Part 28 (1/2)

”Oh!” she cried, extending her hand. ”Mother, this is the young gentleman we saw that time--the little boy who was so sick. And how are you now? You look pale.”

”Take a seat, little boy,” said the mother. ”Yes, you do look pale. Worms, of course.”

”No, no, mother. The child has had nervous fever.”

”All right--fever, then; but it could be from worms. Give him a cup, Femke. It won't hurt you to drink coffee; but if it were worms----”

Mrs. Claus's worms were more in Walter's way than the stockings.

”Where does your mother have her was.h.i.+ng done?” she asked. ”Not that I want to pump you--not at all. But if she isn't satisfied with her wash-woman--it sometimes happens, you understand. Everybody must look out for himself; and I just thought I'd mention it. Whenever there are any ink-spots Femke takes them out with oxalic acid; and it never makes any holes--yes, it did happen once, and we had to pay for a pair of cuffs. You can ask Femke.”

The fact was, he wanted to ask Femke something else; and she knew it. The story of Aztalpa had left its marks on her mind. But she was hampered very much like Walter was at home. She couldn't say, ”Mother, speak a bit more Peruvian!” So she simply asked what the roll was that he had in his hand.

Walter was confused, but he managed to stammer that it was a present for her. Femke said she would always take good care of the picture.

”Yes,” said the mother, ”and you must iron out those creases. We iron, too, little boy, and we deliver the clothes ready to put on. n.o.body can complain. You can tell your mother. And your collar--it isn't ironed nicely--and such bluing! Ask Femke. Femke, isn't the blue in stripes?”

His collar not ironed nicely? and blued in stripes? And the infallible Pietro had laundered it! Even here, were there differences in method and conception? And in this respect, too, was the Pieterse tradition not the only one that brought happiness?

Femke was on nettles. She studied Ophelia, wondering who she was, and tried to turn the conversation. At last something occurred to her. It was necessary for her to run some errand or other, and ”the young gentleman” could ”accompany” her a part of the way.

”As far as I'm concerned,” said the mother.

The young couple retired, taking one of those ways which in the neighborhood of Amsterdam are simply called ”the ways.” That is all they are. Whoever walks there for pleasure must take a good stock of impressions with him, in order to escape tedium.

But Walter and Femke were not lacking in this respect. Walter had so much to tell Femke that he could scarcely hope to get through; and she, too, had thought of him more than she was willing to admit, and more than he had any idea of. She began by saying that she hadn't told her mother of her unfriendly reception by Walter's mother and sisters, because she didn't want her mother----

”Oh, Femke--and you thought I would come?”

”Yes.” said Femke, hesitating, but still with a readiness that delighted Walter. ”Yes, of course I expected to see you again. And I had a ma.s.s said for your recovery.”

”Really?” said Walter, who hardly knew what it meant. ”You did that for me?”

”Yes, and I prayed, too. I should have been sad if you had died. For I believe you are a good boy.”

”I ought to have come sooner; and I wanted to, but--Femke, I was afraid.”

He related to her how he had been near her on Sunday. The girl attributed his timidity to his diffidence toward her mother.

”My mother is a good woman. She wouldn't hurt anybody, but--you understand. She doesn't mix with people much. I understand the world better, because, you see, I was a nurse for three weeks. I was only subst.i.tuting; I was too young to be a real nurse. It was at a relation's of ours, where the girl was sick. You know we really come of a good family. But that makes no difference. Tell me, are you well and strong again?”

Walter told her now all about his sickness, and soon he came involuntarily to the thing that gave him most trouble, his defective knowledge.

”All the children know French; but at our school it isn't taught. It's impossible to be a great man without knowing French.”

Walter had difficulty in explaining to her that he meant something other than the possession of three houses, though that might not be bad.

”I should like--you understand? I should like--yes--I should like--how shall I explain?”

The sovereignty of Africa was on the end of his tongue; but he didn't have the courage to put his dreams into words.