dream, that he and all the family had
looked on this man and simply been overcome by his dignity?

He couldn't understand it.

Again the atmosphere of the dining-room was quite different from that
of the schoolroom, either before or directly after five.

"Present the young gentleman to your mamma," said the doctor, turning
to William.

"May I do it?" asked Sietske.

Doctor Holsma nodded, and the little girl took Walter by the hand and
conducted him to a lady who sat at the head of the table preparing
the salad.

"Mamma, this is a young gentleman--oh, I must know your name. What
is your name?"

"Walter Pieterse."

"This is Mr. Walter Pieterse, who has come to thank papa, because
he--he was sick; and he--the young gentleman is going to stay for
dinner, papa?"--the doctor nodded again--"and he's going to stay for
dinner, mamma."

"With mamma's consent," said the father.

"Yes, with mamma's consent."

Mevrouw Holsma spoke to Walter kindly and offered him a chair. It
was necessary, too.

Everything seemed so princel